Stalking Jack: The Hunt Begins... (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 1) Page 6

  “That is an unexpected request. I don’t even like to go there myself. I tell my chums I’m not interested if they venture there, but I won’t disappoint you. Hugh should be returning within the hour; I will also enlist his help. I am not sure what he will think of it, but I will ask. I am just a young male, Mrs. Donovan, not much of a figure to scare the likes of someone like that or any other mugger.”

  “There is safety also in the numbers we will go in. There will be at least four of us. I think most predators prefer their victims to be influenced by some intoxication and look for them to be alone.”

  “If I may have the address then, I will be on your doorstep promptly at eleven tonight.”

  “Fine, fine—it is a great relief to have your company, for I think I would have attempted it even without your help.”

  “Oh, no, Mum, don’t ever do a thing like that. I know, Hugh, he’s pragmatic and sober. He would never leave a lady without aid in a situation like this. Please assure me you will ask his help.”

  “If he is as personable as you say, Phillip, and if he is anything like you, I should do so without hesitation. Thank you, and I will see you shortly.”

  When she returned to the Hotel George, she was physically drained, but mentally she was stirred and even though she attempted a quick nap, she could not rest. Her thoughts kept swirling around Mary Ann and all the other vulnerable ladies who would find themselves each night at the mercy of this dog who was terrorizing Whitechapel and all of London.

  Chapter Four

  Into the Night

  August 18, 1888

  I have seen the squalor of Whitechapel. It is far worse than I could have imagined. The stench from gas, rotting corpses of rats and other diseased animals bites the nostrils and makes one wish to run from the area. The hopeless look on the faces of those I have seen there is distressing, and one cannot help but think about their forlorn eyes. The grieving of my fellow humans brings me even further sadness, but also a purpose that if I cannot alleviate my grief, perhaps I may still be of some use on this earth and help someone else. I still have the hope of finding Polly, only because it does appear it might be a finite search. There are only six pubs congregated together within a short distance and most of the illegal activities take place either in or around these establishments. The ladies, Phillip, and I will seek Polly out in the Ten Bells tonight around the midnight hour. We must find her.

  She stopped, and took a drink from her faithful flask of bourbon that stayed on her bedside table along with her picture. They now had become her twin dominion of sanctuary.

  “My Darlings, if you could see me, you would be shocked. Once so contented to be the magistrate of a small space and only living for my dear family, now here I am across the ocean with new friends that I am willing to sacrifice everything for. But then I am already forsaken, so it does not matter. Will you watch over me, my dears?” she said as she kissed their picture before leaving her room.

  Looking at the large ornate clock above the stairway, she noted it was time to order her carriage.

  “Clinton, would you be so kind as to order me a carriage? I will be off to Whitechapel again.”

  “Mum, you are a brave one, and you seem to take it in stride when you’ve only just arrived.”

  “Brave―no, I am not brave. Those people who live in Whitechapel and try to make some kind of a life―they are the brave ones. I am perhaps reckless, but it is for good reason. Clinton, I will leave the address that I am to be taken to, just…well…just in the event that anything untoward should happen that you may notify my father.”

  “Please, Mum, don’t even speak of it. If anyone should call for you, should I forward the information to them?”

  “I don’t believe anyone will try to contact me, but in the event one of my friends should call, yes, please give them the address.”

  “Very good, Mum, I will await your return. I am on duty until three and hope to escort you to your room upon your arrival back to the George.”

  “Thank you, Clinton that is a comfort.”

  The driver had a disapproving frown upon his face to once again be taking her to Whitechapel at such a late hour; she shivered a little as she settled in for the ride. She gathered her shawl around her for the night air was clammy with cold mist. Londoner’s gave these polluted, smog filled nights “pea-soupers”, and she thought it an appropriate name.

  Upon arriving at their home, Anna and Helen were ready and waiting for her.

  “My dear, would you like some tea before we get started?” asked Anna.

  “Perhaps an absinthe would be lovely to partake of while we wait for Phillip.”

  “I don’t know if we have anything so nice as that, but I am sure we have some bourbon. Would bourbon and tea do? We also have some blackberry wine if you would like to try some warmed. It is quite soothing; our mother would always give us a glass of it when we were not feeling well.”

  “That sounds fine. I’ve never had blackberry wine, and I’ve never had any wine warmed, but I would like to try it, thank you.”

  “We can’t thank you enough for helping us,” said Helen as she gave Madeline a quick hug.

  She had just begun sipping her wine, when Phillip arrived, accompanied by a trim, tall man, perhaps almost six foot, with a bowler hat and black pin-striped suit. His perfectly groomed dark, brown hair completed his ultra-conservative look.

  “Mrs. Donovan, Anna, Helen; this is my cousin, Hugh Scott.”

  “Mr. Scott, welcome and thank you for joining us. We are pleased that you have come to our aid,” said Anna.

  “Mum, it is my pleasure. Phillip has explained to me your plight, and how could any gentleman refuse such a request,” said Hugh.

  He turned to Madeline and slightly nodding his head said, “Madam, good evening.”

  “We are off then to the pub; I do feel secure with both of you gentlemen accompanying us,” said Madeline.

  Madeline slipped her arm into Phillip’s as they walked, and she told them of their day of sleuthing. Hugh was kind enough to escort both Anna and Helen. Now, she felt they were getting somewhere; this was the heart of it. They were in the right place and at an hour when the business of vice flourished.

  The Ten Bells looked nothing like it did in the afternoon. Almost a crushing mass of people were pushed up against the bar, with every chair and table taken and people standing in the aisles. Although there was the clink of glasses in toasting and card playing, what she noticed most were the quick slipping of coins and paper money into pockets in exchange for small packages. She assumed these were a form of illegal drug, most likely opium. It was easy to tell which woman was soliciting trade; it was harder to distinguish who wasn’t.

  They each began the task of questioning the inhabitants of the pub about Polly. Most brushed their questions aside with a gesture that said, “Mind your own business or leave me alone”. Even with the Ripper at large, the alcohol soothed everyone into a careless state.

  One lady of the evening, adorned with large, scarlet red feathers around her face and hair said she might have seen her, “It just might be her, a girl they call “Penny” not Polly. I’m not sure, but a girl that looks a little like this picture calls herself that. She usually partners up with a young girl named Sally, and they find their men about this place. She was ‘round here about an hour ago.”

  “Thank you—that is wonderful news. How are you fairing with the news of Jack?” Madeline asked the lady.

  “It’s a fright, I tell you, but I’m too old for him to bother me. He’s just one of the things that will kill you in Whitechapel, just one.”

  “Our regards, Madame,” Madeline said as they bid her good-night.

  “This is good. We may have a possible sighting. If we follow some of the ladies and see where they go for their trysts, maybe we could spot her,” said Madeline.

  “I have some hope now that maybe there is a chance we can find her,” said Helen.

  “I’ll lead the way, I know the
streets,” said Phillip.

  This time, she took Hugh’s arm and began a conversation “Are you familiar with these streets also, Mr. Scott?”

  “Please call me Hugh. Somewhat—I’ve had clients in the general vicinity and in my younger years I came to these pubs, but no longer. I admire you for what you’re doing, and I do hope the outcome will be as you desire, but I have my doubts. These are dark times in London.”

  “Yes, it is evident, even to one as me who has just arrived. I would prefer to call you Hugh, and please call me Madeline. It seems silly to stand on propriety under these circumstances,” she said with a slight smile.

  As they walked down one of the many side streets near Ten Bells, the darkness was pervasive, and she was getting a clearer picture of how Jack escaped detection. It wasn’t just dark; it was clouded with fog and pedestrians who had their long coats turned up on their face. She assumed some did so because of the cold, and others because they did not want anyone to recognize her traversing in this area. If Jack had just walked by, she would not be able to tell him from any other man. Other than height and weight, it was a sea of endless coats and turned down brims.

  They walked as a group, letting Anna and Helen lead the way, as they would be the ones to recognize their niece. The others attempted to ask questions but found the intimacy of the couples in the dark did not avail them to approach.

  In another time, in another place, she would have looked away and blushed with cherry redness, but this was different, this was not a time to pretend to be a child with no awareness of the world and how it behaved.

  They concluded, as there were few options that they would call her name into the street to see if anyone turned or responded. They didn’t yell it but just called out as a friend would do if seeking another.

  “Penny” and "Polly" were called out into the wind. After proceeding through a half dozen or so side streets, a young, blonde girl, hair falling into her eyes turned and said, “Penny…are you looking for Penny Nichols?”

  “Polly Nichols—but we have learned that she might go by the name of Penny, also,” said Madeline.

  “Have you seen our Polly?” asked Anna with excitement in her voice, rising in tone and perhaps hope.

  “She’s a funny one; she says, '“You can call me Penny Nichols, but pay me in pounds.”’ We would always laugh when she said it. I seen her go with a boy named Williams. He likes her and comes around a couple times a week. I think she went back to one of the pubs with him.”

  The hour was late, it was nearly two, and they believed they would not have any success pursuing her anymore.

  “Miss, we are her family and have important good news for her. I have written her family’s address on this paper. We would be very grateful if you were to give her this message, and there’s something in it for you. If we hear from Polly, we will give you a five-pound note as a thank you for your assistance.”

  “A five-pound note you say? Is you rich, Miss?” Her words drawn out due to her intoxication.

  “No, but it is important we find her, and it does sound as if it might be her.”

  “I can sure use the money, Miss. I wouldn’t have to work out here for many a night.”

  “I wish you well. I truly do and hope life will get easier for you.”

  As they gathered together for their return to Anna’s house, Hugh said, “Madeline, I hope I will see you again under more pleasant circumstances. Perhaps sometime we might meet for lunch.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps after we find Polly, we can discuss that again. It was an imposition to ask this of you, and Phillip, and I will not forget that.”

  When they arrived at Anna and Helen’s home, they said their goodbyes and agreed she would meet them back again at noon.

  Chapter Five

  The Ten Bells

  She was exhausted when she returned to the Hotel George and allowed herself the luxury of soaking in a hot bath to obtain some physical relief. She wondered how life could be so despicable, in such an age of electricity, with all the other modern inventions that were marvels of the abilities of mankind. The good things of life seemed to have passed over Whitechapel, like an ugly stepchild. Her father would be appalled at such a site, and he would not be at peace until she returned home if he knew. They had found out more information than she thought possible in the chaos that was Whitechapel. Tomorrow she would begin again.

  August 19, 1888

  It is another dreary London morning, the fog reaches to every nook and alley, covering it with an eerie, almost hallucinogen effect. Sometimes you cannot distinguish the movements of men from women, and children distinguished only by their small size. It is a perfect setting for murder and a perfect place to be invisible.

  I am hopeful now of finding Polly and grateful for Phillip and Hugh’s kindness to come along with us to the place of great unhappiness. Hugh is handsome and genteel, not rough and gregarious like Jonathan, but even though they are so different, I have favorable opinions of them both.

  Jack, I will find you. I am not afraid of you.

  She was more determined than ever to see that Polly was safe, especially after seeing the conditions people were forced to live in. With all they had to endure, now they also had this deviant preying on them. It is too cruel. She thought, I must spare someone this tragic death, even if it is only one person, I will believe I accomplished something of merit.

  She had slept until nearly ten, feeling sluggish from her late arrival back to her suite the evening before. After a light breakfast, she was once again ready to return to Whitechapel.

  “Clinton…”

  “I know, Mum, as soon as I saw you I called up the driver. Did you have any success last evening in your quest to find your Polly?”

  “I think we just might have. At least two people seemed to think they knew her. Clinton, it is not a place for anyone to live, that area. How do they go on like that?”

  “They don’t live long, Mum. Many a time I’ve heard of another death that occurred from disease or some other unfortunate accident, and they have not reached their 30th year.”

  “If my friend Phillip should inquire or anyone else, you know where I will be then.”

  “Good luck. I will see you upon your return.”

  She had reread some passages in A Study in Scarlet and found herself once again fascinated with Mr. Holmes, and thought she would try to apply his logic to the situation she found herself in. It certainly couldn’t be a detriment to observe and look for hidden clues in the case of the quest for Polly Nichols.

  Anna and Helen were sitting on the front porch, dressed in lovely blue and maroon suits with pill box hats. Although matronly, the warmth of their smiles transcended age, and she felt a sisterhood with them.

  “Good afternoon, did you sleep well?” asked Madeline.

  “If the truth be known, we had a restless night. We began the morning tea at five, as we were unable to stop thinking of our brother’s daughter. I suppose we had always suspected it was that bad, but not having ventured there in the evening for a very long time, I don’t think we really understood how horrific the conditions were,” said Anna.

  “My dears, it is a dreadful place to try to exist. It is certainly understandable why those who find themselves with no other way to live would choose a stimulant to erase the pain of the life they are experiencing. What a playground for this mad man, or woman, but of that I doubt. You can see how he could mingle unnoticed in that crowd,” said Madeline.

  “Before this person began terrorizing our city, we did not seek her out. We had considered it and worried to ourselves, but did not take any action. We feel guilty we did not act sooner, but I feel now we may have a chance to save her,” said Helen.

  “We will certainly do all we can. Ladies, I must say, you both look very smart.”

  “As do you, I like your lavender coat. It’s becoming and brings out your lovely blue eyes,” said Anna.

  “I have very little clothing that does n
ot appear somber and devoid of any fashion. This is one of very few items of clothing I possess that is not dreary. Someday again I will wear something other than black. There will come a time when I will not need to carry my grief so openly and can keep it close without the garb that makes me look so pale and unattractive.”

  “Nonsense—you are not unattractive, but anyone can see in your eyes that you carry a burden. Someday if you feel able to, we will be here, if you wish to talk,” said Helen.

  “Yes, someday, but this day we have urgent business, so let us go.”

  The sun was again not the friend of London. Although it was not raining, the wet in the air dripped onto your clothing. The fog drenching them with dampness made them uncomfortable, and Madeline clenched her coat around her.

  “The Britannia is on Dorsett, just off of Commercial. Would you like to begin there?” asked Madeline.

  “That’s fine. I’d like to go to the Princess Alice, also. I spoke with Sophie and the girls yesterday, and they said they heard the Alice was the pub all the young people frequented,” said Helen.

  Even in the inclement weather, they were forced at times to walk single file. The mass of human flesh grinding against each other resembled cattle passing through a small gate.

  “Thank goodness, I see it in view. Let’s get out of this throng,” said Anna.

  Once inside the Britannia, Madeline was comforted to see they also served food and alcohol. She ordered bourbon for her and tea for everyone else, and they also ordered a plate of dried pastries. The pastries looked like they were several days old, but they nibbled on them despite this. It gave their fingers something to do in this place so unfamiliar to all of them.