Page 70 of Secrets in the Dark
“Good,” Della told her. “Keep it that way. And thank you again. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
Sean was waiting for them when they left the trailer.
“Edmund is with the director,” he explained, “getting access to all the right people to find out if there’s a paper trail.”
“There won’t be,” Mason said. “But we have to go through all the motions.”
“Exactly. We don’t dare miss anything,” Sean said. “He suggested we head back, look at all that we do have, and...
“And wonder how the hell we’re going to find him, no matter what we think we know,” Mason said. “But he’s right. Time to regroup at the house.”
Twelve
Not even Ripper could be everywhere at once.
He had to take pleasure in the fact that there were so many places he could be and not be found or discovered as he watched.
Watching them, he perfected his plan.
He was there when they returned. And, of course, he’d be there when they headed out for the night, looking for him. He’d follow them, their stupid little group of six would split up and, naturally, he would followher.
He’d watched her laugh. And he’d seen the way that she looked at the other American, Special Agent Mason Carter. He thought he was so clever. And, of course, she thought she was so tough. But she could have all of them around her...
And still, he knew what to do now. He smiled, because the idea had come to him, and it was really so evident. All her great FBI training would mean nothing, all the muscle and brawn around her would mean nothing...
And there they were.
She was perfect. So very beautiful with her long flowing hair and bright green eyes. She kept it up often, but when she was with him, it would be down, and he would love touching it, feeling it, until the time came...
Maybe he’d keep a bit of it. Stroke it occasionally, savor and remember.
The Frenchmen walked into the house first, followed by the local copper, Inspector Detective Sean Johnstone who was laughing at something that Special Agent Della Hamilton was saying. Last in the door were Inspector Detective Edmund Taylor and Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding, Special Agent Mason Carter. Carter was fit... Jerk probably spent half his life in a gym looking at his abs. But neither height nor muscle were going to help him, because people like him never saw just how vulnerable they were. He’d be bringing his strength and his gun against brilliance...just like bringing a knife to a gunfight, as the Americans liked to say. Like the old American West. Gunfight at the OK Corral. But there would be no gunfight; it would be all over so quickly and they’d never know what hit them. Yes, there would be time for them to see him with their dying eyes...
See him. And know what he was going to do to her. Maybe he’d even time it so that they might watch for a while.
He felt good. In fact, he felt incredible. Lesser men would wonder how one man might get to a woman surrounded by five trained and armed members of law enforcement.
Thankfully, he wasn’t a lesser man.
His own genius made him gleeful. He’d be ready for a fine pint tonight! And he would be so far superior to the Ripper of yore. In his mind, the fool had carried out iconic murders—and then betrayed himself when there had been no need, when life should have been the fullest.
Ripper would follow the brilliance that had come before, but then rise above where the former had been so sadly lacking.
As he stood there, he slid deeper against the doorway where he’d appeared to lounge, distractedly playing with his phone.
The door was about to open. Food delivery was arriving.
He smiled and walked away. It would be a while before they left again.
And he would be ready tonight, and in the delicious nights to come, planned so perfectly in every detail.
Sean had his nose in his computer from the moment they entered the house. He had barely acknowledged the question Edmund had voiced to him about food. He’d waved a hand and said that he’d be happy with whatever.
Mason pulled up the chair next to him at the dining room table.
“Just what are you studying so intensely?”
Sean looked up at him. “Maybe nothing. But I had some time with Stacey at the movie set and she was telling me the same things she told you. I don’t know why, but I’m curious as to our killer’s thoughts on the identity of Jack the Ripper, so I was looking them up myself. I have to say that I agree with him on one thing—I really do not see a royal connection. Yes, Prince Albert Edward was a bit of a disgrace to his family. Victorian mores were strict.” He looked at Mason. “I’m not sure how this can help, but since Stacey mentioned it was something Jesse Miller—as whoever he was at the movies—was talking about the suspects.”
