Stalking Jack: The Hunt Begins... (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  “I can understand your wish to move, but perhaps you might think on this again, in a month or two, when your mind has calmed,” said Madeline.

  “Are you still determined to look for the Ripper, even now?” said Helen.

  “More than ever, it has become an obsession with me now. I certainly can do no worse than Scotland Yard. With all their tools and manpower, they have yet to find out anything substantial about the perpetrator.”

  “Patrick Rooney, the barkeep at the Ten Bells, has told me of a young woman named Annie Chapman. She has been with the mysterious royal who frequents Whitechapel. He said he would tell her I am looking to speak with her. I offered payment of a night’s lodging so it would be worth her while. At least for an evening, she will not have to seek out a customer. I am planning to return there before returning to the George.”

  “Have you been out on the streets alone?”

  “Yes; but I promise you I have been careful, and I know my way around now. I keep a knife, a pistol, and money in my boot. If someone stole my satchel, it would be not worth much, just my journals and some handkerchiefs.”

  “You will not go alone, Madeline. I will go with you,” said Helen.

  “And I, also,” said Anna.

  “No, Anna, you are much too weak. You look a fright. It is good that you want to come, but you must get better for both our sakes,” said Helen.

  “All right, go if you must, but please be careful,” said Anna.

  Helen held onto her arm; she walked with slow, methodical steps as if she had to think how to walk again. Her eyes were distant, and she spoke little.

  They reached the Ten Bells, and Patrick waved over to her to come to the end of the bar.

  “I saw her, Mrs. Donovan, and she threw her hands up in delight when I told her of your offer of the six-pence. She said she’d meet you anywhere. She was going to the market area if you wanted to look for her, or you could wait here. She said she would be back here in a while. You’ll know her if you see her; she wears a lavender, plumed hat, and almost always has a bright blue scarf around her neck.”

  “Patrick, you have once again come to be a friend. I hope I can call you that.”

  “Yes, you don’t meet many people in this place you’d like to know, but you’re one, Miss. I’m happy to do it for you.”

  “We’ll go to the market, but if we should miss her, please ask her to wait as we will return directly if we do not find her.”

  They both had agreed it was better to walk about than to sit in the Ten Bells. Even though Patrick was there, some of the men present could be persistent in their attempts to seek her favors.

  Rocks was busy cutting things. Every time Madeline had seen her, there were blood spatters about her person.

  “Miss Roxanne, good afternoon.”

  “I guess you found your Polly,” she said with a twisted mouth.

  “It is a shock. We had hoped to see a different end. We are now trying to find Annie Chapman. She may have information for us.”

  “I’m not sure I knows her.”

  “We were told she frequently wears a bright colored purple plumed hat.”

  “Her? I’ve seen her. She was walking up and down here a little while ago. Maybe she’ll get hers too, be just one less of the wicked lot.”

  “You can’t mean that. What a terrible thing to say!” exclaimed Madeline, looking at Rocks and shaking her head.

  Helen covered her mouth, and Madeline suspected she was either going to scream or say something very unkind to her.

  “Maybe…maybe not—I might have offended you, but these women offend us all,” Rocks continued.

  “Please…this is the victim’s aunt.”

  She turned to her and with no change of expression said, “It’s a shame.”

  She took Helen’s hand and walked outside. She looked back to see Rocks, as she brushed aside a hair from her eye, and with that gesture caused several drops of blood to roll down her cheek. She thought this is what these streets do to people. Roxanne was cold to the bone, and she didn’t want to be near her.

  They walked in a back and forth pattern for the next fifteen or so minutes, each looking in every direction for the plumed hat, but it did not appear.

  “Do you wish to return with me to Ten Bells?” asked Madeline.

  “No, I have heard enough today. I won’t repeat it to Anna. If it were not for that powder that kept me somewhat calm, I think I would have slapped her.”

  “I know, I know, it was too cruel. I wish you had not heard that. I’m sorry that you came along; I should have gone myself.”

  “I thought I was stronger, but I am not. I don’t believe I will accompany you in the near future. I hope you will forgive me for that.”

  “Don’t even think of it. It is me who should ask for forgiveness. Hugh or Jonathan will assist me. Let’s get you home and have a good hot cup of tea.”

  She stayed a little while longer but wanted to see if she could meet with Annie. She didn’t tell them she was returning to the Ten Bells and took the carriage away from their home, so it would appear as if she were leaving the area. She then asked the driver to wait and for additional monies, he said he would, but he was not inclined to wait too long because he was wary of the proclivity of thieves who sat in wait for their next target. She assured him that she would not be long.

  She was beginning to feel less light headed, and her surge of comfort was now drifting away from her. She knew she needed another draft of powder to continue. In the cloistered carriage, she could take some powder without prying eyes knowing that she too had now become one of the hundreds in this area who were partaking of drugs illegally.

  She returned to the Ten Bells looking for the elusive plumed hat. She hoped she might see it bobbing up and down in the crowd. She sat again near Patrick Rooney.

  “You did not see her?” asked Patrick.

  “No, we left rather quickly after we spoke with Miss Roxanne, one of the meat carvers there, she said some cruel things.”

  “I know her, everyone knows her. She’s a bitter woman that will take those feelings with her to her grave. Her husband’s run off now, some three years, and she doesn’t show any signs of forgetting about it and moving on.”

  “When I speak to people and overhear them talking, so many have lost their compassion. They are struggling to survive every day, I understand that, but still there is such a coldness that resides in their souls. It’s almost as if because she was a woman of the streets, she somehow deserved it or that it was her own fault somehow."

  “You have just come here, and I can see how you would judge them harshly, but Mum, you can’t know what life is like here. It is a death sentence to live here. People don’t have that feeling of watching out or caring about the other fellow; they’re too busy trying not to drown. It is unfortunate, but this is the devil’s den.”

  “I can see that, but it doesn’t seem to lessen the pain over the reaction we are receiving to Polly’s death.”

  Patrick touched her on the hand, “Mum, it’s Annie. She’s in the corner. I will wave her over.”

  “Thank you, Patrick.”

  “Miss, is you the one who’s going to pay me for just talking?” said the lady with the plumed hat.

  “Yes, I’m Mrs. Donovan. Are you Anne Chapman?”

  “I is, Miss. My friend told me you want to talk about Mr. Williams?”

  “Is he the gentleman who frequents Whitechapel in the royal carriage?”

  “He is, Miss. Why do you want to talk about him?”

  “Annie, I hope you will allow me to call you that. I was a friend to Polly Nichols family, and we are trying to find clues to her murder and to look for possible leads to the Ripper.”

  “You thinks he might be him? Good lord!”

  “I don’t know Annie, but there is no progress yet in the apprehension of Jack, it can’t hurt to try and find answers on our own. I’ve heard he has a mean streak. Is that something you feel comfortable talking about?�
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  “He does, Miss. He took the lash to me.”

  Without a thought, she opened her dress in front and showed her marks on her chest.

  “Annie, that is awful.”

  She refrained from judgment and the question that was on her mind as to why she would endure it.

  “I ain’t as pretty as most of the ladies down here. I has to take all kinds of men. I ain’t proud of it, but it’s the life down here. He’s a strange one. When he’s done, he pays me extra and pats me on the hand. There’s a look in his eyes that frightens me when he’s about it, but when he’s done whipping me, he settles down again.”

  “Does anyone else go with him that you know?”

  “Not that I know of, but he talks about wishing he could get a room full of us and whip us all to pay for our sins. Seems to me he’s the sinner, but I ain’t one to know ‘bout things like that.”

  “Do you know if he is one of the royals?”

  “I don’t think so. He has a black bag I seen, and I think the coachman called him doctor.”

  “Does he give you a name to call him?”

  “He just says to call him Sir.”

  “May I ask how often you see him?”

  “I never knows for sure, but he comes round two or three times a week sometimes, then I don’t see him for two or three weeks. I never know.”

  “Here is your money, Annie. Tonight you can sleep in peace without seeing anyone. If you can try to get more information about him, I will pay for it.”

  “Thank you, Miss. I like being a detective. I’ll try, and I’ll let Patrick know if I’ve found out anything.”

  “Miss, you don’t happen to have any good white stuff on you? I could sure use that.”

  “I don’t Annie, but where do you usually get it?”

  “You ain’t really a copper is ya? Why is you asking me that?”

  “No, I’m not Annie, but I may like to purchase some for my friends who lost their Polly. They might need it. They are old, and I don’t think anyone would mind.”

  Madeline knew this to be a lie and for a moment, she felt a twinge of conscience, then thought that she had to function, and she could do so more effectively with a little help. Who was she harming, she thought, no one. She was strong enough to know when to stop.

  “I’ll take you to ‘em if you might consider me.”

  “I will Annie. I will give you enough money to make a purchase for me and you.”

  “You’re a good one, Miss. I thank ya’, and I promise to find out about Sir.”

  “Follow me down this alleyway, Bobby stays in the back here most of the day, ain’t no one bothers him. The coppers looks the other way unless someone’s getting punched or robbed.”

  Within ten minutes, they had the substance. Every vice imaginable can be easily maintained to one’s satisfaction on the streets of Whitechapel.

  “Here you go, Miss and thank you for helping me. I will sleep today. As long as you don’t mind paying me, Miss, I’ll be trying to find out lots of things for you.”

  “Annie, you can be my ears and eyes after dark, but be careful. Tell me about anything suspicious that you might see or hear that you think might be related to the Ripper.”

  “I will, Miss. I thought the Yard might come looking for me about Sir, but here it’s you instead. I’ll leave word with Patrick for ya’.”

  “Be careful, Annie and try to go out in pairs.”

  “The Ripper likes the pretty girls; he ain’t going to be bothering me, Miss.”

  “All right, Annie. I will speak to Patrick every two days or so. That might give you enough time to find something out.”

  “I agree, that sounds all right.”

  She put her hand inside her satchel while she was riding in the carriage on the return trip. She touched it like a fragile orchid and felt a sense of calm come over knowing the opiate was there. She told herself she didn’t have to have it, but that it would help make her life easier. She justified it by thinking that she could not endure what had happened to Polly. She felt consumed with guilt, and felt that somehow she had given the aunts hope; hope that only turned into debilitating misery.

  Arriving at the George, she saw her friend, “Clinton…dear Clinton, could you please send supper to my room? I have things to sort out and will be staying in this evening. If there are any messages, dear, could you please send those along also?” she said as she touched her hand to his face.

  Clinton smiled but had an odd look on his face. She wondered why and then thought perhaps it was because of her less than formal speech. What is it after all about these Brits, she thought, they are so damn formal.

  When she reached her room, she lay down on the bed, and she felt the room swirling. After Clinton had brought her hot tea and lunch, she felt much better and then began to think about how she had acted with Clinton. So there were effects she did not count on from taking the drug. She would have never said those inappropriate comments. She was embarrassed that she had acted with such affection toward Clinton. She would return to just partaking of her absinthe and refrain from taking the powder.

  She had slept most of the afternoon away and lay in her hot bath thinking of how to proceed. She was receiving some useful information and had suspects, but did not know how to find evidence that might link someone directly to the murders.

  She looked at her picture of her family and began, “Russell, what do you think? You always had strong opinions about everything, and now you have failed to help me? Why aren’t you here? The children are too young, bless them, to offer me any direction, but I am depending on you.”

  She thought she heard him clear as a bell, and could almost see him moving in the room.

  “You know what you have to do; it’s in your mystery novel. You must use your cunning. You were never one to shy away from an adverse situation,” said Russell’s spirit.

  “You have come. I knew you would not let me down. So you understand what is happening? Do not scold me for being involved.”

  “Not at all—I know you need to do this, to push yourself to an edge. You want to feel again. If I had lost you and the boys, I would need to do the same thing. I can tell you are far stronger than I would be.”

  “Are they all right?”

  “You know they are. I have taken great care with them to ensure they spend time with their grandmother. She looks after them like you would. She tells them all about you.”

  “That is well. Do you think I should join you? Some days I feel it would be so easy.”

  “No, remember your endeavor—that is why you called for me. Now how can you actually find out anything unless you are on the streets?”

  “I have been on the streets…I have found out some information, but nothing worthwhile.”

  “You have not been on the streets—you have been a spectator. You must be a participant.”

  “What are you saying? Come closer.”

  “This is as close as I can come. You need to be just like the other women.”

  “What are you saying? You think I should prostitute myself?”

  “No, my dear, not exactly—just like Mr. Holmes, you will disguise yourself as the thing The Ripper wants most. It will be dangerous, but I think you can do it. Now that we are beyond you, you need something to challenge your heart to beat, to stay alive.”

  “But what if it is my death?”

  “Then you will be with us, but it will be a worthy death, not a wilting away death.”

  “There is something in that. I think I could do it. The doctor has given me medicine to calm my nerves.”

  “It is not medicine, Madeline. It is opium. It will give you both great pain and pleasure, but I will not say too much for now because the opium has brought you to me.”

  “It is not opium; it is medicine―believe me.”

  “Then what is it that Annie helped you to acquire?”

  “Oh…that’s different, but I will only do it this one time.”

  “We shall see,
but I am happy that it has brought you some peace. I would take it in your place. I do not fault you for it. I just hope you have the will to resist its power over you.”

  “My children, will you bring them to me.”

  “They are sleeping and well—perhaps next time. They have grown and speak of you often. They love you very much. They…”

  There was a knock at the door, and Russell faded away. She walked slowly to the door, her footing betraying her and her head felt it was on fire. There was a note slipped beneath, and when she went to retrieve it, she fell upon the floor. She would read it later, for now, she would return to her bed to think on what has just transpired and her conversation with Russell.

  She awoke late in the evening feeling refreshed and once more clear headed, although she had a slight tingling in one of her little fingers. She thought it must be the stress.

  It had been an amazing day. She was coming to grips with her conversation with Russell. She wondered if she had seen him in her dreams or did she somehow conjure up his image with her imagination. Life had become completely unpredictable.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Becoming Jenny

  September 3, 1888

  I ventured alone for the first time into Whitechapel. It was not as difficult as I had first imagined. I know my way around the streets, and I know a few people I think I might be able to trust such as Patrick Rooney at the Ten Bells. I have met with Annie Chapmen, who has confirmed she has been with the man from the royal coach. He may be employed by the royal family and not actually a member of the Royals, according to Annie.

  I am feeling more confident, with only some minor spells. I have been mulling over the idea of disguising myself as a lady of the evening (prostitute) and seeing if I may be able to attract Jack. If I should do such a thing, I will not venture out of sight of anyone and stay within earshot of other people. It is a daring and perhaps foolish thing, but as someone told me, it is what Sherlock Holmes would have done. I think I will call myself, Jenny.

  It is a serious business, this ruining of the human being in Whitechapel. It seems to be the work of Whitechapel to destroy all who dare walk its streets. If I should be one of Whitechapel’s victims, it will be in the attempt to do something honorable with my life.