“The Karstphanomen, Walter, is not a club. It’s a society. And it’s a great thing we’re undertaking here. We are the ones who set those prisoners free. We caused the train wreck. We had a man inside Bridewell, and he made sure the right prisoners escaped.”
“If that’s true… Adrian, if what you say is true, then you set murderers free in this city. In my city. My wife and unborn son may be in danger because of you.”
“It went wrong. There were supposed to be men at the gate to gather the prisoners up as they came through. They never would have made it beyond the main gate. We had a wagon, but it broke a wheel. We arrived just minutes too late.”
Realization washed over Day and he turned from the voice, looked at the shackles again. Candle wax had dripped down over the metal and pooled, dull pink, like blood and water.
“This place…”
“Yes,” March said. “This place is where we bring murderers, molesters, perversions of humanity. This place is the classroom where they receive instruction.”
“You’re mad.”
“No, Walter, I’m angry. Madness would be to stand by and do nothing.”
“Adrian, I… No, I understand now. It was the Ripper case. He did this to you, didn’t he? You never caught him, and the stress of it all, the pressure you must have been under to catch Jack the Ripper… I can’t imagine. But this isn’t the answer, man. Come with me. There are doctors who could—”
“There are doctors among us, Walter. Does that surprise you? The Karstphanomen has doctors, lawyers, Lords… Yes, even policemen. There’s a member of the royal family among us. We are not madmen. We are enthusiastic proponents of justice.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Very many. And, Walter, I’ve proposed you for membership.”
“Never.”
“You’re too quick to speak. Wait until you see what we’ve done.”
“I don’t want to see. I don’t want to know any of this. Adrian, if anything you’re saying is even remotely true, I’m going to have to arrest you.”
“You won’t arrest me. When you see what we do, when you see it firsthand, you’ll help me.”
“Help you to do what? Torture people?”
“They deserve it.”
“I thought you said you were teaching them something.”
“We are.”
“Are you teaching them? Or are you hurting them because you feel they deserve it?”
“Both, actually. Why can’t it be both?”
“Can you hear yourself? You’ve become a zealot.”
“Walter, you’re wrong. I didn’t fail. I caught Jack. I really did catch him.”
“You caught Jack the Ripper?”
“Lusk and Aberline and I. We caught him. Saucy Jack is down here right now. Has been for more than a year.”
“Oh my God.”
“Would you like to see him?”
“I…”
“Come with me. Just let me show you what we’ve done, and then you can arrest me if you still want to. I’ll go quietly.”
“I don’t want to see.”
“Yes, you do.”
Day took a step back. His heel hit the iron ring in the floor and it clanked against the stones. He turned and looked at the chains, at the hard-packed walls, at the dim glow of the candle. He could barely breathe. Monstrous things had happened here among the bones of untold previous generations. These men thought he could be one of them, had discussed him down here in the mud and clay. While he lay beside his wife and unborn child above them, evil men had made plans for Walter Day.
He turned back to the dark tunnel where his mentor lurked.
“Very well,” he said. His voice sounded far away to him, like someone else speaking. “Give me back my revolver. Then show me Jack the Ripper.”
36
When the Devil tipped his hat to her, Eunice Pye clapped her hands to her chest and waited for her heart to stop beating. She knew exactly what he was as soon as she saw him, and she cursed herself for staying in the window long enough that he noticed her. But the Devil kept on walking and turned the corner out of sight and her heart kept beating and she didn’t die. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Giles for watching over her. Then she rushed out of her home and across the lane without looking to see if there were carriages coming. She banged through the black iron gate and into the tiny courtyard in front of the Anderson home. She scooped up the girl who was playing there and hugged the child tight. The girl yelped and protested and squirmed, but Eunice didn’t even notice. She rang the doorbell, and when the Andersons’ housekeeper came to the door, Eunice handed the struggling child over to her.
“You keep watch over her today, Miss Bonnie,” Eunice said. “There’s evil about, and you ought to keep her safe inside.”
She didn’t wait for a response, but turned and marched back across the street. This time she remembered to watch for wagons in the lane. Of course the Andersons’ housekeeper would think Eunice was a madwoman, but that was fine with her. Whether they were worried about the Devil in the lane or worried about the madwoman in the house across the way, they were likely to make their girl stay indoors for the day, and that was all that really mattered.
Eunice didn’t go straight back to her own house, but veered to her right and went through the gate next door and crept through the garden to the front window of the Michaels’ home.
In a single morning she had seen one of the escaped prisoners whose likeness decorated the front page of the morning tabloid and then she had seen the Devil himself, and they had both come out of this house. She didn’t know whether the bald murderer of children had turned himself into the Devil or whether they were different people and the bald man was still inside somewhere, but she knew that she was not safe anywhere, not even in her own home where she could put up wards, as long as the Devil was about in the neighborhood. She felt she had to do something constructive, and she was not afraid of death as long as she knew where she was going when she died and that Giles was up there waiting for her. Good people did not hide and wait for evil to pass by. They acted.
The curtains were closed across the Michaels’ window, but there was a gap of perhaps an inch and a half where they did not quite meet in the middle. She went up on her tiptoes and held on to the bricks of the outside window ledge with her fingertips and peered inside.
The house was very dark, but when her eyes got used to the gloom she was able to see well enough. The parlor looked normal at first glance, and she was unable to see beyond it except for a wedge of the hall that she assumed led to the kitchen in back. She was certain that the Michaels’ home followed the same floor plan as her own, and so the stairway to the upper floors would be just out of sight across from the parlor, but she couldn’t see it from where she was.
Her toes started to hurt. They weren’t used to bearing all of her weight, even though she was not a large person by any stretch of the imagination. She scowled, disappointed, at the empty room beyond the window and decided there was nothing to see. She would have to go directly to the police and bring them round, rather than waiting for them to respond to her earlier correspondence. But just at the moment she began to lower herself back to the ground, something moved at the periphery of her vision and she sprang back up on her toes and focused on the corner of the room between the window and the fireplace. There near the hearth was a blind spot where she could not see, but there was a foot, or more precisely a shoe with a foot in it, and the shoe was moving. Just a little bit, but it was enough to command her attention. She pressed her cheek against the glass and followed the shoe with her eyes, up a leg, and there was a hand, but the hand was twisted at a very odd angle, and there was a bit of rope about the wrist, and that was as much as she could possibly see.