Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper 1)

“I believe we met last night,” I ventured, feeling a bit bolder. Thomas’s brows knit together and my newfound confidence plummeted. “In my uncle’s laboratory?”

Darkness shifted over his features. “Apologies, but I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to. This is the first time we’ve spoken.”

“We didn’t exactly speak—”

“It’s nice to meet you, Wadsworth. I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss in the near future. Immensely near, actually, as I’m apprenticing this evening with your uncle. Perhaps you’ll allow me the pleasure of testing out a few of my theories?”

Another crimson wave washed over my cheeks. “Your theories on what, exactly?”

“Your scandalous choice to attend this class, of course.” He grinned. “It isn’t every day you meet such an odd girl.”

The friendly warmth I’d been feeling toward him froze over like a pond during a particularly frigid winter. Especially since he appeared completely unaware of how irritating he was, smiling to himself without a care in the universe. “I do love the satisfaction of solving a puzzle and proving myself right.”

Somehow I found the strength to bite my retort back and offered a tight smile in its place. Aunt Amelia would be proud her lessons on etiquette stuck with me. “I am very much looking forward to hearing your scintillating theory on my life choices, Mr.…?”

“Gentlemen!” Uncle barked. “If you please, I’d like each of you to write down your theories on Miss Mary Ann Nichols’s murder and bring them to class tomorrow.”

Thomas gave me one last devilish grin and turned back to his notes. As I closed my journal and gathered up my things, I couldn’t help thinking he might prove an equally vexing mystery to solve.

Illustration of heart and bladder from Thomas Graham’s notebook, c. 1834

THREE

TEA AND AUTOPSIES

WADSWORTH RESIDENCE,

BELGRAVE SQUARE

31 AUGUST 1888

“Where are you running off to at this hour?”

Father stood near the grandfather clock in the foyer—his tone striking the same nervous chord as the beastly antique—while he checked his pocket watch. Only a handful of years separated Uncle and Father, and up until recently they could have passed for twins. A muscle in his square jaw twitched. Worse questions were coming. The urge to flee back up the grand staircase was suddenly overwhelming.

“I-I promised Uncle Jonathan I’d join him for tea.” I watched him inhale a sharp breath and added quietly, “Turning down his invitation would’ve been rude.”

Before he offered any more thoughts on the matter, the parlor door swung open and my brother waltzed in like a beam of sunshine set against the backdrop of a gray day. Taking quick note of the situation, he pounced.

“I must say, everyone appears so downright cheerful this afternoon, it’s rather disturbing. Give me a proper scowl, good man. Ah—” he smiled at the glare Father leveled at him— “that’s the spirit! Excellent job, Father.”

“Nathaniel,” Father warned, his glassy focus darting between us. “This matter does not concern you.”

“Are we terrified to let the girl out of the protective bubble again? Heaven forbid she catch pox and perish. Oh, wait,” Nathaniel cocked his head. “That’s happened before, hasn’t it?” He dramatically grabbed my wrist, checking for a pulse, then staggered back. “By God, Father. She’s quite alive!”

Father’s pale hand shook, and he blotted at his brow with a handkerchief, which was never a promising sign. Nathaniel usually managed to diffuse Father’s anxiety with a well-placed quip. Today wasn’t one of those days. I couldn’t help noticing extra lines around Father’s mouth, dragging his lips into a near-permanent frown. If he’d only let some of his endless worry go, it would erase a decade from his once-handsome features. Strands of gray hair were also slipping in between his ashy-blond locks more and more lately.

“I was just telling Father I’m on my way to the carriage,” I said as pleasantly as I could manage, feigning ignorance of the volatile atmosphere. “I’m meeting Uncle Jonathan.”

Nathaniel clapped his gloved hands together, a sly smile spreading across his face. He couldn’t resist assisting me with my chosen medical studies. Mostly because my modern stance—on why girls were equally capable of having a profession or apprenticeship—offered endless amusement.

My brother’s love of arguing made him an excellent barrister-in-training, but his fickle attention would lead him elsewhere soon enough. His prior whims included a few months studying medicine, then art, then a horrendous effort with a violin—which went badly for all who had the misfortune of hearing him practice his scales.

Though, as heir

to our family legacy, he needn’t learn a trade at all. It was merely something to pass idle hours and afternoons besides drinking with his pompous friends.

“Ah, that’s right. I recall Uncle saying something about tea earlier in the week. Unfortunately, I had to decline his invitation, what with my studies and all.” Adjusting his gloves and smoothing his suit, Nathaniel stepped back and grinned. “Your dress is exceptional for today’s weather and special occasion. Seventeen now, right? You’re stunning, birthday girl. Don’t you agree, Father?”