Stalking Jack: The Hunt Begins... (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 1) (4 page)

I hope Mr. Franks will continue to befriend us.

“Good-night, my dears, I would give my soul away, if I could hold you in my arms one more time.”

On the morning of the 15
th
, she began to take stock of her belongings, sorting and beginning the task of packing her suitcase. There would be only one more day before they arrived in London. Her purpose, in just a few short days of this journey, had gone from escape to a mission. They had sailed on the 10
th
of August and today, just five days later, her world had changed dramatically. She had abandoned any feeling of safety or security, for her, there would never be that comfort again. Now there was a reckless, fearless person that had taken her place for she no longer feared death but welcomed it because that would mean she could rejoin her family. She thought about what could she do while she still lived that would give her life meaning, and now with the menacing
Ripper
terrorizing London and the niece of Anna and Helen, who might be in peril, she felt she had a road forward. She would go into Whitechapel, find Mary Ann and bring her safely home to her family.

On deck, she saw the familiar face of Phillip. It was early, and no one she knew was about, so she took her place in her favorite deck chair and watched the sea rise and fall. The occasional school of dolphins would appear, and she never stopped enjoying the site of them.

“Mrs. Donovan, your drinks, and cake. I saw you coming towards your chair and took the liberty to bring your usual morning fare.”

“Thank you, Phillip, for everything. I will miss you, and I hope you will be on my return voyage. I felt comforted by your considerations, and I often thought how my husband, Russell, would have been pleased to have you be so kind to me.”

“If I may ask, Mum, how are you doing? Does anyone, but me, know about what happened?”

“No, Phillip, only you. I am not so brave to openly discuss that matter. You have kept my confidence, and that is a good thing. Maybe someday I will be able to speak about what my heart thinks of. All through the trip when I heard children’s laughter, I saw my Will and Nate chasing each other and rolling with laughter. The desire to just fade away in grief has been overwhelming, but you have helped me.”

Phillip pressed a piece of paper into her hand and said, “We will not put out to sea again for at least ten days, if you need anything―anything at all―please contact me. I have written my address here. I live with my cousin, Hugh; he is almost thirty and as grounded as they come, Mum. After I am gone, please contact him if you need a friend in the city. I have telegraphed him about you, and he said he would be at your service. He is a solicitor with some influence in the area and certainly can help you find housing if you are in the need of it.”

“I’ll be staying at the Hotel George for now, but if I am to extend my stay here, I will need some assistance in finding adequate housing. Either way, I am inclined to think I may contact your cousin after all.”

“Good. I will leave you now to your leisure, and I will see you again for the luncheon hour.”

On the first evening of the voyage, Madeline had sat late into the evening, alone, writing in her journal, perplexed about how difficult her life had recently been. When he came off duty, Phillip had seen her physically shaken and sat with her. His unexpected warmth and kindness led her to weep, and she told him of the circumstances that had led her to take this trip. He had promised her he would not reveal any of their conversation, and he had been good to his word. This trip was necessary for her; it had forced her to interact with the world again.

August 16, 1888

Today is the last day of our journey. We will be at London’s front door in the morning. I remember speaking with Russell about coming here one day. We had thought when the children were a little older; perhaps we would take a year to travel. He was doing so well at the bank, and father had offered to help finance the trip. How simple and wonderful life once was.

  Russell, at night, sometimes I can feel you calling my name and wake to calm the children’s crying, and when I realize you are gone, my only solace is a treasured silver flask that holds precious drops of bourbon. I know you wouldn’t approve of that either, but somehow I believe you would forgive me nonetheless. Besides, I only partake of enough that could fairly intoxicate a bird. How I would have enjoyed discussing this Jack the Ripper with you. You would not approve of me going into Whitechapel, but I am going to do some good while I am left alone in this world.

She stopped writing when another steward came by and requested another glass of absinthe.

Everyone is rushing to their destination, happy families playing together, none of them realizing that they have already arrived at it. This now, this moment they have, wherever they are going is secondary to their being with each other today. How I envy them!

I feel fortunate to have met the ladies of Mumford Street; I will endeavor to be their ally.

The morning sun was rising, directly pointing at her so that she had to shade her eyes with her hand. She wondered if the boys were dancing in the clouds, and instinctively raised her hands to wave at the sky. Someday, she thought, I will be with you again.

“Mrs. Donovan, how are you this morning?” said Jonathan.

“Well, sir, well.”

“We must all dine together and this time in the Grand Saloon. You must let me have the company of you and the fine ladies. I will miss our conversations about Mr. Holmes and even though an unusual conversation, the Ripper has put our mettle to the test. Do you have any opinions about him?”

“I suppose we should start with that. The perpetrator must be male. We must assume he is mad; I cannot imagine that just evil would waste its time with such a slaughter. Evil usually has a purpose with an end in monetary or power gain they achieve in the fulfilling of the crime. There is no purpose to these crimes, but malicious murder, murder for the sake of cruelty; at least those are my thoughts.”

“Do you agree with the theory that it must be a doctor or a butcher?”

“I don’t think it can be that limited. The cooks in any house in London would have the knowledge of cutting up a carcass and would be able to have the skill to do such damage.”

“Well, then, we would have a masterful amount of suspects. I am anxious to learn more truths and less fiction. I hope that will be the case when I start my investigation.”

The ladies began to file onto the deck, taking the chairs and forming them into a circle.

“Good morning ladies,” Madeline called out. “May we join you?”

“Please do, a lovely morning to start our last day, don’t you think?” asked Anna.

Madeline and Mr. Franks gathered their refreshments and paperwork and made their way over to their friends.

“My dear friends—Mr. Franks has kindly extended an invitation to us to join him for dinner in the Grand Ballroom this evening. Would that be agreeable to you?” said Madeline.

“What a lovely man you are, Mr. Franks, but I am not certain we should go, as we have planned to pack up our belongings this evening and get ourselves put together properly for our arrival,” said Helen.

“Ladies, I may not get the chance again to see all of you. You must come.”

“That will not be the case, Mr. Franks, as you must come and dine with us at Mumford Street. Felicia, Sophie, and Grace live just a five-minute walk from us, and we can all have supper and a visit together once again. We will insist, I’m afraid,” Helen continued with a smile.

“You cannot disappoint us, Mr. Franks, and may we call you Jonathan. I feel you are a friend,” said Grace, who spoke little when Mr. Franks was present. She was particularly shy around men.

“At last, I did not feel it my place to ask, but may we all do that. Ladies, may I call you by your first names?”

Madeline was the only one who hesitated, but then realized how foolish she was, after all, what is the harm in it, she thought and agreed also.

“Will we finish our novel today? You both have the copies of the book, and we shall be at a great loss if we do not know how the book ends,” said Sophie.

After an hour or so of reading, both Anna and Helen were tapping their foreheads with their white handkerchiefs, leaning in with anticipation and anxiety. When they finished, there were sighs and many “OH’s”.

“Madeline, I don’t know much about the Mormon’s. Can all they say about them be true? That’s in your backyard, Salt Lake City. The Latter Day Saints—are they notorious in America?” said Sophie.

“It is in America, but I’m afraid Utah is thousands of miles away from where I reside in Chicago, and I have never been there. There are Mormon’s that live about us. They bring brochures to our doors describing their religion, and sometimes they stop to talk to us. They are very consistent with their solicitation in trying to convert someone to their religion. I have never heard it said, that I can recall, however, that they in some way present a threat to anyone. It is a curious plot indeed.”

“What about who the murderer turned out to be? Did anyone guess?” asked Jonathan.

There seemed to be a consensus that everyone had discerned who it was, but Madeline doubted that. She had only come to her conclusion in the last few pages of the book and deemed it lucky that she was right. The plot was complicated and unpredictable, but the ladies, bless them, would never have admitted that amongst each other. Jonathan was quite boastful of saying he knew who did it early into the novel. Of that, she definitely was skeptical, but perhaps he had also an analytical mind, after all, she did not know him that well.

“If this, what is his name again, Boyle, ever writes another novel, we must be sure to do another reading together,” said Anna.

“It’s Doyle, but I agree. I do hope he writes another mystery, but now we have our own. We need to find your niece, Mary Ann. As soon as I settle in, I will be in to see you,” said Madeline.

“We will meet tonight then at the Grand Saloon before we take our leave of each other,” said Anna.

“Thank you, Jonathan, for providing this night for us. I look forward to it and also am saddened to think we will not be able to share our conversations,” said Madeline.

“I too, will miss it and hope for our continued friendship.”

As she dressed for dinner
,
for the first time, she wished she had brought something other than all black dresses. She would never stop mourning, at least, that’s how she felt today, but she was young, and the drabness of her pale white face against the deep black was disconcerting. She had brought along her grandmother’s white lace shawl, the stitching so delicate and beautiful, she liked to run her fingers across it, and draped it around her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she was satisfied that it brightened her appearance.

The orchestra was playing in the Grand Saloon; with the room decorations festive, as it was the last dinner that would be served to the travelers before they arrived at their destination.

“A toast, to the loveliest ladies in all of London,” said Jonathan.

Grace blushed, Helen pushed her shoulders back, and Anna and the others smiled broadly, appreciating his flattery.

“It has been a while since I have been called lovely, Jonathan, and it is good to hear, no matter how untrue the statement. Any further developments regarding The Ripper?” said Anna.

“Now they are saying, perhaps it was a policeman or other figure of authority that approached the women, and that is why they did not scream. But it seems a simpler explanation might be if the ladies were inebriated or had partaken of a drug, their mental capacity made it easy to overtake them.  He attacked in the darkest part of the night when there is almost no activity in the streets, and it allowed him a sort of cover.”

“It makes me shudder to think such a person exists and can hide among us and then become this sadist monster in the evening. It is frightening to think we may have spoken to him in the market,” said Helen.

“Perhaps they have caught him, and we have not heard the news. We are two or three days behind in hearing the latest report,” said Madeline.

“That would indeed put my mind at rest. As it is, instead of yearning for our home again, I find myself reluctant to go back into my neighborhood. It is a foolish old woman’s fears, but I don’t seem to be able to stop dreading it,” said Sophie.

“I am skilled with a revolver, and I mean to take it out of its cob webbed storage and have it at my disposal,” said Helen.

“If I am able, I will stop in to check on you. I don’t know what my schedule will be, but as I am certain to be in the area of your home, I will try to find the time to call on you. It would be a good thing to reassure you that you have nothing to fear, but I don’t think that is the case. I don’t think any woman will be completely safe while he roams the streets, even though it seems he targets ladies of the evening, it may just be, that for now, he has found them the most convenient to attack,” said Jonathan.

“I propose a toast also. “May only good things light upon our doorstep, lady luck be our constant companion and may God bless you all,” said Madeline.