Stalking Jack: The Hunt Begins... (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Suspicion

Several days passed during which
she did not visit Whitechapel, but spent time thinking of her suspects and reading every newspaper that contained new information. Jonathan had come, but only for a brief visit. He continued to be busy chasing new leads and working to meet his papers deadlines. Hugh had finally recovered and was meeting her for dinner that very evening.

September 24, 1888

My ventures out into Whitechapel have given me new insight into the goings on of the underbelly of the streets. It is a rough place for any human to exist. My suspicions linger with regards to Rocks because of her surly and aggressive behavior.  I am assuming I met the man Annie Chapman was with. Even though he terrified me, he did not harm me nor did he seem to wish to. However, as there were many people about, I do not know his true intent. I feel I am, in some small way, making some inroads. I am forming opinions that are concrete. I hope to follow Motts and Fielding again.

She was attempting to measure her use of the opium and hoped Hugh would not notice any change in her. It was a necessary part of her life now, and she wasn’t sure how it might affect her future. She wondered if she was too far into the grips of addiction already and what negative effects it would have on her life.

She found herself smiling immediately when she saw Hugh walk into the foyer.

“Madeline, it is good to see you. It has been many weeks, and I have worried about your safety and how you are getting on after these dreadful incidents.”

“It is I who was so worried about you. I must scold you for not letting me come to see you.”

“You must not worry about me.”

“In the future, should you ever be ill again, I will have to insist on your letting me come to nurse you back to health.”

“I did not want to have you burdened with contracting my ailment and know it would have been completely my fault if you did. But if it means our friendship, I will consider it and am flattered you wished to assist me in my time of need. But I feel somehow, I would be reluctant to ask for your help. Hopefully, I will not be unwell again for a long time.”

“You have become my dearest friend, Hugh, and will be for a long time to come. I hope nothing that occurs will change your mind about that.”

“Curious words…what could ever change my mind about our friendship? I dare say nothing.”

“I am glad of that. I am eager to have you accompany me to Whitechapel this evening, but I wasn’t sure whether your health would permit it.”

“I anticipated you asking and brought umbrellas for us. There is a slight drizzle outside. Have you made any progress or come to any conclusions?”

“The same people I have suspected remain on my list. Rocks, the lady butcher, who I all but discounted, has now been put back on the list due to my observing her violent outbursts and tendency to use force. Mr. Motts may just seem like a blowhard, but he also treats women, in general, with contempt and has temper issues. Mr. Fielding is a peculiar one; he has so much hate for everyone, for the human race and his bitterness fairly drips from his mouth. I am not certain about him.”

“Are there any others that you consider?”

“There are other people, but I have nothing tangible, just an instinct about them. They shall remain undisclosed for the moment.”

“But how have you been personally…I have spoken to my uncle, and he seemed concerned about your health. As a doctor, he said he felt any details were privileged information, so he did not go on, but I am asking you. My dear friend, how are you really?”

“I am as well as you could expect. I am surviving the only way I know I can right now. Perhaps in ways you might not approve, but nonetheless, I am going on.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Is something wrong that I can help with?”

“There is so much wrong, isn’t there? The wrong permeates everywhere in this city; it behooves us to act, and each of us must assume the responsibility for their own lives and do as they see fit.”

“Something sounds so dark in your words; now I am certain there is something that you are not telling me.”

“Perhaps another day, but, for now, I am happy for your returned health, that you are here sharing a meal with me, and that you have graciously accepted my request for another tedious trip to the streets.”

“All right, take my arm; your carriage awaits, my dear lady.”

“We have been to Ten Bells and Queens Head many times; I thought perhaps we could go to the Princess Alice and the Britannia this time. They are just a short distance from each other.”

“Yes, I know them. It will be my pleasure to take you there.”

She was relieved to be going to Whitechapel as herself and not as
Jenny
and to have his company. It was productive to go there as a low woman but also dangerous. Sometimes she was oblivious to that danger and sometimes it came upon her like a wave and frightened her. She wanted to be brave but wasn’t always capable of doing that.

They walked in the rain together. Holding onto his arm made her feel a sense of home and comfort. She was beginning to like Hugh and Jonathan in ways that were no longer just friendship.

The Princess Alice was dirtier than the Ten Bells. It seemed even noisier than Ten Bells if that was possible.

“There are no familiar faces here. I have been to Ten Bells often enough to recognize many of the patrons. I have not seen Bob Fielding of late and hoped that we might see him this evening.”

“It is Saturday, so we have the best chance of doing that. You can see the crowds are out in force. I don’t suppose many of the residents return to the dreariness of the public houses until late tonight.”

She sipped on her bourbon and soda while Hugh had his whiskey. A man coming through the door caught Madeline’s eye.

“I think that is Harry Nelson. He still looks unwell. Hugh, would you mind…could you go over and ask him to join us? I feel sorry for him. Do you remember him; he is the one who assisted us that day at the market with Rocks?”

“Of course, I’ll go over to him.”

Mr. Nelson came over and sat next to Hugh at the bar.

“Thank you for inviting me over, Mrs. Donovan. How are you?”

“I am well, Mr. Nelson, but you still seem to be suffering from your ailment. Hugh has an uncle who is a doctor, perhaps he could attend you.”

“I may take you up on that.”

“Let us get something to eat, that may help a little,” said Madeline.

“I am not sure what is wrong with me. It may just be the hard life of a farmer. I have struggled to keep up with the farm, and don’t have the help I once had,” said Harry.

“It must be difficult to carry on when you are ill,” said Hugh. “I assure you that my uncle would see you tomorrow if you so wish it,” said Hugh.

“Perhaps, I will do that. How is your search going for
the Ripper
?”

“I am still looking, seeking clues, wherever I can find them. It is stalled, though; I have not found anything yet that I could even go to the police with. That is disappointing, but I will keep going as long as this person remains at large.”

“It is unusual that you proceed in this way. Are you not afraid?”

“Of course, I am, but it is a secondary emotion to the way I feel about the apprehension of this murderer.”

“I wish you success in this venture. I think we would all feel better if this person was off these mean streets. There is enough sorrow and heartbreak here without the addition of this horror.”

“We all wish that life could get better, but London is a divided city. The east side destiny seems fraught with poverty and crime,” said Hugh.

“May I inquire, are you married, Mr. Nelson?” said Madeline.

“Please call me Harry, and no, I am not. I was once. She was to me the most beautiful lady I ever saw and my dearest friend. She is lost forever to me, taken by illness.”

“Forgive me for having asked. I am sorry for your loss,” said Madeline.

“Thank you, but I am dealing with it as best as I can. That is why I find myself here sometimes. I cannot sleep, and it is a distraction from my grief and this gnawing feeling of being unwell that never leaves me.”

“Maybe my uncle can help you with at least one of those problems. Here is my uncle’s address, if you would like to come by tomorrow in the afternoon, I will contact him,” said Hugh.

“All right, I will be there.”

“Is there a place to contact you, if for some reason he is not available?”

“No, that is not necessary. If he is not there, I will not be the worse for it. I think I will be going on. Thank you for the supper and the company.”

Harry left, swaying a little as he walked.

“He is a sad sight,” said Hugh. “I’m sure my uncle will see him when I tell him of his troubles.”

“He seems such a hapless fellow.”

“The loss of his wife, his health, and his farm being in jeopardy must be a heavy toll.”

“The burdens we all must carry can make any happy times we experience all the more precious.”

“Do you still wish to go to the Britannia?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all—when I have the pleasure of your company, even this place seems a little better.”

She smiled at him, feeling a bit of joy at his sweet words.

The Britannia was somewhat better than Princess Alice but still had the same clientele. They seated themselves at the far end of the bar, as customers occupied almost every seat. They had to squeeze two chairs in to be able to sit next to one another. The air was thick with smog and odors, as usual, and she had to cover her mouth and cough.

“It is a wonder anyone does not live too long, or would even want to if this is what life is,” said Madeline.

“What does this Mr. Fielding look like?”

“Once you seen him, you will remember him after that. The unfortunate man 's face showed signs it had been burned, and scars remained. His right eye droops and his left arm also is afflicted. He is bitter but open about it. He throws his words, like darts flying freely, from his mouth.”

“What happened to him?”

“I believe the accident occurred in the war. That’s what I heard from the local women, but not from him directly.”

“Is that him over there?”

Mr. Fielding was walking in, a grim look on his face as always. He moved to take one of the last seats available. He sat just two seats down from where they were.

“Mr. Fielding?” said Madeline.

“Who’s asking?” said Bob Fielding.

“Mrs. Donovan, I had met you once before.”

“I remember you now. The nosey one, putting her business into others, and I see you’re up to it again.”

“It’s everyone’s business—looking for the person who is terrorizing this area.”

“It’s the business of the Yard, and as far as I can see, no one else’s including yours.”

“I don’t share your opinion, Mr. Fielding, but I respect it.”

“The first level headed thing you’ve said.”

“Mrs. Donovan told me you have war wounds,” said Hugh.

“Now, how would she know about that? What can I say about it, I’m just one of a thousand poor devils whose life will never be the same.”

“War is hell and takes from us so much and from some…everything,” said Hugh.

Mr. Fielding seemed to relax when talking to Hugh, and after Hugh had bought him several drinks, he began to talk.

“Them were dark days after the war. I come home to find me wife dead, along with the baby she were carrying. She would’ve been the only one to love me being she knew me before the accident. I’m a fisherman now, but once I had a trade working in gentlemen’s shop, but no longer with this face. The women laugh at me—even the low beings—the whore’s of Whitechapel screw their faces up when theys look at me. It’s hard for me not to hate ‘em all.”

During their conversation, a raven haired lady, with reddish streaks cascading throughout her hair, stopped to make a bargain with Bob. He pushed her away so roughly that Hugh had to catch her by the hand to steady her.

“Mr. Fielding…was that necessary?” asked Hugh.

“It were to me. I see you judge me harshly, but walk in my shoes one day, and I’d like to see how you’d see the world. It ain’t a nice place. You know, I seen you down here the other day, dressed all up strangely. Yous all alone too. It struck me as might peculiar.”

He was directing the last words at Madeline, and she sat up as if a bee had stung her.

“You must be mistaken, Mr. Fielding,” is all she said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Mr. Fielding, let me get you another drink,” said Hugh distracting him from further conversation with her. She was relieved and thought again how observant he was for such a man that appeared to live with hate being a part of his every breath. She thought he wouldn’t notice anything or anyone, but he continued to surprise her.