The Queen's Accomplice (Maggie Hope Mystery #6)(41)



Durgin’s face creased into a frown. “She fits the criteria.”

“You don’t think…”

Durgin took a slurp of tea. “I can check for you.”

“Thank you,” she managed. “Now back to our victims. The dates…” She gestured to the board of photos.

“The Blackout Beast’s dates don’t match the original’s dates,” Mark stated. “Nor do they match the amount of time in between killings.”

“This is what you two boffins have been working on while I was out? A time line?”

“Yes, we’re working on a time line,” Maggie explained, “comparing the so-called Blackout Beast’s murders with the original Jack the Ripper killings.” She pulled out index cards with names she’d written in thick blue ink and went to the corkboard.



1942. She pinned up the names Joanna Metcalf and Doreen Leighton.

And then, directly below and in parallel, 1888. Mary Ann Nichols and Annie Chapman.

Then, in a neat row, the rest of the Ripper’s victims: Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly. She then ran a line of brown string between the Blackout Beast’s victims, and red connecting the original Jack the Ripper’s murders. So far, Joanna Metcalf lined up with Mary Ann Nichols and Doreen Leighton lined up with Annie Chapman.

The rest of the line was ominously blank. Three to go. Brynn…

She turned to the chalkboard and wrote: SIMILARITIES AND DISSIMILARITIES OF VICTIMS, then made two columns.

“Both Jack the Ripper’s and the Beast’s victims are female,” Mark said.

Durgin grimaced. “Thanks for the obvious.”

“And the Ripper’s victims were murdered over a period of twelve weeks,” Maggie said. “The Beast’s murders are much closer together.”

“Usually there’s what we call a ‘cooling-off’ period between murders.” Durgin scowled at the chalkboard. “But if he wants the attention of the press…or his urge for killing is that strong…Usually these sorts of murderers stick to a longer pattern. If he’s killing at short intervals, there might be something going on in his life, something new.”

Maggie wrote, New precipitating stressor?

“And, the Ripper’s victims were murdered outdoors, while ours were murdered inside, then moved,” Mark offered.

Maggie wrote it all down on the board, chalk squeaking. “And don’t forget the smell of gas on the victims’ clothes.”



Mark scratched his head. “Jack the Ripper’s victims were prostitutes, while the Beast’s are not.”

“Not prostitutes, but professionals,” Maggie clarified. “Independent women—with jobs outside the home. ATS, both of them.”

Durgin groaned. “God help us all.”

“But why Jack the Ripper?” Maggie mused. “And why now?”

“Shows a huge ego and decided lack of imagination,” Durgin muttered.

“Wait—” Maggie said. “Not so fast. Jack the Ripper is a powerful symbol for violence against women. Look at the women this new killer has targeted—educated professionals, coming and going as they please. This war has turned everything topsy-turvy. Women are now challenging the status quo of nighttime London as a male-dominated space. What if invoking the specter of Jack the Ripper is intended to keep women scared and at home?”

“Is this what they’re teaching you young ladies at boarding school these days?” Durgin’s eyebrow lifted. “Because you might want to ask for your money back.”

“No, wait—listen,” Maggie insisted. “During the Victorian era, professional women who roamed London at night triggered fears of women’s independence.”

Durgin closed his eyes and pretended to snore.

Maggie ignored him. “The point of the Jack the Ripper killings was to frighten women into staying at home. What if that’s the same cause now? What if someone doesn’t like how women have more freedoms now? Working traditional men’s jobs? Living alone? And so, invoking the mythical Jack the Ripper murders is a way to control women.” She was thinking out loud. “Women are always in danger on the streets and in public spaces, but now even more so, as more women come to London for war work and lead independent lives.”



She began to pace. “Our so-called Blackout Beast is drawing on these cultural fantasies we all share—our issues with the female body, about the dark labyrinthine city, the Minotaur, the madman.” She was warming to the topic, remembering a paper she’d written for a Women in Victorian Novels class at college, drawing upon William Thomas Stead’s book, The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon. “Our killer’s continuing a long-running theme of male violence and women’s helplessness against it. And so today’s women are conditioned—reconditioned—to stay at home and not ‘provoke’ a man’s violence. Well, sod that!”

“It’s all very interesting, theoretically, but why now?” Durgin crossed his arms.

“Don’t you see? Not only are women enjoying unprecedented freedoms, but London’s wartime blackout has created the perfect cover for women to vanish. Thousands upon thousands of young women have come to London since the war broke out. It’s a sea change in the way women are allowed to exist. In the context of history, it’s huge! Enormous!”

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