Page 58 of Secrets in the Dark
“So, you’re FBI!” Reginald said. “Cool. Even if it’s not quite as cool as something British.”
That allowed them all a smile and seemed to relax Jessica. Mason and Della stepped out with her and waited; Joshua and Reginald came around another door and once Jessica was with Joshua, heading for his car, they waved to Reginald and started back across the street.
“You don’t think it’s Reginald, do you?” Mason asked.
“I didn’t get any...indication,” Della said.
“I wonder if we will.”
“I didn’t see him overly charming with any of the women in there,” Della said. “I don’t think that... Mason, I think that he prowls the streets at night and works by day. Maybe just sometimes. He might be living on a stolen income and supplementing it...but, I’m willing to bet that he is out here most nights, watching. Watching where people go when they leave the pubs. Watching what women just may be alone. Oh! I think Edmund should hold a press conference tomorrow.”
“And warn women to be extremely careful with their drinks?” Mason asked.
“You do read my mind.”
“We should have done it already. Between the messages to the media, what happened... I guess they were hoping to avoid a panic, but since the Jack the Ripper case is probably the most famous unsolved murder mystery across the globe, I think a press conference could contain panic rather than cause it.”
“We’ll get our charming François Bisset on it. As our Interpol liaison, he’s probably best suited to be diplomatic and political in every way necessary.”
“That’s a plan,” Della agreed. “Mason!” she said, setting a hand on his arm and stopping him. “There, across the street. Abigail is there, waving at us.”
“She must know something,” Mason said. “Come on.”
They hurried across the street to greet Abigail.
“I was hoping to see you,” she said. “He was here—he was walking around St. Botolph’s tonight! Oh, he was in one of his disguises. I don’t know much about theatrical things, but...his nose was quite different. He had a well-trimmed beard and a mustache. He appeared to be young and he was blending right in with a group. I tried to follow them, but in the end, they all hopped into cars and I didn’t see if he got into one of them, or...or if he disappeared into the crowd again. It wasn’t quite closing time—I don’t know if he’s on the streets now, hunting!”
“Thank you, Abigail! Where were you—”
“When they got into the cars? By Whitechapel Road.”
“Della! Mason!”
They heard their names shouted and turned around. Edmund Taylor was hurrying their way, Sean keeping pace with him.
“Anything?” Mason asked, swinging around to meet them.
Abigail stood silent, not wanting to cause Della or Mason any difficulty.
“No, we didn’t see anything. We heard people talking about what was going on, heard women telling men that they were together and would be staying together... Nice to see that people seem to take this seriously and want to be cautious. What about you?”
“We were introduced to a tour guide. We believe that Jesse Miller—in disguise, of course—was on her tour about a week and a half ago,” Della told him.
“So he was checking out all the sites, determining just where he could and couldn’t leave a body himself,” Sean said bitterly. “Well, we have men and women patrolling the streets, watching for anything, but...”
“We were going to see what was going on around Whitechapel Road,” Mason said.
“Any reason?”
“We were casually asking a few people if they had seen anything strange on the street,” Mason lied. “A slightly older man was hanging with college kids, and a lady thought it might be suspicious.”
“Aye, then, why not try Whitechapel Road?” Sean asked. “Though we should divide and conquer.”
“We’ll do a bit of patrolling and head back here,” Mason said. “I don’t believe that he is going to strike tonight. I believe he’s doing some stalking, finding out who might be alone when they head out of the pubs at night.”
“We’ll take the church. Meet you back at the house.”
“Sounds good. Della, you ready for a walk?”
