Stalking Jack: The Hunt Begins... (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 1) (6 page)

It would be wonderful to find your Polly, and perhaps we could all look together for your new residence,” said Madeline.

“I think it wise not to include Sophie and the other girls. I don’t want them to know about our Polly and see the places she frequents. I mean, I guess they know, but it is all hearsay at this point. If we find her in dire circumstances, for her sake, I am certain she will want as few people to know of it as possible,” said Helen.

“It is good that you have a veiled hat, you don’t want the likes of those people looking directly in your eye,” said Helen.

“It is truly that bad?” said Madeline.

“You’re about to find out. It’s only a short distance from here before we get into the gritty of it. We’ll cross over Mumford onto Feldgate St., and from there, it will take us directly onto Whitechapel High Street. We may as well start there as any place. People will notice us, and perhaps heads will turn when we enter into the pubs, but it is not propriety I care about right now, but you Madeline. Are you sure you wish to do this?” asked Helen.

“I am certain. We must find Polly.  Do you have a photograph of her?”

“I do, but I don’t know if it will be of much use. It was taken a few years back when she was clear-eyed and not yet spoiled. The last time I saw her, she did not resemble that fresh-faced girl anymore, but I will bring it,” said Anna.

“Take heart, my friends. We must find her, especially now that you have the good news of your inheritance and your plan to share it with her. Shall we go?” asked Madeline.

They began their walk; Madeline thinking she had mentally prepared herself for what she was about to see, but the rawness of the sight and the human despair on display was so profound, she thought it would be impossible for anyone not to be thoroughly shocked by it. It appeared as if this confined area had developed a permanent affliction that had permeated into the very walls, cracking and crumbling like the patrons.

She felt comforted now that she had brought her weapons, feeling she was going into a jungle of sorts with wild animals. Anna grabbed her hand and squeezed it and said, “My poor Polly, why didn’t I try sooner. This can’t have been her life.”

They pushed through the crowd, invisible they all were to one another. A group of younger girls, grouped together on a step of a boarded up building, sat chatting and smoking.

“Ladies, if I could trouble you for a moment. We are looking for our niece and she is; we believe, at one of the pubs. Could you set us in the direction of one of the pubs that you might frequent?”

“We like the Ten Bells and the Horn of Plenty. They’re both down on Commercial Street. Be careful of the pickpockets down there. They’re a desperate bunch that gather round—do anything for a drink. What’s her name, your niece?” said a slender girl with pouty red painted lips, paper white skin, and eyes too old and sullen for her young body.

“Polly, Polly Nichols,” said Anna.

“No, don’t know her, but sometimes the ladies don’t go by their given names, and they makes up a name that suits ‘em.”

“Thank you for your help,” said Madeline and they moved along down the crowded street.

It wasn’t difficult after that to find the Horn of Plenty, even in this snarled mess you could see a flow of patrons moving in the direction of the pubs. The lady they had questioned had said there were several pubs within a short distance from each other. As a marketing strategy, this made sense.  A customer could go from pub to pub within a few minutes’ walk, easily staggering into other establishments just yards away.

“Ladies—are you ready?” asked Madeline.

They half smiled at each other at the discomfort of their mission but were strident in their dedication to fulfilling it. As they walked in, it was obvious to all present they did not look like the usual patrons, but no one paid any mind to them, and they moved freely to a space at the long wooden bar.

“What can I get you ladies?” asked the unshaven bartender with reddish eyes and long jowls.

“I’d like a lovely glass of absinthe please, and the same for my friends.”

“That’d be fine, Miss, iffen we had such things, but we only have hard liquor here, none of that fancy-pants Parisian stuff.”

“Oh…well then…a bourbon and soda please.”

Anna and Helen agreed also to sip on bourbon so they might not be so conspicuous.

“If I may ask, Miss, what brings you to this establishment? If you don’t mind me saying, yous not the type of girl I usually see here.”

“Sir, we are here in a quest of our own. We have some news for our niece of some importance, and we heard she might frequent the Ten Bells. Her name is Polly Nichols.”

“Polly you say her name is. She’s a jolly sort, if I know the lass you’re speaking of. She does come in here, but not during the day. Sometimes ‘round the midnight hour, if I’m on duty, I see her. I heared her say sometimes she goes to the Ten Bells in the day cuz she tells me, '“Joe, don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I likes it better than here.”’

“I hope you’re right, and it is her. We have a place to start now. Thank you for your help,” said Helen.

They left, beginning the short walk to the Ten Bells.

“I feel my heart racing. I have not been down these roads in many years, not since James passed away. We would go to the pub sometimes on a Saturday. It may not have been glamorous, but it was not like this, not fit for anyone,” said Anna.

“These are hard times, in Chicago, too, but I have not seen streets such as these that exist there. It will not be an easy task to find her,” said Madeline.

As they wandered down Commercial Street, they asked as many people as would listen to them about Polly. The weathered picture of her probably did not resemble her anymore, but they still produced it in the hope that someone might recognize her. Most people did not seem interested in their plight and answered quickly “no”.

When they entered Ten Bells, it was a little cleaner and had some semblance of order, even a few interesting pictures hung on the walls.

“A bourbon and soda please and…I have a picture of a young lady. She is my friend’s niece, and I am trying to locate her,” said Madeline.

“She in some trouble, is she?” said a younger, handsome man, dressed well with a rugged, muscular physique.

“No—not at all—we have some good news for her and, we are hoping to find her soon.”

“As you might expect, there are a hundred girls that come in here that could fit that description. I don’t remember all their names, but I’ll keep a look out for her if you want to leave your contact information.”

Madeline hesitated, then thought that he looked like a fine young man, and she would have to       trust him. She might have to trust many people if they were going to have a chance at finding Polly.

“My name is Madeline,” she said as she scrawled her contact at the Hotel George.

“I’m Patrick, Patrick Rooney,” he said.

“Thank you for agreeing to look for her. I know it’s an imposition, but we feel an urgent need to find her, especially with this murderer in the area. I thought I would see that the people would be frightened by the news of Jack, but they seem to exhibit no fear of him.”

“Mum, the people that come here, they have no hope. Their life scares them more than their death.”

“What an awful thought, but I see the look on their faces as if they are all wandering in a desert with no purpose.”

“I wouldn’t like to be a woman in these parts right now. I promise you, I will try to help you.”

“Madeline, I think we are ready to return. We made a good start. If you decide to join us, we will go again tomorrow,” said Anna.

“I agree, but I don’t think there is any time to waste. We should go back at midnight to the Ten Bells. Phillip lives on Stoney Lane. Is that anywhere near here?”

“Yes, it is near Petticoat Market, but what are your thoughts?”

“Perhaps if I can locate Phillip, he or his cousin Hugh can escort us here tonight?”

“Phillip is a dear one. He probably would do it, but do you think we should burden him with such a personal matter?”

“Anna, he is to be trusted. I can tell you that with all conscience. I think it is worth a try to ask him. I will take a Hansom and return with my answer. If he agrees, then we will meet at your residence around eleven or thereabouts.”

It proved only to be a ten-minute carriage ride until she was at Phillip’s building. He lived on the first floor of a brick flat that was home to twenty or so residents and their individual rooms. Their place was large with two bedrooms and a sitting room, a small kitchen and bath.

“Mrs. Donovan, come in. I had hoped you would visit, but weren’t certain you would want to come to this part of our city,” said Phillip.

He looked even younger in his dark blue sweater and casual pants, but his warm smile was inviting as always.

“Phillip, I’ve come with a request, and it is an urgent one. Anna and Helen’s niece, Polly, has the unfortunate circumstance to be about in Whitechapel making her way in the world by not the most gracious of means. They are worried to the bone about her now that
the Ripper
has chosen the same location to do these unspeakable deeds,” said Madeline.

“What is it, Mrs. Donovan, I will certainly give my help if I am able.”

“We have been told that she frequents the Ten Bells later in the evening, somewhere around the midnight hour. At least, we think it’s her. The barkeep there gave us the only positive information we received, and we searched all day for her in and around Commercial Street. We’d like to go there, but would not consider it without a male escort, and we hoped your or perhaps your cousin, Hugh, could accompany us there.”

“That is an unexpected request. I don’t even like to go there myself. I tell my chums I’m not interested if they venture there, but I won’t disappoint you. Hugh should be returning within the hour; I will also enlist his help. I am not sure what he will think of it, but I will ask. I am just a young male, Mrs. Donovan, not much of a figure to scare the likes of someone like that or any other mugger.”

“There is safety also in the numbers we will go in. There will be at least four of us. I think most predators prefer their victims to be influenced by some intoxication and look for them to be alone.”

“If I may have the address then, I will be on your doorstep promptly at eleven tonight.”

“Fine, fine—it is a great relief to have your company, for I think I would have attempted it even without your help.”

“Oh, no, Mum, don’t ever do a thing like that. I know, Hugh, he’s pragmatic and sober. He would never leave a lady without aid in a situation like this. Please assure me you will ask his help.”

“If he is as personable as you say, Phillip, and if he is anything like you, I should do so without hesitation. Thank you, and I will see you shortly.”

When she returned to the Hotel George, she was physically drained, but mentally she was stirred and even though she attempted a quick nap, she could not rest. Her thoughts kept swirling around Mary Ann and all the other vulnerable ladies who would find themselves each night at the mercy of this dog who was terrorizing Whitechapel and all of London.

Chapter Four

Into the Night

August 18, 1888

I have seen the squalor of Whitechapel. It is far worse than I could have imagined. The stench from gas, rotting corpses of rats and other diseased animals bites the nostrils and makes one wish to run from the area. The hopeless look on the faces of those I have seen there is distressing, and one cannot help but think about their forlorn eyes. The grieving of my fellow humans brings me even further sadness, but also a purpose that if I cannot alleviate my grief, perhaps I may still be of some use on this earth and help someone else. I still have the hope of finding Polly, only because it does appear it might be a finite search. There are only six pubs congregated together within a short distance and most of the illegal activities take place either in or around these establishments. The ladies, Phillip, and I will seek Polly out in the Ten Bells tonight around the midnight hour. We must find her.

She stopped, and took a drink from her faithful flask of bourbon that stayed on her bedside table along with her picture. They now had become her twin dominion of sanctuary.

“My Darlings, if you could see me, you would be shocked. Once so contented to be the magistrate of a small space and only living for my dear family, now here I am across the ocean with new friends that I am willing to sacrifice everything for. But then I am already forsaken, so it does not matter. Will you watch over me, my dears?” she said as she kissed their picture before leaving her room.

Looking at the large ornate clock above the stairway, she noted it was time to order her carriage.

“Clinton, would you be so kind as to order me a carriage?  I will be off to Whitechapel again.”

“Mum, you are a brave one, and you seem to take it in stride when you’ve only just arrived.”

“Brave―no, I am not brave. Those people who live in Whitechapel and try to make some kind of a life―they are the brave ones. I am perhaps reckless, but it is for good reason. Clinton, I will leave the address that I am to be taken to, just…well…just in the event that anything untoward should happen that you may notify my father.”

“Please, Mum, don’t even speak of it. If anyone should call for you, should I forward the information to them?”

“I don’t believe anyone will try to contact me, but in the event one of my friends should call, yes, please give them the address.”

“Very good, Mum, I will await your return. I am on duty until three and hope to escort you to your room upon your arrival back to the George.”

“Thank you, Clinton that is a comfort.”

The driver had a disapproving frown upon his face to once again be taking her to Whitechapel at such a late hour; she shivered a little as she settled in for the ride. She gathered her shawl around her for the night air was clammy with cold mist. Londoner’s gave these polluted, smog filled nights “pea-soupers”, and she thought it an appropriate name.

Upon arriving at their home, Anna and Helen were ready and waiting for her.

“My dear, would you like some tea before we get started?” asked Anna.

“Perhaps an absinthe would be lovely to partake of while we wait for Phillip.”

“I don’t know if we have anything so nice as that, but I am sure we have some bourbon. Would bourbon and tea do? We also have some blackberry wine if you would like to try some warmed. It is quite soothing; our mother would always give us a glass of it when we were not feeling well.”

“That sounds fine. I’ve never had blackberry wine, and I’ve never had any wine warmed, but I would like to try it, thank you.”

“We can’t thank you enough for helping us,” said Helen as she gave Madeline a quick hug.

She had just begun sipping her wine, when Phillip arrived, accompanied by a trim, tall man, perhaps almost six foot, with a bowler hat and black pin-striped suit. His perfectly groomed dark, brown hair completed his ultra-conservative look.

“Mrs. Donovan, Anna, Helen; this is my cousin, Hugh Scott.”

“Mr. Scott, welcome and thank you for joining us. We are pleased that you have come to our aid,” said Anna.

“Mum, it is my pleasure. Phillip has explained to me your plight, and how could any gentleman refuse such a request,” said Hugh.

He turned to Madeline and slightly nodding his head said, “Madam, good evening.”
“We are off then to the pub; I do feel secure with both of you gentlemen accompanying us,” said Madeline.

Madeline slipped her arm into Phillip’s as they walked, and she told them of their day of sleuthing. Hugh was kind enough to escort both Anna and Helen. Now, she felt they were getting somewhere; this was the heart of it. They were in the right place and at an hour when the business of vice flourished.

The Ten Bells looked nothing like it did in the afternoon. Almost a crushing mass of people were pushed up against the bar, with every chair and table taken and people standing in the aisles. Although there was the clink of glasses in toasting and card playing, what she noticed most were the quick slipping of coins and paper money into pockets in exchange for small packages. She assumed these were a form of illegal drug, most likely opium. It was easy to tell which woman was soliciting trade; it was harder to distinguish who wasn’t.

They each began the task of questioning the inhabitants of the pub about Polly. Most brushed their questions aside with a gesture that said, “Mind your own business or leave me alone”. Even with the Ripper at large, the alcohol soothed everyone into a careless state.

One lady of the evening, adorned with large, scarlet red feathers around her face and hair said she might have seen her, “It just might be her, a girl they call “Penny” not Polly. I’m not sure, but a girl that looks a little like this picture calls herself that. She usually partners up with a young girl named Sally, and they find their men about this place. She was ‘round here about an hour ago.”

“Thank you—that is wonderful news. How are you fairing with the news of Jack?” Madeline asked the lady.

“It’s a fright, I tell you, but I’m too old for him to bother me. He’s just one of the things that will kill you in Whitechapel, just one.”

“Our regards, Madame,” Madeline said as they bid her good-night.

“This is good. We may have a possible sighting. If we follow some of the ladies and see where they go for their trysts, maybe we could spot her,” said Madeline.

“I have some hope now that maybe there is a chance we can find her,” said Helen.

“I’ll lead the way, I know the streets,” said Phillip.

This time, she took Hugh’s arm and began a conversation “Are you familiar with these streets also, Mr. Scott?”

“Please call me Hugh. Somewhat—I’ve had clients in the general vicinity and in my younger years I came to these pubs, but no longer. I admire you for what you’re doing, and I do hope the outcome will be as you desire, but I have my doubts. These are dark times in London.”

“Yes, it is evident, even to one as me who has just arrived. I would prefer to call you Hugh, and please call me Madeline. It seems silly to stand on propriety under these circumstances,” she said with a slight smile.

As they walked down one of the many side streets near Ten Bells, the darkness was pervasive, and she was getting a clearer picture of how Jack escaped detection. It wasn’t just dark; it was clouded with fog and pedestrians who had their long coats turned up on their face. She assumed some did so because of the cold, and others because they did not want anyone to recognize her traversing in this area. If Jack had just walked by, she would not be able to tell him from any other man. Other than height and weight, it was a sea of endless coats and turned down brims.

They walked as a group, letting Anna and Helen lead the way, as they would be the ones to recognize their niece. The others attempted to ask questions but found the intimacy of the couples in the dark did not avail them to approach.

In another time, in another place, she would have looked away and blushed with cherry redness, but this was different, this was not a time to pretend to be a child with no awareness of the world and how it behaved.

They concluded, as there were few options that they would call her name into the street to see if anyone turned or responded. They didn’t yell it but just called out as a friend would do if seeking another.

“Penny” and "Polly" were called out into the wind. After proceeding through a half dozen or so side streets, a young, blonde girl, hair falling into her eyes turned and said, “Penny…are you looking for Penny Nichols?”

“Polly Nichols—but we have learned that she might go by the name of Penny, also,” said Madeline.

“Have you seen our Polly?” asked Anna with excitement in her voice, rising in tone and perhaps hope.

“She’s a funny one; she says, '“You can call me Penny Nichols, but pay me in pounds.”’ We would always laugh when she said it. I seen her go with a boy named Williams. He likes her and comes around a couple times a week. I think she went back to one of the pubs with him.”

The hour was late, it was nearly two, and they believed they would not have any success pursuing her anymore.

“Miss, we are her family and have important good news for her. I have written her family’s address on this paper. We would be very grateful if you were to give her this message, and there’s something in it for you. If we hear from Polly, we will give you a five-pound note as a thank you for your assistance.”

“A five-pound note you say?  Is you rich, Miss?”  Her words drawn out due to her intoxication.

“No, but it is important we find her, and it does sound as if it might be her.”

“I can sure use the money, Miss. I wouldn’t have to work out here for many a night.”

“I wish you well. I truly do and hope life will get easier for you.”

As they gathered together for their return to Anna’s house, Hugh said, “Madeline, I hope I will see you again under more pleasant circumstances. Perhaps sometime we might meet for lunch.”

“Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps after we find Polly, we can discuss that again. It was an imposition to ask this of you, and Phillip, and I will not forget that.”

When they arrived at Anna and Helen’s home, they said their goodbyes and agreed she would meet them back again at noon.