Page 52 of Secrets in the Dark
“That’s perfect,” François Bisset said. “And, as your liaison, I’ve taken on the task of knowing what’s around us and who will deliver! I suppose for Americans the standard is pizza—”
“Pizza goes around the world!” Della protested teasingly.
“If you all are up for it, there’s a pub not far from here that creates one of the finest shepherd’s pies known to man and since the pandemic, they’re excellent at providing a family style that will work beautifully for us all,” Bisset said.
“Shepherd’s pie it is!” Della said. “Of course, if all agree.”
“I was thinking of coq au vin with excellently seasoned rice and perhaps a fine salad and an aged red wine to be followed by cigars and cognac,” Jeanne LaPierre teased. “Oh, but, of course, this is England. No fine French cuisine!”
Edmund groaned loudly and they all laughed.
“That’s why it’s good to be American,” Mason said. “We have cuisine from all over the world since our people are from all over the world.”
“Wait, now, the world is moving all over, you know!” Sean protested.
“Children, keep fighting about food and I’ll call in our order,” François said, sighing.
They all laughed and Della headed into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll put the tea on. And coffee! Love tea but coffee helps keep Americans up and ticking.”
“And we have another long night ahead of us,” Mason said.
“Do you think that he’ll strike again so quickly?” Edmund asked. “If he’s really trying to follow in the Ripper’s footsteps, we have several days to go. The Ripper killed Mary Ann Nichols on August 31, 1888. Annie Chapman wasn’t killed until September 8.”
“I believe,” Mason said, “that this killer wants to follow the Ripper’s pattern. But he’s already segued in his victimology. If he finds that he might have difficulty keeping to the time pattern, he’ll change it up. But right or wrong, we all believe it’s possible that the real killer is the man we saw in Brixton—Jesse Miller. We also believe that he was seen in the City of London Cemetery—Della and I learned that because we showed the various sketches of what he might look like to a few visitors when we were there.” He looked at Della as he spoke. He couldn’t explain that they knew he’d been at the cemetery because of a very reliable witness—Abigail Scott.
They needed to find Abigail again, of course. And find out what else she may have witnessed.
Jesse Miller was out there somewhere.
“This is really ridiculous,” Edmund murmured, heading into the kitchen. The teakettle was whistling and he went about measuring tea into the teapot as he spoke before adding the water. “That man is out there. One man, brutally murdering women, and there are six of us plus all the law enforcement in the country and we haven’t been able to find him!”
“We will,” Mason said determinedly. He headed into the kitchen himself. The coffee had brewed as well and he helped himself to a cup.
“Now, what’s that?” Sean teased. “I just brewed the finest cup to be had!”
“Hey, nothing wrong with tea,” Mason assured him. “More caffeine here.”
“Per pound, tea has more caffeine,” Sean told him.
“Maybe. But you’re not drinking a pound of tea!”
François glanced at his phone.
“Food has arrived. I’ll get it—”
“Wait. I’ll go with you,” Mason said, setting his cup down.
François frowned. “You’re worried? If the killer comes to the door, we’ll drag him in!”
“The killer won’t come to the door. But if it’s gotten out in any way that the six of us are here, we still have to take care.”
François smiled and showed Mason his phone. “We’re riddled with security cameras. In fact, tonight I need you all to download the same app I have. While we sleep in shifts with extreme caution, this allows us all visual aids to anyone arriving here—or slipping around the sides and back of the place.”
There was a single man with a large delivery bag at the front.
“François, you are worth your weight in coq au vin!” Mason assured him.
Jeanne LaPierre groaned and laughed and headed with Mason to the door.
