Capturing the Devil Page 46
“No, I’m afraid—” Mr. Taylor sat back, brows drawn together. “Actually, there was someone. A young man stopped by two days ago. He wore a bowler hat and matching overcoat. Seemed like a reputable fellow. I’m not sure—Dolores?” he called abruptly, flashing an apologetic grimace our way. A young woman poked her head around the partition. “Do you remember what that gentleman came here for? The one who talked to Edna?”
The young woman frowned a bit, then brightened. “I couldn’t hear much, but he mentioned having her money.” She shrugged. “I think he was her old employer, but she didn’t say much once he left.”
Noah thanked Mr. Taylor for his time and we all made our way back outside. Thomas offered his arm and I accepted it. We parted ways with Noah near the front of the Court of Honor. He had to stop by the Pinkertons’ office and it was on the opposite side of the city.
We strolled along, each lost in our private thoughts, when one tiny, almost insignificant detail sprang to mind.
“Wait.” I pulled Thomas to a stop, recalling what I’d seen on a map of Chicago. “Sixty-Third Street; I believe that’s in Englewood. We need to go to that pharmacy straightaway. So far two missing women were last seen in that neighborhood, or had a connection to a pharmacy there—Julia Smythe with her daughter, Pearl, on Christmas Eve, and now Miss Van Tassel.”
And Miss Minnie Williams, Mephistopheles’s actress, had just started working there. I didn’t know her well, but I didn’t want her to cross paths with our murderer, especially since he seemed to stalk that neighborhood.
Thomas nodded toward the sky. It was a dusky rose tinged with purple and black. I stared at the sun dipping into the horizon, wondering how I’d not noticed how late it had gotten. Thomas called for a carriage. “I’m afraid our adventure will have to wait until morning. Most shops close at dark.”
I wanted to argue, to point out that our murderer didn’t care what time of day it was, that he’d still keep up his sinister pursuits, but before I could utter a word, the skies opened up. Hail clattered around us, ensuring that no one would be lurking around outdoors now.
Thomas held his coat over my head, trying to shield me from the worst of it before ushering me quickly into our hansom. We were both quiet as we watched the White City fade behind us. From here, the buildings jutted up from the horizon, like broken fingers reaching toward the sky. It was a morbid thought.
As our wheels clattered over stone and frozen rain tapped at our roof, I hoped it wasn’t an omen of worse things to come.
Typical Victorian Pharmacy, Plough Court Pharmacy, 1897
THIRTY-SEVEN
A GRID SYSTEM
SOUTH SIDE
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
14 FEBRUARY 1889
I blew out a breath, glancing from one avenue to the other. Chicago’s streets seemed to devour those who weren’t familiar with them, leaving no morsel behind. “Foolish,” I cursed under my breath. Why I imagined it an easy task, taking a streetcar instead of hiring a carriage, I didn’t know. Thomas left me standing on the corner as he dashed into the nearest store to inquire after our destination. At least I wasn’t alone in my lack of direction.
“Miss, are you lost?” A man in his mid-twenties wearing a sleek coat and matching bowler hat stepped close, but not improperly so.
“This city is impossible.” I tossed a hand up, indicating the whole area. “At least New York is laid out in a grid. There are practically a dozen ‘Washington’ streets alone!”
“Chicago’s actually a grid, too, and it’s fairly easy to navigate once you’ve had some practice.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Townships keep getting swallowed up, which is why there are so many streets with the same names. You’re from England, I presume?”
I nodded. “I’m from London.”
“You’re a bit far from home.” He eyed me in a friendly manner. “Are you here for the fair?”
“My fiancé and I are here for a variety of reasons.” Admitting I was here to hunt the White City Devil seemed a bit much to tell a perfect stranger. “Do you know where I might find this pharmacy?” I showed him the address Minnie Williams had scribbled down after our introduction at Mephistopheles’s theatrical show. “I thought this was Wallace, but I seem to have gotten turned about.”
He took the letter from me, then shifted. “It’s right over there. See that jewelry store?” I followed where he pointed, barely making out a small sign. The building was still a good distance away. It had to be the same store where Miss Smythe was last seen. “Is your fiancé joining you? Or did you slip away on your own?”
An uncomfortable feeling slithered through me. I discreetly studied the young man—he was perfectly ordinary. Except for the almost cobalt-like hue of his eyes; they were quite mesmerizing. I tried imagining him stealing women off the streets, or ripping them apart, if he were the elusive Ripper. Mr. Cigrande claimed the demons who’d taken his daughter had light eyes, but this man’s were a deep blue.
“Should we not tell your fiancé about this?” he pressed.
“My—”
Thomas rounded the corner that very moment, his attention immediately running over the young man in his usual manner. I knew he was identifying each detail and cataloging it for future use. His expression remained unreadable.
“You must be the fiancé,” the young man said, turning up the wattage on his smile. “I was watching over your lady here.”
“Yes, well, my lady hardly needs watching.” Thomas didn’t return the man’s smile. “I enjoy obedience in my dogs, not my wife. She’s free to do as she pleases.”
I tried not to heave a sigh. I loved that Thomas never shied away from sharing his innermost opinions, but we’d have to work on his delivery a bit more in the future.
“No insult intended.” The young man raised his hands. “If ever there was a city where young women were free to do as they please, it’s Chicago.” He was sincere sounding enough. “I hope you both enjoy your stay. Make sure to visit the fair at night—it’s spectacular.”
With a quick nod to us both, he crossed the street and disappeared around the next block. Thomas watched him go before looping his arm through mine. “Apparently you and I are stellar at details of murder but abysmal at locating storefronts. The address we’re looking for is—”
“Right over there,” I finished, grinning up at him. “Let’s not tell anyone about our terrible sense of direction.”
A bell jangled pleasantly above us as we stepped into the pharmacy. Thomas immediately abandoned me in favor of a table stacked with sugar cubes. He held a small box up, breathing in the scent as if it were a fresh bouquet. I all but rolled my eyes. We were here on a hunch regarding the Ripper frequenting this establishment, and here he was, mesmerized by candy.
“Lemon drop.” He picked up another. “Mint.” He clutched them to his chest, glancing toward me. “Imagine what these would taste like in coffee or tea?”
“Those infused sugar cubes are one of our bestsellers.” A familiar young woman stepped around the table, her smile infectious. “Miss Wadsworth. Mr. Cresswell.”
“Miss Williams,” I said, hugging Minnie warmly. “It’s lovely to see you again. How are you enjoying your stenography course?”
“It’s good. There’s always much to do, so I’m quite busy. I split my time between that and watching the counter here until Henry hires another girl. We rent a few rooms out upstairs and I tell you, I can’t keep up. It’s hard to find reliable employees lately. Everyone wants to be at the fair, not stuck behind a counter.” Minnie plastered on a smile, though it didn’t light up her face the way acting had. “Enough with talk of work; I’m so pleased you both came to see me! Just look at this!” She held up her hand, showing off a beautiful wedding band. “We married a few days ago. It was a private little affair, but I couldn’t be happier. Henry’s found us a place in Lincoln Park. We’re almost settled in, and I’d love if you’d come visit. He’ll be traveling for a bit and it’ll just be me in that big old house. Not that I’m complaining—it’s simply darling.” Her attention strayed to where Thomas was still lifting boxes of sugar and breathing in their aromas. “You’re welcome to take a few home, Mr. Cresswell. I’m sure Henry won’t mind.”
Thomas lifted his gaze to mine, his expression hopeful.
“I’m your fiancée, not your keeper, Cresswell.”
Actually, I wasn’t technically either. I must have frowned because his eyes darkened into two pools of trouble. I braced myself for whatever untoward thing was about to come out of his mouth to distract me. Sugar cubes forgotten, he tossed them aside and took a quick nip at my ear. “Who needs sugar when you’re sweet enough to satisfy me, Wadsworth?”
Poor Minnie appeared as uncomfortable as anything. I gave Thomas my most exaggerated eye roll and shook my head. “Will you look around for anything else you might be interested in?” I raised my brows, hinting at our ulterior motives. “Perhaps you’ll find something of note.”
Thomas looked ready to dazzle me with another of his flirtations, and before he could utter something silly, I turned to Minnie. “The pharmacy is lovely. I’ve never seen so many tonics in one place. There must be over one hundred different jars.”
“Oh, goodness.” Minnie eyed up the shelves as she stepped out from behind the counter. Bottles filled with powder and different colored liquids were stacked two and three rows deep. “There’s closer to three hundred! Henry is gifted with his elixirs. He’s got tonics for headaches and backaches and even creams for smooth skin. People from all over the city come in to purchase his tinctures.”
“Well, with a collection so grand, I can see why.” We walked through the store, my cane clicking pleasantly. “Minnie,” I began slowly, not wanting to frighten her, “have you heard about a Miss Julia Smythe? Or her daughter, Pearl?”