Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(88)
Thomas and I exchanged looks. We were getting closer; I could sense it in the way gooseflesh rose along my arms. Either we’d missed him by a week, or he was still inside, lurking in the darkened building. I hid my shudder as I faced Minnie again.
“I’m sorry to trouble you with one more question,” I said, “but did anything unusual occur right before he disappeared?”
Minnie assumed her spot behind the counter and ran her fingers over the ornate cash register. “Nothing extraordinary. Except…” She bit her lip. “Except Henry did have a few words with him about frightening me. He told him to cease any foul ideas he might have, and that we were to be married soon. He told me all about it; it was terribly romantic.”
I thanked Minnie for her time and promised to stop by for tea the next afternoon. Once she’d written her address down, I followed Thomas outside.
Snow decided to join us, falling in excited clumps. We stood under the striped awning of the pharmacy, inspecting the pharmacy across the street. No lights flickered behind the curtains, no gilded outlines to hint at someone being shut in tight. All was eerily still, like it was watching us back.
Thomas tapped his fingers at his side, frowning. “If he’s taking the missing women and holding them prisoner, then it’s not unreasonable to think he could have some sort of… dungeon… in the basement.”
“It would explain why he closed the pharmacy. He wouldn’t want anyone overhearing any cries for help,” I said. “Would he actually remain here, after being confronted by someone? If Henry noticed odd behavior and threatened him, he might have feared police involvement. Maybe he did slip into the night.
He could be anywhere by now.”
Thomas appraised the building, then shifted his attention to the alleyway
beside it. “Someone’s still there; look at the rubbish bins. They’re overflowing.”
“That doesn’t prove he’s the one who’s filled them, though.”
“True enough. But the number painted on them matches the number above the door.” Thomas lifted his chin. “The rubbish bin beside it is also full, and matches the building to the left. While it is possible someone else took advantage and put their rubbish in his bin, it’s not probable. A simple glimpse inside it might give us a better answer.”
Snowflakes quickly stuck to the cold cobblestones of the street. The sun was ready to set and it would only get colder and more dangerous to be out. Digging in someone’s rubbish hardly seemed like the sort of evening jaunt I’d care for with my beloved. I sighed. Wants and desires didn’t take precedence when there were missing women and a brutal murderer running amok.
“Fine.” I swept my arm out. At least I hadn’t worn my favorite gloves today.
“Let’s see what clues we can find in the trash.”
Two hours later police swarmed like angry bees around a hive. Thomas leaned against the pharmacy, arms crossed as he watched them collect the bloodied bedsheet. He had the decency of not uttering anything close to “I told you so,”
which was good for his health. I was cold and miserable, and my mood plummeted along with the temperature. I shivered under the horsehair blanket an officer offered me, teeth chattering as snow continued to fall in drifts. Winds whipped down the streets, lifting stray hairs and raising gooseflesh.
General Inspector Hubbard exited the building, his expression more grim than when he’d first disappeared through the doors. I tried not to glare in his direction, though he was the reason I was standing outside in the freezing elements, instead of investigating the scene. Heaven forbid I witness a body in any sort of indecent state, such as dead.
He motioned for the officers to gather around. “Put everything back where you found it. There’s no sign of any wrongdoing here.” He met my gaze briefly, though I wasn’t surprised it didn’t linger on me long. He addressed Thomas. “It appears to be a…” His attention wavered, and I rolled my eyes. “There’s a space in the basement that appears to have been used as an abortion chamber.”
He puckered his lips, his entire expression turning sour. His tone implied it wasn’t the medical procedure but the women who’d seek such a service that bothered him. I immediately wished I could jab him with the tip of my cane.
“There were medical tools and bloodstained sheets. No signs of murder. No bodies.” He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled. A carriage clattered to a stop in front of us and he opened the door, ushering us in. “Perhaps it’s best if you stick to studying the bodies we discover from now on. It’s better to not waste either of our time. We won’t come on a fool’s errand again. Especially not for a pair who seem to only be after fame.”
“Pardon me?” Thomas asked, sounding too confused to be angry.
“Oh, I’ve heard of you two.” The general inspector sneered. “And that doctor you’re with. Thought you could come here and start that Jack the Ripper nonsense in my city, did you?” He jabbed his hand at the open carriage, his look free from any politeness. “I don’t want to see you making any further problems.
Have I made myself clear? One more slipup, and I’ll have you both in custody.”
Thomas and I glanced at each other. There was no point in arguing with this man—he’d already made up his mind about who we were, no matter that it couldn’t be further from the truth. With nothing left to say, Thomas helped me into the carriage.