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

  I hope Mr. Franks will continue to befriend us.

  “Good-night, my dears, I would give my soul away, if I could hold you in my arms one more time.”

  On the morning of the 15th, she began to take stock of her belongings, sorting and beginning the task of packing her suitcase. There would be only one more day before they arrived in London. Her purpose, in just a few short days of this journey, had gone from escape to a mission. They had sailed on the 10th of August and today, just five days later, her world had changed dramatically. She had abandoned any feeling of safety or security, for her, there would never be that comfort again. Now there was a reckless, fearless person that had taken her place for she no longer feared death but welcomed it because that would mean she could rejoin her family. She thought about what could she do while she still lived that would give her life meaning, and now with the menacing Ripper terrorizing London and the niece of Anna and Helen, who might be in peril, she felt she had a road forward. She would go into Whitechapel, find Mary Ann and bring her safely home to her family.

  On deck, she saw the familiar face of Phillip. It was early, and no one she knew was about, so she took her place in her favorite deck chair and watched the sea rise and fall. The occasional school of dolphins would appear, and she never stopped enjoying the site of them.

  “Mrs. Donovan, your drinks, and cake. I saw you coming towards your chair and took the liberty to bring your usual morning fare.”

  “Thank you, Phillip, for everything. I will miss you, and I hope you will be on my return voyage. I felt comforted by your considerations, and I often thought how my husband, Russell, would have been pleased to have you be so kind to me.”

  “If I may ask, Mum, how are you doing? Does anyone, but me, know about what happened?”

  “No, Phillip, only you. I am not so brave to openly discuss that matter. You have kept my confidence, and that is a good thing. Maybe someday I will be able to speak about what my heart thinks of. All through the trip when I heard children’s laughter, I saw my Will and Nate chasing each other and rolling with laughter. The desire to just fade away in grief has been overwhelming, but you have helped me.”

  Phillip pressed a piece of paper into her hand and said, “We will not put out to sea again for at least ten days, if you need anything―anything at all―please contact me. I have written my address here. I live with my cousin, Hugh; he is almost thirty and as grounded as they come, Mum. After I am gone, please contact him if you need a friend in the city. I have telegraphed him about you, and he said he would be at your service. He is a solicitor with some influence in the area and certainly can help you find housing if you are in the need of it.”

  “I’ll be staying at the Hotel George for now, but if I am to extend my stay here, I will need some assistance in finding adequate housing. Either way, I am inclined to think I may contact your cousin after all.”

  “Good. I will leave you now to your leisure, and I will see you again for the luncheon hour.”

  On the first evening of the voyage, Madeline had sat late into the evening, alone, writing in her journal, perplexed about how difficult her life had recently been. When he came off duty, Phillip had seen her physically shaken and sat with her. His unexpected warmth and kindness led her to weep, and she told him of the circumstances that had led her to take this trip. He had promised her he would not reveal any of their conversation, and he had been good to his word. This trip was necessary for her; it had forced her to interact with the world again.

  August 16, 1888

  Today is the last day of our journey. We will be at London’s front door in the morning. I remember speaking with Russell about coming here one day. We had thought when the children were a little older; perhaps we would take a year to travel. He was doing so well at the bank, and father had offered to help finance the trip. How simple and wonderful life once was.

  Russell, at night, sometimes I can feel you calling my name and wake to calm the children’s crying, and when I realize you are gone, my only solace is a treasured silver flask that holds precious drops of bourbon. I know you wouldn’t approve of that either, but somehow I believe you would forgive me nonetheless. Besides, I only partake of enough that could fairly intoxicate a bird. How I would have enjoyed discussing this Jack the Ripper with you. You would not approve of me going into Whitechapel, but I am going to do some good while I am left alone in this world.

  She stopped writing when another steward came by and requested another glass of absinthe.

  Everyone is rushing to their destination, happy families playing together, none of them realizing that they have already arrived at it. This now, this moment they have, wherever they are going is secondary to their being with each other today. How I envy them!

  I feel fortunate to have met the ladies of Mumford Street; I will endeavor to be their ally.

  The morning sun was rising, directly pointing at her so that she had to shade her eyes with her hand. She wondered if the boys were dancing in the clouds, and instinctively raised her hands to wave at the sky. Someday, she thought, I will be with you again.

  “Mrs. Donovan, how are you this morning?” said Jonathan.

  “Well, sir, well.”

  “We must all dine together and this time in the Grand Saloon. You must let me have the company of you and the fine ladies. I will miss our conversations about Mr. Holmes and even though an unusual conversation, the Ripper has put our mettle to the test. Do you have any opinions about him?”

  “I suppose we should start with that. The perpetrator must be male. We must assume he is mad; I cannot imagine that just evil would waste its time with such a slaughter. Evil usually has a purpose with an end in monetary or power gain they achieve in the fulfilling of the crime. There is no purpose to these crimes, but malicious murder, murder for the sake of cruelty; at least those are my thoughts.”

  “Do you agree with the theory that it must be a doctor or a butcher?”

  “I don’t think it can be that limited. The cooks in any house in London would have the knowledge of cutting up a carcass and would be able to have the skill to do such damage.”

  “Well, then, we would have a masterful amount of suspects. I am anxious to learn more truths and less fiction. I hope that will be the case when I start my investigation.”

  The ladies began to file onto the deck, taking the chairs and forming them into a circle.

  “Good morning ladies,” Madeline called out. “May we join you?”

  “Please do, a lovely morning to start our last day, don’t you think?” asked Anna.

  Madeline and Mr. Franks gathered their refreshments and paperwork and made their way over to their friends.

  “My dear friends—Mr. Franks has kindly extended an invitation to us to join him for dinner in the Grand Ballroom this evening. Would that be agreeable to you?” said Madeline.

  “What a lovely man you are, Mr. Franks, but I am not certain we should go, as we have planned to pack up our belongings this evening and get ourselves put together properly for our arrival,” said Helen.

  “Ladies, I may not get the chance again to see all of you. You must come.”

  “That will not be the case, Mr. Franks, as you must come and dine with us at Mumford Street. Felicia, Sophie, and Grace live just a five-minute walk from us, and we can all have supper and a visit together once again. We will insist, I’m afraid,” Helen continued with a smile.

  “You cannot disappoint us, Mr. Franks, and may we call you Jonathan. I feel you are a friend,” said Grace, who spoke little when Mr. Franks was present. She was particularly shy around men.

  “At last, I did not feel it my place to ask, but may we all do that. Ladies, may I call you by your first names?”

  Madeline was the only one who hesitated, but then realized how foolish she was, after all, what is the harm in it, she thought and agreed also.

  “Will we finish our novel today? You both have the copies of the book, and we shall be at a great loss if we do not kn
ow how the book ends,” said Sophie.

  After an hour or so of reading, both Anna and Helen were tapping their foreheads with their white handkerchiefs, leaning in with anticipation and anxiety. When they finished, there were sighs and many “OH’s”.

  “Madeline, I don’t know much about the Mormon’s. Can all they say about them be true? That’s in your backyard, Salt Lake City. The Latter Day Saints—are they notorious in America?” said Sophie.

  “It is in America, but I’m afraid Utah is thousands of miles away from where I reside in Chicago, and I have never been there. There are Mormon’s that live about us. They bring brochures to our doors describing their religion, and sometimes they stop to talk to us. They are very consistent with their solicitation in trying to convert someone to their religion. I have never heard it said, that I can recall, however, that they in some way present a threat to anyone. It is a curious plot indeed.”

  “What about who the murderer turned out to be? Did anyone guess?” asked Jonathan.

  There seemed to be a consensus that everyone had discerned who it was, but Madeline doubted that. She had only come to her conclusion in the last few pages of the book and deemed it lucky that she was right. The plot was complicated and unpredictable, but the ladies, bless them, would never have admitted that amongst each other. Jonathan was quite boastful of saying he knew who did it early into the novel. Of that, she definitely was skeptical, but perhaps he had also an analytical mind, after all, she did not know him that well.

  “If this, what is his name again, Boyle, ever writes another novel, we must be sure to do another reading together,” said Anna.

  “It’s Doyle, but I agree. I do hope he writes another mystery, but now we have our own. We need to find your niece, Mary Ann. As soon as I settle in, I will be in to see you,” said Madeline.

  “We will meet tonight then at the Grand Saloon before we take our leave of each other,” said Anna.

  “Thank you, Jonathan, for providing this night for us. I look forward to it and also am saddened to think we will not be able to share our conversations,” said Madeline.

  “I too, will miss it and hope for our continued friendship.”

  As she dressed for dinner, for the first time, she wished she had brought something other than all black dresses. She would never stop mourning, at least, that’s how she felt today, but she was young, and the drabness of her pale white face against the deep black was disconcerting. She had brought along her grandmother’s white lace shawl, the stitching so delicate and beautiful, she liked to run her fingers across it, and draped it around her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she was satisfied that it brightened her appearance.

  The orchestra was playing in the Grand Saloon; with the room decorations festive, as it was the last dinner that would be served to the travelers before they arrived at their destination.

  “A toast, to the loveliest ladies in all of London,” said Jonathan.

  Grace blushed, Helen pushed her shoulders back, and Anna and the others smiled broadly, appreciating his flattery.

  “It has been a while since I have been called lovely, Jonathan, and it is good to hear, no matter how untrue the statement. Any further developments regarding The Ripper?” said Anna.

  “Now they are saying, perhaps it was a policeman or other figure of authority that approached the women, and that is why they did not scream. But it seems a simpler explanation might be if the ladies were inebriated or had partaken of a drug, their mental capacity made it easy to overtake them. He attacked in the darkest part of the night when there is almost no activity in the streets, and it allowed him a sort of cover.”

  “It makes me shudder to think such a person exists and can hide among us and then become this sadist monster in the evening. It is frightening to think we may have spoken to him in the market,” said Helen.

  “Perhaps they have caught him, and we have not heard the news. We are two or three days behind in hearing the latest report,” said Madeline.

  “That would indeed put my mind at rest. As it is, instead of yearning for our home again, I find myself reluctant to go back into my neighborhood. It is a foolish old woman’s fears, but I don’t seem to be able to stop dreading it,” said Sophie.

  “I am skilled with a revolver, and I mean to take it out of its cob webbed storage and have it at my disposal,” said Helen.

  “If I am able, I will stop in to check on you. I don’t know what my schedule will be, but as I am certain to be in the area of your home, I will try to find the time to call on you. It would be a good thing to reassure you that you have nothing to fear, but I don’t think that is the case. I don’t think any woman will be completely safe while he roams the streets, even though it seems he targets ladies of the evening, it may just be, that for now, he has found them the most convenient to attack,” said Jonathan.

  “I propose a toast also. “May only good things light upon our doorstep, lady luck be our constant companion and may God bless you all,” said Madeline.

  When she returned to her cabin and the picture that anchored her to life, she no longer felt sad because of their parting because she knew she would continue to be in contact with all of her new acquaintances, of course, with the exception of her dear boy, Phillip. But she would do her best to send him letters occasionally of the news from London.

  “Good-night, my darlings. Tomorrow we will be in London.”

  Chapter Three

  Whitechapel

  August 17, 1888

  The SS City of New York is awake and in such a mood as if it was New Year’s Eve. The excitement over our pending arrival can be heard and seen everywhere. I can just see the sun, its’ head just peeking above the water, but even at the early hour, the sound of creaking cabin doors opening and closing and footsteps can be heard in quantity. I am anxious to be on land again; it has been an effort not to give into sea sickness and headaches. My sweet, green fairy has been a saving grace to me these days and helped me over the sloshing of the sea.

  She hurried to get ready, worried that she might miss seeing her new friends and also to say her goodbyes to Phillip, Mr. Bonneville and the other wait staff who had treated her with such kindness.

  She carefully wrapped her picture of her family, in her best lace handkerchief, and placed it in the satchel she carried. Looking around her tiny cabin before she left it for the last time, a tear ran down her face. She was grateful for the time she had spent in it, for it had proved to be more friend to her than she had imagined.

  Rushing past her were throngs of purposeful feet seeking their destination; attempting to exit the lovely ship. She watched for her new found friends but did not see them. Phillip scurried past once reminding her, “Don’t forget, I’ll be here for ten days. Don’t lose my address.”

  She waved as he was busy carrying luggage under his arm and trying to assist in keeping some sort of order, already hordes of people had lined up near the exit ramp. There would still be nearly two more hours till they would dock in London. She was certain she would see Jonathan and the ladies before then.

  She did not wish to sit, but walk about the grand lady, examining every detail that she might have missed, locking it into her memory. What an honor it had been to have been the first to walk on her decks, her newness almost feeling sacrilege to light upon her. Whenever she heard the laughter or cries of small children, she would brace herself against the rail, holding on for dear life. She still could not escape the cold chill that came over her when this happened. Children’s voices, when laughing, all sounded almost imperceptibly alike, it could have been Will or Nate. It could have been, but it wasn’t. Would she ever be able to get beyond her grief?

  She thought again of Anna and Helen’s niece. She could not save her children and her husband, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try to save Mary Ann. That sense of freedom from self-desire possessed her again; she had nothing left to lose. She was determined to do this. She would go down to Whitechapel, and find Mary Ann if she had to s
leep in the alley ways until she found her.

  She had never quite realized how sardine packed the ship was. With the passengers all having their separate quarters and parts of the ship, it did not seem to be crowded at all. But now as they converged onto the main deck, it appeared as if there were anthills of people. She began to wonder if she would be able to find her friends among the hundreds of people milling about.

  When she finally saw Anna, she was already exiting from the ship, Madeline called out to them, “Anna, Helen, I will be round to see you soon, very soon. As soon as I settle in, I will find my way to your home. Stay well.”

  A man touched her on the arm, and she turned to see Jonathan.

  “How disappointing to not have seen them,” said Madeline.

  “It is. I had hoped to see them, also. I searched for all of you, but the ship has turned into a cattle run. It feels more like a stampede than an exit. My editor has telegraphed me that he expects some type of story by the end of the day. He wants me to get something in writing. So it begins—we all will go our separate ways. I hope you enjoy your stay at the Hotel George. I have heard it is a fine place,” said Jonathan.

  “Thank you and I as well hope to begin my work in trying to find Miss Mary Ann.”

  “Please be careful, Madeline. I am sure that I will worry for your safety. I don’t believe that you are prepared for the type of lifestyle that exists in Whitechapel.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I am young and healthy and do not have the terrors of when I was a girl. I am a woman now, and fully able to care for myself and hopefully can assist in caring for others. But I do agree that men can move more freely and with greater safety than us, so if I may have your company sometimes when I venture into the area, I will be most grateful.”

  “I will say farewell and not good-bye for I hope to see you soon.”