The Whitechapel Virgin Read online

  Catherine shrugged. ‘That may be so, but I did enquire with Madame today if she would allow me to return to work with Tilly, but the air turned foul with her words as she berated me for even daring to ask such a thing.’

  Overwhelmed, Catherine began to sob and Lizzie quickly reached over and passed her a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. After a few moments she spoke softly but with a small tremor in her voice.

  ‘In truth I am becoming afraid. I am afraid that Eddie might harm Mr Cross, or that Mr Cross may harm me. I am afraid of the harsh reality that I am nothing other than an orphan and if I prove to be too troublesome, one of the women will call on the authorities and I will be sent to the workhouse. To add to that, I am afraid of this murderer and then there is Annie…’

  ‘Annie? Oh what has she done now,’ Lizzie frowned. ‘That woman is always sticking her nose into it all, I wish she’d just mind her own business.’

  ‘No!’ Catherine interceded. ‘On the contrary, I was returning from my visit to Mr Cross, it was just after midnight and she caught me rushing to my room. I was distraught and very sure that she was poised to attack me but instead, she assisted me to my bed and tended to the swelling on my cheek. I must say I became instantly confused as to whether to place any trust in her.’

  Lizzie pursed her lips suspiciously. ‘Well, I would say, don’t let a small act of generosity fool you. She’s always been wicked in her heart. Don’t forget how she framed me as a thief by planting her necklace in my room. She could do the same to you, and seeing you get thrown out of the tavern, or coming to some harm would make her gloat with happiness. I’m warning you Catherine, don’t trust her.’

  Catherine nodded just as the church bells began to chime in the distance.

  ‘Oh my goodness, its time I was getting back to my duties.’

  ‘Hang on before you go and I’ll set you off with a nice fresh loaf and some jam.’

  ‘Oh I couldn’t possibly...’ Catherine began to protest but Lizzie raised a hand in objection.

  ‘It’s on me this one and we shall say no more of it.’ She smiled. ‘But just remember what I said Catherine, confide in no-one at the lodging house and watch your back. There ain’t anyone in that place you should trust, especially not Annie.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The sleeping girl beside him stirred only mildly when he groaned and cussed loudly. Glancing at the wall he was horrified by the time stated on the clock and bolted upright, a sharp pain crushing his head.

  ‘Get up, get up,’ he hollered at the girl. ‘I am expecting company at any moment.’

  The housemaid scampered out from beneath the sheets and dived straight into her petticoats. Her two long plaits swayed freely, where they were once part of a pretty knot pinned tightly to the back of her head.

  ‘I’ll be on me way sir,’ she curtseyed to her employer and tiptoed away partially naked from the room, carrying her clothing in her hands.

  He had just enjoyed a playful morning with the common girl nestled between his bedsheets. The experience now left him feeling quite galvanised with satisfaction that his manhood had risen to the challenge, but the starving and urgent desire he possessed to expunge Catherine Bell of her virtues still remained.

  Cross sighed loudly and donned his clothes, hearing the maid quietly escape to her own quarters. He cast his eye around the room and grimaced. The problem with bedding the wench meant that she hadn’t quite achieved much of the days chores, and so his room remained scattered with smudged glasses and scattered piles of books and clothes.

  Not more than five minutes later Thomson strode into the stuffy bedroom.

  ‘Good God, you look like death. I need a stiff drink.’

  ‘This is not what you think,’ Cross replied, somewhat amused by his reaction.

  ‘I do not believe I need to think. Now where are those large decanters? You look like you could do with a strong brandy yourself. I’ll see you in the study.’

  He dressed himself and joined Thomson who was already seated near his desk pouring a beverage. Taking a seat opposite him he ran a hand through his messy hair and lifted the glass to his lips.

  Why on earth Thomson requested to meet with him so early he could not fathom, but he thought it had better be a reason worth having to cast out the warm little whore from beneath his sheets.

  ‘I simply lost track of time. I thought we were meeting later.’ Cross said, in an effort to excuse his actions.

  ‘Yes, I can see that,’ smirked Thomson with a gleam in his eye. ‘I must say, she’s not a bad looking filly for a regular housemaid. I feel rather envious, to say the least. How on earth did you persuade this one to bed you?’

  Cross lifted his chin proudly. ‘Oh, just a small dose of charm and the promise of a little extra to the monthly wage packet.’

  Thomson laughed. ‘Well I’ll be damned. I am amazed at how you manage to charm them into such obedience. And I daresay that if the girl has any degree of intelligence she’ll prefer her new duties towards scrubbing your undergarments.’

  Cross laughed loudly.

  Thomson set down his glass, leaned forward and raised both eyebrows with a look of great intrigue.

  ‘And so tell me, how is this diary of yours coming along?’

  ‘Diary?’

  ‘Oh come on man. The book, the diary the famous musings of Edward Cross. How is it coming along? I am dying to read the latest extract.’

  Thomson picked up the thick brandy bottle and poured a second glass, despite the early hour of the day.

  ‘Well it is coming along, I’d say, but...’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘It is definitely coming along. Let’s say it will be ready soon.’

  Thomson rubbed his hands together feverishly.

  ‘Well my friend, I have a proposal to make and I shall not dally about with it. It is the reason why I have been so eager to visit you this very fine morning.’

  ‘A proposal? Of which type?’ he eyed him warily. It’s not that he couldn’t trust the man, but his old friend was somewhat known for latching on to various ideas and producing nothing from them.

  ‘I had a quiet word with a very good publisher of sorts. About your diary.’

  Cross tensed his shoulders. ‘You promised to keep it quiet for now. You know that it would make a very sensitive publication.’

  ‘Yes, yes I know all that,’ Thomson waved a hand in the air dismissively. ‘Calm down, the news is extremely favourable. This particular publishing house has in the past produced similar discreet works, and they are very interested in having a look at your script. I have, of course, received a full and complete oath of confidentiality.’

  He stared hopefully at Cross who was gripping his glass tightly.

  ‘How much do they wish to see of it?’

  ‘The whole lot.’

  The whole lot?’

  ‘Yes, trust me. They know what to expect and I am confident that you will have no regret. Ah, I know what you are thinking! And I can assure you, my generosity does not come hitherto attached with any claim of reward. That is unless you would be willing to part with a percentage of the takings based on gratitude and our trusted comradeship?’

  Cross sighed and lifted his hand to his chin to stroke the small tuft of hair. ‘I must be very careful with…’ he began to say but Thomson cut him off.

  ‘Yes you must be careful, but as I stated before, complete confidentiality is their motto.’ He raised his glass. ‘And I have their word. I say we go for it. So is it truly finished?’

  ‘Yes, it is mostly finished.’

  ‘Good! I shall like to see it then.’

  ‘Not yet. I have still to edit some recent entries.’

  Thom
son rolled his eyes. ‘I shall drop by tomorrow then, surely you can have it all wrapped up by noon?’

  ‘Firstly I must replicate it and keep a copy.’

  ‘A copy? Why on earth would you want to make a damned copy?’

  Thomson stood and walked over to the window, parting the curtains slightly and narrowing his eyes to the glare which filled the room.

  ‘You could not possibly assume that I would foolishly part with an original diary do you?’ Cross stated.

  ‘My dear friend, you don’t seriously intend to keep multiple copies of something which could so easily be misconstrued, or even used against you?’

  Cross let out a laugh. ‘Well yes, I think I should make a duplicate. What if something happens to my original work, it could get lost, catch fire...’

  Thomson shook his head irritably.

  ‘Hogwash. You have to trust me. How long have we known each other? Don’t you think you are worrying needlessly here? But oh, let me see, now that you mention it, there is one little issue that might work to our disadvantage.’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘The murder.’

  Cross met his friend’s gaze with a serious expression.

  ‘The what?’

  ‘That old whore murdered a week ago at George Yard Buildings. Frightful episode, but well deserved if you ask me, now we are fully rid of the syphilis-carrying wench.’

  ‘And what has she to do with my publication?’

  ‘Oh nothing and everything,’ Thomson replied, gently running an index finger along the mantelpiece. ‘We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were the culprit now would we?’

  Cross re-filled his glass, taking a long gulp of the rust coloured liquid.

  ‘Why on earth would anyone think such a thing?’

  ‘Because my dear friend, you have quite eloquently established that you know the Whitechapel whores so very, very well. So I must ask, is that murdered wench listed within?’

  Cross cleared his throat. ‘I do not recall keeping any record of her.’

  Damn, I really must delete all references to that bitch now. Why didn’t I think of that before?

  ‘Good. It would be catastrophic if she were mentioned.’ Thomson concluded. He stiffened his shoulders, strode over to the table and placed his empty glass on the rich mahogany surface. ‘I shall return again this time tomorrow to pick it up. Oh, and do you have a handkerchief I may borrow?’

  Cross fished one from his pocket, handed it to his friend then followed him through the hallway.

  ‘No worries dear chap. I shall see myself out and oh…’ Thomson chuckled holding up a finger smudged with dirt. ‘Perhaps you ought to elicit the bed services of your maid after she has accomplished her regular duties.’

  * * *

  ‘Oh Annie, I got me-self a headache again. I don’t think I can go through with it tonight.’

  Annie was brewing a tea for herself after practically forcing Nellie to consume a few spoonfuls of broth.

  ‘You look stronger than you have in weeks Nell. I know you’re scared out of your wits to go outside, but Mr Steele has given one last word that he’ll not come back here again if he ain’t been visited by one of us this evening. He’s squared up with Madame for the whole month, and you know I’ve got a meeting with that tall soldier down at the wharf tonight.’

  Nellie buried her face in a soggy handkerchief and blew hard. ‘But I’m scared I’ll get me throat hacked to bits like Martha Tabram.’

  ‘You won’t Nellie! You know that when I get back here at six I’ll accompany you half way to the docks, and it’ll still be light outside, then I shall wait for you at the gates and we’ll walk back together. No harm will come to you and like I said, that poor cow Martha didn’t deserve the swipe she got, but I do think she had something coming ‘er way, the way she used to swindle those soldiers out of their earnin’s was making us all look like fools. A right bleedin’ joke it was. Wouldn’t surprise me at all if she was killed in revenge.’

  Nellie clucked her tongue. ‘Ooh don’t tell Pearly Poll that, you know how close she and Martha were.’

  ‘That Pearly Poll’s another one. Loving all the attention now she is, what with being the last one to see Martha alive. Only just spotted her two days ago bragging that the soft policeman who helped her at the station had offered to be her personal guard. The whole scandal has made ‘er go soft in the head I reckon.’

  Nellie let out a disgruntled snort. ‘Well he ain’t been caught yet has he? And it ain’t safe out there until he is.’

  ‘They’ll get him Nell, don’t you worry. They’ve dragged half the menfolk in this area in for questioning, even old Jonesy with his horse and cart. Lord knows how they think he’s to blame for the murder, he can’t even walk proper with them shaking legs of his. Well, I fancy that with all these modern ways of telling who done what, they’ll have the real culprit in the nick in no time, you’ll see.’

  Nellie fingered her throat nervously.

  ‘Just don’t forget about me Annie, cause I’ll never be able to walk back here on me own tonight.’

  Picking up a pin Annie secured some loose strands of hair beneath her hat. ‘No more whimpering Nell, let’s just go and get on with it. The streets are ripe with gentlemen for the picking now, what with half the women around here too scared to leave their front doors.

  When you’ve seen to that fellow, wait for me at the dockyard gates. Talking of clocks, ‘ave you spotted Eddie around cause we need some fixing done to our clock upstairs, it ain’t been chiming lately has it?’

  Nellie shrugged. ‘He won’t speak to me Annie, you know that, and he seems to be making himself scarce these days, I don’t spot him about as much.’

  ‘He’ll come around, the silly bugger, he’s still got years of maturing to do yet.’

  ‘He’s twenty-four Annie. A grown man now, not just a kid anymore.’

  Annie leaned over and placed a hand on Nell’s shoulder. ‘He might look like a man but inside his head he’s still a kid. Think about it, he ain’t been anywhere outside of this tavern in his whole life so where did he learn to be a man? He refused to join the regiment, or the navy, remember? And we never forced him out. Maybe it’s us, all too happy to keep him here safe and out of trouble.’

  Nellie wished he’d talk to her again and just forget the rumours that other women had attempted to poison him with. The heavy load on her heart was too much to bear sometimes.

  Annie slipped on her coat and preened herself one last time in the mirror. ‘Oh well, I’ll be off then, see you later Nell.’

  ‘Don’t forget your gloves.’ Nellie called out standing up to pour more boiling water into her cup. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders. She had never felt more fearful of leaving the lodging house on her own in her entire life. But even more frightening than stumbling into the killer, was the shock and pain of succumbing to another pregnancy.

  No more blood. I couldn’t bear it all again.

  But whether Nellie’s misfortunes lay in encountering the murderer in the dark streets, or in succumbing to another pregnancy, there was now one thing she knew for certain.

  Either of them would kill her.

  * * *

  The lodging house kitchen was deathly quiet when Catherine entered. Nellie was sitting alone at the table. It seemed odd to Catherine that Annie was not in her presence. Rarely had she ever seen the woman alone. She was pale, her eyes puffy from crying as she sipped on a hot drink.

  Catherine placed her groceries in the pantry cupboard and smiled nervously. She had to think hard about what to say without upsetting the woman too much or giving her information which she could pass on to Annie.

  ‘I am pleased to see that you are up on yo
ur feet again, Nellie.’

  Nellie sniffed loudly. ‘Yeah well, had me a bad turn lately, but not much good it’ll do me to be up and about will it? Not now that there’s a lunatic on the loose.’

  ‘Did you know the victim?’ Catherine asked, wondering if perhaps that was the reason Nellie appeared so stricken with grief.

  ‘We all knew Martha and her hearty laugh, she was always up for a laugh and she’d share her last crumb o’ bread with you if she saw you were down on your heel. Didn’t deserve that kind of death she didn’t, but then again, death is the only thing that saves us from this rotten place ain’t it?’

  Catherine nodded sympathetically. Nellie actually seemed like a sensible woman. She could imagine that the woman had experienced a lot of suffering in her life. It was a pity that Annie always got in the way of her making friends with any of the girls there. She certainly couldn’t imagine Nellie as a ruthless scheming type, aiding in the murder of a woman who had just delivered a child.

  As they were alone she decided to tackle the subject of Eddie.

  ‘Nellie, I have found that Eddie can be a little difficult to communicate with recently. I believe he was very upset about his mother...’

  ‘Oh no, not that old story again..’ she replied, banging her cup on the table and causing Catherine to jump in alarm.

  ‘Begging you for some sympathy was he? Fact is, he’s hated me ever since someone told him that I was the reason Lily died. Well it’s all rubbish and lies! You think it doesn’t hurt me that Eddie and I was close once. Ever since them rumours got about he’s snubbed me and ignores me wherever I go. He didn’t even visit me when I was laid up at the infirmary.’

  Her face crumpled. ‘I tried to be like a mother to him then he just cut me off. But I didn’t do it. I swore it to him that it was all a lie but he never believed me cause he can’t accept his mother’s death.’

  Catherine could imagine Eddie scowling and cutting Nellie off outright, for he had more or less done the same to her and also felt a twinge of sadness that he might never speak to her again.