JOLLY JACK PUBLIC HOUSE,

LONDON

13 SEPTEMBER 1888

Thanks to poor directions given by the unpleasant captain, we wandered down a few dead-end streets before finding ourselves at the disreputable but lively public house.

A painted wooden sign depicting a grinning white skull on a black flag hung over the door. Inside, men sat hunched over tankards, swigging pints and wiping their mouths with torn sleeves, while women slunk around like wild cats on the prowl. Giving up any pretense of fitting in, I strode through the room with my head held high, stares and whispers rolling in my wake.

Most highborn women didn’t roam around in all-black riding ensembles with leather boots and gloves. While wearing riding habits when one wasn’t riding was slowly coming into fashion, the color of my attire and material was what set me apart.

I hoped I inspired a sense of unease, even if it was fleeting.

Once we reached the back alley, we were met with nothing but the sounds of our own beating hearts and Toby’s panting. I removed my gloves and rubbed behind his furry ears.

“Do you see him?” I asked, taking quick stock of our surroundings.

An open crate sat on top of several others that must have been unloaded recently, but there was no one here. I walked over to the wooden box and glanced inside. It was filled with rows of glasses; I imagined rowdy patrons broke a lot of them once they were well into their cups. Not exactly what I expected the captain to be selling on the black market, but profitable for him nonetheless.

Thomas knit his brows, staring at the crate. “Seems a bit odd that Mr. Dunlop would leave these goods unattended.”

“Perhaps he’s inside?”

Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel and marched back into the noisy pub. I leaned over the scored wooden bar, practically shouting to get the barkeep’s attention. The rotund woman wiped her hands on a dirty dishtowel, running her gaze over me as if I were a complete waste of time.

So much for fear-inspiring ensembles. Might as well have dressed in my Sunday best and left the leather for butchers.

“Shot of bourbon, miss?” she sneered, wiping out a pilsner glass with the rag, filling it with dark amber liquid and sliding it to a burly man at the end of the bar.

I watched him take a deep pull of the drink. I couldn’t control my lip from curling at his ability to ignore the cesspool of filth that had been wiped all around the glass. God only knew what kind of disease he was potentially being exposed to. I longed to take the rag back to Uncle’s laboratory and run a series of tests on it.

The group of men closest laughed, pulling me into the present. I gripped my fist, digging my nails into my palms for crescent-shaped serenity.

“Where’s the man who’s delivering the glasses? He wasn’t out back, and his employer has a message for him.” I leaned closer, dropping my voice to a stage whisper. “I suspect it has something to do with the custom house officer who boarded his ship with a contingent of men, looking for stolen goods. They may be heading here as we speak.” I let my suggestion hang in the air.

Her eyes went wide in her ruddy cheeks. I kept my expression neutral, though I was quite pleased the way the lie came so naturally, and at the reaction it fostered in a woman who looked scarier than some of the sea-wrecked men.

Swallowing audibly, she pointed toward the door to the alley. “He’s just outside.”

Producing a large knife from under the counter, she hacked a fish apart on a wooden carving board. “I’ll gut ’im next time I see ’im. You tell ’im next time he see Mary, he better run.” That explained the name of the ship. She waved the knife in the air, hollering at an impatient patron holding his empty mug in her line of sight. “Keep swinging that in me face and it won’t be the only thing I chop off, Billy.”

I slipped out the door again, shaking my head at Thomas before quickly filling him in.

Thomas knelt beside a crate, sticking his finger in something wet and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. I gulped down a rising sense of panic when I noticed what he’d found. “Perhaps he broke a glass and went to get a bandage.”

Thomas didn’t dignify that with an answer. He stood, leading Toby close to the blood. “Toby, find,” he gently commanded the animal.

I watched in amazement as the dog obediently sniffed around until he picked up the scent. His tail wagged so hard I thought he’d take off like a bird, flying through the cross streets and alleyways. Thomas let the leash go and we trotted behind the dog while he ran down one alley, then the next.

We’d gone only about five streets over when I saw a heap of tattered clothing propped against an abandoned building.

A man was sitting with his legs outstretched, his chin resting on his chest, eyes closed peacefully. His hand dripped spots of blood onto his shirt. I breathed a sigh of relief. A miserable drunk with a small cut was something I could deal with. Toby stopped a few feet from the man, growling low in his throat.

“Audrey Rose, wait.” Thomas grabbed for my coat sleeve, but I maneuvered out of reach.

I thought it odd Thomas finally used my Christian name, but didn’t stop to ponder it or his worried tone. It was getting late in the day. Nathaniel would be expecting me for supper shortly, and I didn’t want to explain why I was only just arriving home after our lunch at the park.

Walking right up to the indisposed man, I cleared my throat. He didn’t move. I tried again, a bit louder this time with the same results.

Blasted sailors and their love of all things liquid. I heard Thomas saying something behind me, but ignored him, bending to tap the man’s shoulder. Honestly, I didn’t appreciate all the males in my life thinking me incapable. I’d show every one of them I could handle anything they could, possibly even better.

I tapped him a bit more. “Excuse me, sir. Are you—”

I’d barely touched him when his head swung back, revealing a sinister crimson smile slashed across his neck.

It wasn’t his hand that was cut after all. Someone screamed; perhaps it was me. Though it would have made me happier if it were Thomas Blasted Cresswell.

Thomas pulled me back, rocking me gently in his arms, and I didn’t even care that it was vastly inappropriate. “Divorce yourself from emotions, Audrey Rose. See it like an equation that needs solving. That’s all it is now. It’s going to be all right.”

When I looked at my hands I knew that was a horrible lie.

Everything was most certainly not okay, and this was no mathematical equation; my hands were covered in sticky blood. I frantically wiped them off on my bodice, but it was no use. Blood stained my fingers in a crimson accusation.

Somehow, some way, I was responsible for this man’s death.

Nathaniel sat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, looking more serious than a man facing a firing squad.

When the detective inspector showed up on our doorstep with me covered in blood and shivering beneath a horse blanket, he’d gone deathly pale. My aunt had nearly fainted herself when she’d seen me and ushered her daughter into their rooms, promising a thorough discussion on proper behavior once I was decent.

Something else to look forward to.

Each time I closed my eyes the scene replayed in my mind. The horrid, gaping smile taunting me. I’d heard police mention his neck was almost severed completely.

A few tendons and ligaments were barely saving him from decapitation, a fact I was well aware of. I shivered. There was something infinitely worse about touching a still-warm dead person as opposed to cutting open the cold ones in Uncle’s laboratory.

“Here. Drink this.” Nathaniel pressed a hot cup of tea into my hands. I hadn’t seen him cross the room. I stared at the steam rising off the pale, almost golden liquid.

It was impossible, but I swear I could’ve almost heard the last few strained beats of the man’s heart as he bled out in front of me.

Thomas assured me even if we’d arrived moments after the attack, he’d likely have died almost instantly. There was an agonizing feeling deep inside of me, wondering if I’d held a cloth to his wound instead of knocking his head askance if it could’ve saved his life. What kind of girl was so accustomed to blood she paid it no mind? A terrible one.

“If there’s anything else we can do, Detective,” Nathaniel said, ushering the man from the drawing room. I’d forgotten he was even there.

I heard snippets of conversation as they made their way to the front door. An identification card was found in the man’s pocket, confirming my worst fears: someone got to Mr. Dunlop before I could question him. Guilt wrapped itself so tightly around me, I could scarcely breathe. How many men needed to die before I discovered the truth?

I sipped the fragrant tea, letting the warmth slide down my throat all the way into my gullet, heating me from the inside out.

I knew nothing regarding Mr. Dunlop and his personal life, so I hadn’t the slightest clue who would wish him dead. Was it someone he worked with?

The whole crew of the Mary See certainly appeared capable of murder, but looks had a troubling way of being deceiving. Mother used to read stories from books she’d brought from Grandmama’s. At first I’d turned my nose up at them, thinking nothing good could come from such battered covers. I’d been snobbish and wrong.

The words written between those crinkled pages were magical; like a fairy princess hiding amongst paupers. Mother taught me judging something from its outward appearance was silly, a lesson I tried remembering often.

Recalling the way I’d curl up in her lap brought on a new wave of sadness. How much death and destruction must one girl go through in a lifetime? As the door opened and closed, I blinked tears back, angry with myself for not being tougher.

Nathaniel sank into the high-backed chair across from me, leaning over to look me in the eyes. I half expected him to scold me for venturing out, being reckless as I was prone to be; instead, he smiled.

“You’re the bravest person I know, little Sister.”

I couldn’t stop myself from snorting. I was a sniffling, teary mess—hardly the mark of bravery. Thomas had held me the entire carriage ride home just so I wouldn’t break apart. I’d siphoned his strength and missed it terribly now. Nathaniel shook his head, easily reading my thoughts. Well, I hope not the one regarding Thomas with his arms around me.

“Half the men in Father’s circle wouldn’t have dared to question men who work the docks,” he said. “It takes an extraordinary amount of courage to do what you did.” He dropped his gaze. “My only regret with your outing today is the horror of seeing that man with his—I’m truly sorry you were the one to find him.”

I held a hand up to stall him. I didn’t want to think about finding poor Mr. Dunlop anymore. I lifted my chin, chasing the would-be tears away.

“Thank you.” I stood, setting my teacup down on the table, and hugged my arms to my chest. I needed to get out of this room and clear my head.

Reaching down to gather my skirts, I realized I was still dressed in my blood-smeared riding habit and breeches. Perhaps the news of my grisly discovery wasn’t the only thing that had made my aunt nearly faint.

First thing I needed to do was change into clean clothing. Even the strongest soldier in the queen’s army wouldn’t run around in battered trousers, I assured myself.

Nathaniel got up from his own seat. “Where are you going?”

I smiled. “To change. Then I’m calling on Thomas. There are things I need to discuss with him, and I’m afraid they cannot wait until morning.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth, ready to argue, but stopped himself. I’d just discovered a mutilated man in an alley on the docks. Calling on Mr. Thomas Cresswell late in the afternoon was the least of his worries.

He glanced at the clock, then back at me. “I’m leaving shortly myself. I probably won’t be home until after you’re already asleep. Please, for my sake, try to get home before it gets dark out. We’ve both had enough excitement for one evening. Were I to have another fright like it, I might end up dying on the spot.”

As we stepped into the hallway, I really looked at my brother.

Stress was still getting the better of him. Little lines were deepening around his eyes; exhaustion taking an even greater toll on him than it had a few nights ago.

I felt horrible adding to his already full plate. He was always busy studying, and now with Father gone he was tending to the house and me all while some murderer was running around, slaughtering women. I wasn’t making his job any easier by sneaking out at night and finding dead men in the afternoon.

I twisted Mother’s ring around my finger one way and then the next.

“How would you feel if I asked Thomas to come by here for a bit instead?” I knew it was an outrageous question since he wouldn’t be home to chaperone us, but figured it might ease his mind knowing I wouldn’t be leaving the premises after all. Plus, Aunt Amelia and Liza were in the house; it wasn’t as if I’d be all alone with him.

“Audrey Rose… I’m not certain about that.”

He stared at me for a painfully long few seconds, struggling with what was socially proper and what would make him inevitably feel better. He pulled his favorite comb out, running it through his hair, then placed it back in his jacket pocket before finally answering.

“Very well. I’ll telephone him on my way out. You’re not to close any doors.” He took a deep breath and glanced down the hall. “Please keep to the dining room and parlor. Be sure to stay a decent length apart. Last thing we need are rumors circulating. Father will be home in less than two weeks. He’ll slay us both if your reputation is tarnished. Especially since he’s…”

Nathaniel snapped his mouth shut and turned. He wasn’t getting away with keeping secrets that easily. I charged after him and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back around.

“Especially since he’s what?” I demanded. “What aren’t you telling me, Nathaniel? Has he been back in London? Is he still unwell?”

My brother looked as if he’d rather be speaking with the detective inspector again, and an awful feeling bubbled up my throat. I shook his arm, my expression pleading. He sighed. It never took long for him to give in to his only sibling, and I felt only slightly terrible for exploiting that weakness.

“Your father has been receiving callers in both town and country,” Aunt Amelia said, emerging, it seemed, from out of thin air. She looked like a feminine version of my father and uncle; tall, fair, and beautiful.

One would never imagine she was in her early forties. Aunt Amelia embodied the very essence of what a woman should strive to be at all times. Everything from her neatly styled hair to her silk-adorned feet was immaculate and delicate.

Even the disapproving, pinched expression on her face was royal-looking. “Though after tonight’s debauchery, and the rumors surely following, I’m not sure he’ll have much success. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were trying to ruin all of your prospects.”

I stared from my aunt to my brother. “You said he hadn’t left Bath at all.”

“A young man’s been writing to Father for weeks now. From what I’ve gathered his family is very well connected politically.” Nathaniel straightened his suit. “The merging of our families would make sense. Father returned to London to meet with him, but it was only for a day.”

It was as if the ground had split open in a giant yawn that swallowed me whole. I couldn’t stop thinking about Father secretly meeting potential husbands while he was supposed to be recuperating.

“But I haven’t even come out in society yet!” I said. “I’ve got an entire year before worrying about balls, and parties. How am I supposed to deal with this on top of working for Uncle and the murders going on in Whitechapel? I cannot possibly entertain the notion of anyone courting me.”

Except for possibly one boy with mischief in his soul. Then a thought struck… Thomas’s family was connected politically, as far as I knew. And we had been interacting for weeks. Could his flirtations be real, then?

Aunt Amelia crossed herself. “It will be a miracle if they remain interested in that merger now. You’ve got some serious mending to attend to. I’m organizing a tea for tomorrow afternoon. It’ll do you a world of good, interacting with girls your age who are interested in decent things. There’ll be no more childish games or discussions of murder. Certainly no ‘working’ for your uncle and his unnatural science. If your father learns of this he’ll relapse. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

I stared at my brother for assistance, but he was preoccupied. “But—”

Nathaniel checked the clock in the hallway, then gave me a sympathetic look. “Try not to dwell on it now. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine. I really must be off. I was supposed to meet the head barrister half an hour ago.”

Without waiting for my response, my brother tipped his hat to Aunt Amelia and me, then walked briskly down the hallway and out the front door, leaving me alone to deal with the aftermath of the bomb he’d just dropped on me.

Why was Father taking a sudden interest in marrying me off, and who was the mystery man writing about me? If it wasn’t Thomas, then who was it? An uncomfortable feeling slithered like snakes through my gut. I didn’t like this turn of events one bit and would do everything in my power to stall any courting. I clenched my fists.

“Arranged marriages have gone out of fashion,” I stated, hoping to appeal to my aunt’s vanity. “People would surely gossip about it.”

“First things first,” Aunt Amelia said, clapping her hands and ignoring me altogether. “Time to get rid of those disgusting blood-soaked garments. Then we’ll address the matter of your hair.”

She scrunched her nose as if she were observing a rodent rummaging through rubbish. I cringed. My hair had been the last thing on my mind after finding a man dead.

“Honestly, Audrey Rose, you’re far too pretty and too old to be running around like a tomboy,” she said. “Bring your needle and thread down after your bath; it’s high time we worked on your hope chest.”