I looked at Thomas, searching his expression for anything he wasn’t saying. When he met my gaze, my stomach dropped. This career murderer was undoubtedly the same one we sought.

Poor Noah was unaware he was now tracking the most notorious killer of our time.

THIRTY-FIVE

DARK CREATURES

GRANDMAMA’S ESTATE

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

12 FEBRUARY 1889

It seemed a terrible contrast to be so cozy and snug while reading about missing women who were probably dead. I stared down at my notes, nearly going cross-eyed trying to find a substantial clue that might link our case to Noah’s. The missing women were of ages ranging from nineteen to thirty. Hair color and build varied as much as their backgrounds. The only connection they seemed to share was that they all up and vanished one day, never to be heard from again.

I hadn’t realized I’d pressed my nib so hard until ink splattered across the page. I glanced up sheepishly, but Thomas seemed more worried than amused. Honestly, I was growing more worried with each passing hour, too.

Purplish black shadows under my eyes gave away how little I’d been sleeping. Though I was exhausted each night, my mind never ceased. It was a constant wheel of tension. Nathaniel. Jack the Ripper. Miss Whitehall. His Grace, Lord Cresswell. Missing women. Thomas. Uncle. Each person brought on their own set of worries until I was sitting up in bed, gasping for breath.

“I believe we ought to set this aside for tomorrow,” Thomas said, his attention still fixed on my face. Knowing him, he probably read each of my thoughts before I even had them. “It’s getting late, and while you may not require beauty’s rest, I like to keep myself as pretty as possible.”

I nearly snorted. Sleep. As if I could tumble blissfully into the arms of rest when my world was utter chaos. I flipped to the next page of my brother’s journal and hesitated. It was the only page that had been folded over on itself—almost as if it were hiding.

Or marking the spot for someone to easily find.

“Audrey Rose?”

“Hmm?” I glanced up briefly, turning my attention straight back to the journal. A note scrawled in my brother’s hand stared back at me. It almost read like a poem, though it was only the same sentence written on different lines in different intervals.

A burning sensation gnawed at the pit of my stomach.

I am guilty

of many sins, though

murder is

not one of them.

I am guilty of many sins,

though murder is not one of them.

I am guilty of many sins, though murder is not one of them.

If this were true… I closed my eyes against the sudden feeling of the ceiling dropping down. I breathed in slowly and let it out. If I didn’t calm myself now, I’d experience those waking terrors again. But if Nathaniel was being honest…

“I said I’m turning in for the evening, Wadsworth. Would you care to join me?”

“Mmmh.” I tapped the end of my pen against the table; it was strange for my brother to have so many articles about missing women if he didn’t harm them. I still didn’t understand his role in this mess, but by his own hand, he hadn’t murdered anyone. Whether or not he could be believed was another story altogether. It might simply be another well-constructed mask he’d created to disguise who he truly was.

“I’ve decided to farm spiders. I think training them to dance to show tunes will bring in a hefty sum. It may also cure me of my phobia. Unless you think dancing roosters are better.”

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, half listening to Thomas and half staring at the confession. The more I uncovered, the less I knew anything for certain.

“Once, I hung naked upside down from the rafters, pretending to be a bat. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Wadsworth. I have a confession to make. It’s something I ought to have mentioned sooner. I am shamelessly addicted to reading romance novels. I may even shed a tear or two at their conclusion. What can I say? I’m a fool for a happy ending.”

“I know.” I pulled my attention from the journal and fought a smile. “Liza told me.”

“That scourge!” He feigned being upset, clearly pleased he’d wrested me from work. “She promised to not say a word.”

“Oh, not to worry, my friend. She more or less just showed me your secret stash under the bed. Ravished and Ravenous sounded like an interesting read. Would you care to discuss it?”

A troublesome smile played over his lips. If I expected him to feel shy about his reading tastes, I was hopelessly mistaken. “I’d much prefer to show you how it ends.”

“Thomas,” I warned. He mimed locking his mouth and instead of tossing away his imaginary key, he placed it in his inside pocket, patting the front of his jacket. “What do you make of this? ‘I am guilty of many sins, though murder is not one of them.’”

“Your brother wrote that?” Thomas scratched the side of his head. “Honestly, I don’t know what to make of it. Nathaniel seemed to be Jack the Ripper, especially when we confronted him that night in his laboratory. Since we’ve got more murders done by the same hand, and he is most certainly deceased, we now know that his involvement in the actual slayings was a lie. At least in part. Who knows what else he’s lied about?”

Frustrated, I returned to my work. I wasn’t sure how long had passed, perhaps only minutes, but a similarity finally caught my attention. I set my journal aside and searched the newspaper. There. Quite a few of the women in both London and Chicago were either off to work or inquiring after a job. It was a tiny connection, but it was the only one that might be worth following. I read over the article about the latest missing woman in Chicago.

Her last known whereabouts was exiting the train near the World’s Fair. I scribbled her information down, hating that there wasn’t more to do. I wanted to scour the streets, knocking on doors and demanding people take notice. These were daughters. Sisters. Friends. They were people who were loved and missed. A few moments later, I found another missing notification. A Julia Smythe. She and her young daughter, Pearl, hadn’t been seen since Christmas Eve.

I scribbled another note. Thomas fell asleep at the table, arms sprawled out in front of him, snoring ever so slightly. Despite my work, I grinned.

An hour later, the fire popped, waking him. He glanced around, coming alert as if someone had snuck into this room and attacked us. Once he relaxed and fully woke up, he settled his attention on me. “What is it?”

I pushed over several articles I’d clipped out from the papers.

“Why don’t the police care?” I asked. “Why aren’t more people out combing the streets?” I held up my parchment. On it alone there were nearly thirty women, gone in the span of a few weeks. “This is absurd. At this rate, a few hundred will have vanished in a year’s time. When will it be enough for them to investigate?”

“Do you recall what happened when the lights all came on at once at the fair?” Thomas asked, all traces of tiredness now gone.

It was an odd segue, but I nodded and played along. “People wept. Some said it was magic—the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen.”

“You know why they cried? That fair is quite literally a shining achievement of both art and science. The most talented people in America have poured their blood into making it one of the most surreal places ever to be seen. The Ferris Wheel alone is one of the most incredible feats of engineering. Over twenty-one hundred passengers can ride it at once, soaring nearly three hundred feet into the sky. If something that large can be done, anything is possible. What is the Gilded Age, if not dreams dipped in gold and outlandish fantasy sprung to life?” He shook his head. “If the police admitted there were a staggering number of young women missing, it would be a stain on this place, the ultimate American Dream. Their White City would morph into a den of sin. A reputation Chicago is desperate to mend.”

“It’s awful,” I said. “Who cares if the White City gets stained? A man—most probably Jack the Ripper—is hunting women. Why doesn’t that take precedence over some silly dream?”

“I imagine it’s similar to war—there are always casualties and sacrifices that are made. We happen to live during a time when young, independent women are seen as expendable when pitted against greed. What are a few ‘morally compromised’ women in the face of dreams?”

“Wonderful. So the greed of men can condemn innocent women and we all ought to sit quietly and not utter a word.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe it’s just men who want to keep this illusion up. This is a puritan nation, built upon strict religious notions of good and evil. To admit the devil walked these streets would acknowledge their greatest fears. Something that looked like the Kingdom of Heaven was actually the devil’s dominion. Imagine what that realization would do? No place would feel safe anymore. Hope would be replaced by fear. Night would descend forever. If there’s one thing man cherishes above greed, it’s hope. Without it, people would cease to dream. Without dreamers, civilizations crash. Think about the police inspector in New York. One hint that the Ripper was in his city sent him spiraling into chaos.”

I stared at the fireplace, watching flames lurch up and devour the shadows. Light and dark, forever in conflict. Our task suddenly felt more daunting than usual. I knew confidence when holding a scalpel and demanding clues from flesh. But there were no bodies to inquire after. No physical mystery to dissect.

“What about those missing women? What of their dreams?” I asked quietly. “This city was supposed to be their escape, too.”

Thomas was quiet a moment. “Which is all the more reason for us to fight for them now.”

I grabbed my paper, renewed in our mission. If a fight was what this murderer was after, a fight was precisely what he’d get. I’d not give up until breath left my body.

It was near midnight when I spotted a detail I’d overlooked. Miss Julia Smythe, the missing woman with a child, had last been seen leaving her job at a pharmacy jewelry counter in the Englewood section of Chicago. I rubbed at my eyes. It wasn’t much, but at least we had a goal for tomorrow—a hint of a plan. We could inquire around that neighborhood and see if anyone saw anything out of the ordinary.