“All the unknowing is driving me mad.” Now I understood how Uncle felt while waiting for Thomas to come back with news that time several weeks prior. If curiosity plagued him the way it did me, it was a terrible affliction to suffer from.
I shoved myself off the ottoman and paced around the laboratory. The maids had done an excellent job putting it back together. One would never know Scotland Yard had nearly ripped it apart in their mad search of Uncle’s belongings.
I walked over to the specimen jars, looking, but not really seeing objects the murky liquid contained. There was no quieting my mind.
“How had Father managed to throw us so easily from his trail?” I asked. “We were so careful, falling a safe distance behind his carriage, moving from one darkened alley to the next until he arrived home.”
Once we hit my street we waited a few breaths before following. We’d just managed to see Father slinking into the house before the lights dimmed.
To be sure he was in for the night, we’d stood guard until three o’clock in the morning. No other murder had taken place that late, so we foolishly assumed it was safe to leave. How very wrong we were. The first rule in tracking a madman should be to never believe their moves were predictable. It was a hard lesson to learn, with astronomically devastating consequences.
I’d never felt like more of a failure in all my life.
“Do you think all that pacing will help the situation out? You’re distracting me from my work, Wadsworth.”
I threw my hands in the air, making a disgusted sound in the back of my throat before walking to the other side of the room. “Must you be so obsessively annoying at all times? I do not criticize you when you walk about in circles, deducing preposterous things.”
“When I pace, it actually results in something clever. You’re just kicking up dust and the scent of formalin and it’s ruining my tea,” he teased. Taking in my sour expression, he softened. “There’s nothing to be done until Dr. Wadsworth arrives. You might as well eat something.”
I tossed him a disgusted look and kept pacing.
He slathered a scone with jam and held it up. “I’ve a feeling you won’t be very hungry later. Especially if they bring her bits and pieces here for further analysis.”
I slowly turned around, noticing he was suddenly standing a bit too close. He didn’t bother stepping back, almost challenging me to stay near him, to not care about propriety during the daylight hours, either.
My heart furiously banged in my chest when I realized I didn’t want to move away from him. I wanted to be even closer. I wanted to stand on my tiptoes and press my lips against his again until I forgot about Jack the Ripper and all the gore.
“You look quite lovely today, Audrey Rose.” He stepped forward, staring down at me, and I fought to keep my eyes from fluttering shut. Thomas drew closer until I was convinced my blood would explode from my body like fireworks splattering across the night sky. “Perhaps you should comment on the excellent cut of my suit. I look rather handsome today as well. Don’t you think?”
“If you’re not careful,” I said, brushing imaginary wrinkles off the front of my riding habit and breeches, hoping the flush in my cheeks would come across as anger and not embarrassment, “you’ll be the one dragged here in bits and pieces.”
Thomas tilted my chin up with a finger, his intent gaze setting my skin aflame. “I do love it when you speak so maliciously, Wadsworth. Gives my heart a bit of a rush.”
Before I could respond, the door of the laboratory slammed open and Uncle rushed in, his overcoat stained dark crimson all over its front and sleeves.
Every other thought leapt from my brain.
After all the postmortems and murder scenes he’d attended, he’d never come home so bloodied before. Uncle’s eyes were unfocused, his spectacles askew on his face, as he tossed his journal down and took over my pacing. Thomas and I exchanged worried glances but didn’t dare speak while Uncle murmured to himself.
“He couldn’t have done it. It’s too much for him to do. None of the other bodies had the skin removed. And the thighs… why cut the flesh from the thighs like that? Surely they weren’t needed for any transplants.”
I was fighting down nausea growing inside me. Uncle flipped through the pages of his journal, stopping on pictures he’d drawn of the murder scene.
A minute later a team of four men ambled down the stairs, carrying a body in a shroud. They deposited the corpse on the table, then quickly exited the way they’d come. The whole lot of them looked as if they’d just returned from a holiday in Hell. I’d never seen such unadulterated fear on anyone’s face before.
Uncle, still muttering to himself, quickly lifted the cloth, revealing what was left of the victim without any warning.
It was as if time halted in its pursuit of racing around the track of the clock. I didn’t want to look but couldn’t prevent myself from slowly peering over his shoulder.
I had no one to blame but myself as I ran from the room, searching for a washbasin to vomit into.
I slowly made my way back down to the laboratory, my knees quaking from anticipating the carnage I’d be facing.
I’d never witnessed such sick barbarity inflicted on a person before. The body was barely recognizable as human. If an animal had torn her apart it would’ve been more pleasant to gaze upon. And less cruel. I could not fathom what kind of terror she must have experienced prior to passing on. Death would have been her welcome friend.
I was glad I hadn’t accompanied Uncle to the scene; this was quite enough to deal with. Reaching the end of the narrow staircase, I steadied myself before turning the knob and entering the twisted nightmare once again. I’d do this for all the women who’d been brutalized, I reminded myself.
My attention skimmed over the corpse before sliding on to Thomas, who appeared only slightly more affected than usual, scribbling notes and practically getting nose-deep in the exposed cavity as if it were a Christmas feast to be savored. He cringed every once in a while but quickly schooled himself into neutrality.
Attuned to my presence, he looked up. “Are you all right?”
Uncle lifted his gaze from the body, waving an impatient hand for me to come assist them. “Of course she is. Hurry, Audrey Rose. We haven’t got the luxury of pondering life all day. For some god-awful reason Superintendent Blackburn wants the body back in two hours. There’s much to do. Now, hand me the toothed forceps.”
Why indeed was the superintendent in such a rush? I tied an apron around my waist, then quickly sprinkled sawdust across the floor, following my postmortem preparations. I doubted we needed the sawdust, as the body appeared completely drained of blood, but proceeding as usual helped my mental state clear.
I grabbed the tray of postmortem tools, handing the forceps to Uncle. I wrapped my emotions together, not allowing a single thread to unwind.
It was time to act like a scientist.
I watched Uncle peel back the skin flap on her thigh, seeing nothing but an anatomical diagram needing to be studied. We’d done the same thing to frog specimens over the summer. This was no different.
“The superficial layers of the skin and fascia have been removed,” Uncle clinically stated. Thomas rapidly transcribed each of his words onto a medical sheet, his pen hungrily lapping up the ink and going back for more. “The breasts have been excised and were found in various positions. One was located under her head, the other was found beneath her right foot.”