Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper, #1)(45)
“I’d hardly consider proving his innocence a waste of time.” Why police refused to let Uncle out of the asylum, I hadn’t a clue. Nathaniel was right: Uncle certainly wasn’t the only one being charged with the crimes. “News sources are something else entirely. I can’t believe you’re reading any of it.”
I’d never seen such sensationalist rubbish strewn across every cover. Reporters couldn’t get their fill of Leather Apron. They were creating a star out of a madman; glorifying a villain. The lengths people went through to sell a paper was nearly as disgusting as the crimes themselves.
“Awful though they may be, the papers offer some amusement, Sister.”
“Honestly,” I said. “The whole thing sours my stomach. Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news? I feel sorry for their poor families.”
That was enough dabbling in the strange and wonderful for me, thank you kindly. I needn’t waste time on distractions.
Nathaniel, however, was on a personal mission over the last twelve days to yank me from the depths of my despair. His answer to my troubles came in the form of two tickets to the “Greatest Show on Earth.” Protestations fell upon deaf ears, so I relented.
He’d had a disturbing amount of fabric brought over last week in the hope that a new, colorful frock would chase all the dark clouds away. If only life’s problems could be solved with a frilly dress and a pair of slippers. To hell with the world around us, so long as we looked our best.
“Let’s be on our way, then,” Nathaniel said, checking the grandfather clock. I followed him to the hansom cab, allowing the coachman to help me inside this time, relieved we were taking the fastest means of transportation we owned.
I sat in an inky puddle of expensive silks, rearranging my skirts to make room for my brother in the small carriage, my mind churning with different angles to study the case from.
Nathaniel sat beside me, looking like a child whose favorite toy had gone missing. I was a wretch of a sister. Here I was all wrapped up in my own mind, selfishly ignoring the people who were still very much present in my life.
“You know”—I squeezed his hand—“I’m getting rather excited about the circus after all.”
Nathaniel beamed, and I felt mildly redeemed in the court of good deeds, even if I’d lied to get there.
The Olympia was one of the most magnificent buildings in the kingdom; it rivaled even the palace in its splendor and sheer magnitude.
“Look. There it is,” Nathaniel said, pointing toward the building.
As our carriage pulled up to the enormous stone and iron compound, I watched a train chug by, puffing white clouds into the atmosphere in dizzying intervals.
Steam was a fascinating source of power; so readily available and used in so many varying applications. I thought again of Father’s unique drawings of old toys and war contraptions. They could be on display all across London, perhaps even in the menagerie here tonight, for hundreds of people to marvel at.
That was, if he hadn’t stopped making them.
The last train car screeched by and we were off again, making our way to the Olympia’s front entrance. People filed in four at a time, all but fighting to catch the first glimpse of the “Greatest Show on Earth.”
“Your friends are over there,” Nathaniel said. I caught sight of Victoria and her flock of emerald-colored parrots scanning the crowd, but luckily they disappeared into the building without seeing me.
“Shame we missed them,” I said. I hoped to avoid them as much as possible this evening. I liked them well enough but wanted to enjoy time alone with my brother.
Taking our coachman’s hand, I hopped down from the carriage, my heels catching in the cobblestones as I made my way to the line.
“Do you smell that?” I asked. “Reminds me of Grandmama’s home.”
Spicy sweet incense wafted over the crowd, spilling out through the arched doorway, filling the warm night air with sultry richness. Against my better judgment, my heart joined the mayhem, soaring between my ribs as if it were one of the pretty ladies on the flying trapeze. Giving into childlike wonder, I grabbed my brother’s hand, dragging him through large doors and into the grandest room in the world.
Once inside, I slowly spun in place, my focus riveted on the domed ceiling.
“Nathaniel, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”
The entire roof was made of glass and iron; each and every last star pricking the sky, it seemed, watched the jeweled crowd—showing off their own dazzling diamond smiles.
“Truly, you should spend more time among the living, Sister.” Nathaniel chuckled at my astonishment, but I couldn’t quite tear my attention from the mesmerizing night sky.
“Perhaps I will.” My hand fluttered to my heart, resting there, as I gazed at slender iron bars arching high above us. I wasn’t sure how such a thing was possible. “How can so much glass and metal be supported by a smattering of iron branches?”
It was utterly beautiful, reminding me of looking up through a forest of metal.
“Must be one of those engineering wonders of the world,” Nathaniel said, grinning. Somehow, he managed to escort me farther into the chaos.
Swathes of alternating black and brightly colored silk hung from rafters, acting as patricians while billowing toward the crowd, inviting us to come in and be hypnotized by exotic wonders.