Page 33 of Secrets in the Dark
“If you must.”
Mason laughed softly. “Thanks! None of the others are even down yet,” he reminded her.
“Right. But I’m going to go and get through to Jackson or Angela and find out how Maisie is doing on her sketches of the many appearances our suspect may have, from dark to light and old to young, hairy and bald, and so on!” she told him.
“I’m right with you,” he assured her, rinsing his cereal bowl and beating her out of the kitchen.
Della booted up her computer and checked for messages from Maisie. She had a quick note explaining that the first of many were through and she downloaded and quickly studied the images with Mason standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. He came around and joined her on the sofa in the parlor and they studied the images together.
“Maisie is so incredibly talented,” he murmured.
“There are three exceptional artists working at headquarters,” she told him. “But I admit, Maisie is my favorite.”
They sat in silence. A minute later, Edmund came down from his bedroom upstairs, with Sean, François and Jeanne close behind him. They headed first for coffee, and then joined Della and Mason in the parlor.
“We’ve all received these images, and Jackson is going to arrange for them to be sent to law enforcement all over the British Isles,” Mason told them. “Because if this killer is taking all his cues from Stephan Dante, he will change his appearance.”
“Especially if he’s the man the two of you and I already met,” Edmund said, nodding. By then, rather than drawing them up on their own devices, the three men were standing behind Della and Mason, all studying the sketches.
“He was light and all-American or Northern European the last time we saw him. Do you really think that he could appear to be Middle Eastern or—” François began.
“Yes,” Mason said flatly. “He can look like anything.”
“How the hell do we begin to find him?” Edmund asked.
“If he’s following Dante, he’ll work on his face and hair. Dante got his moves from the movies. He won’t change his weight or his height. We need to be ready for anything. But we also had an idea to go back, to look at everyone and anyone who was interviewed when the so-called vampire victims were discovered.”
Edmund nodded. “Most of the information can be sent securely to our stations here, but Sean and I can go to headquarters and find anything in the evidence room that might be of some assistance.” He paused, shaking his head. “I was lead on the cases. And I was entirely frustrated. Then, of course, we learned that Stephan Dante had moved on to Norway, and by the signature, of course, we assumed that our killer had moved on, and that the international task force was going to be the way to find justice for the victims.”
“We will find justice—for all of them,” Mason promised.
“Trust me, we’ve all worked incredibly frustrating cases, and sometimes, fresh eyes on a situation may help with something you’ve been worrying in your mind and just straighten out the thread.”
“I’m fresh eyes on this,” Sean said. “Except for—”
“The recent victim. We’re all fresh on the recent victim,” Jeanne said.
“I hope they won’t call you back,” Sean said quietly. “And, sorry, mates—there was an extra room so I decided that while my flat is near, I should be here with you.”
“Perfect!” Della assured him.
“This is our assignment,” Della assured him. “And you don’t know our bosses. We will be here, and on this case until we find the killer—or, should I say, all the killers that Dante trained.” She looked at Mason, an idea having come to mind as they’d spoken. “Edmund, perhaps you and Sean could sign out the evidence boxes. I’d like to take a walk around Whitechapel and the area with Mason and—”
“I’m going to go back and see the medical examiner,” Jeanne told them. “They were checking stomach contents on our victim, and if we discover exactly where she’d been before...before her death, we can follow up.”
“I’ll work with Jeanne today,” François said. “Nothing like a trip to the morgue.”
“Then we’re decided. Let’s move,” Mason said.
It wasn’t until they were outside that he looked curiously at Della and asked her, “Okay, what are we doing? I’m assuming we’re looking for our lovely Victorian ghost to show her Maisie’s sketches of possible disguises our killer might assume.”
She nodded and smiled. “If he’s trying to play Jack the Ripper to a T, at the beginning, of course, he might be testing his disguises, walking the streets, finding out where there might be cameras, looking at the original sites and trying to keep his murders as close as possible. Then again—”
“Because a hundred-plus years does make changes on the landscape, he may be determining new areas in which he might strike,” Mason said. “Sean told me they’ve heightened police presence, but no country or city could provide an officer per city block—which is the only way there would be a guarantee that this killer wouldn’t strike somewhere unseen.” He hesitated and shrugged. “This isn’t the same area, and this killer isn’t going after the same women, though...sometimes, I don’t think that we look at the original Jack’s victims in the right way. Times were terrible back then. The area was poor—dirt poor. Some of the victims had been married, they were mothers. Bad things happen in life, and when they became addicted to alcohol, there was no Alcoholics Anonymous or addiction centers to help them—not that they could have afforded an addiction center if such places had existed. Many—of course, not all—but many women at the time resorted to prostitution because they were desperate. And because they had become alcoholics, they had to keep finding more money. Before the Ripper got to them, many were leading tragic existences. Not that it matters any less, the horror that was done to them.”
“I know,” Della murmured. “British historian Hallie Rubenhold believed the only realprostituteamong the victims was Mary Kelly and that, as you said, the others resorted to the sex trade out of desperation. I’m just glad that I didn’t live in the East End of London back in the day!”
He smiled, nodded and took her hand. “Not an easy existence. Where do you think that we might find our ghostly lady?”
