Anatomy of Evil [Barker & Llewellyn: 7] by Will Thomas

Author:Will Thomas [Thomas, Will]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Mystery, Suspense
ISBN: 9781466837201
Goodreads: 23396572
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2015-05-11T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

As humble as it was, my mattress looked inviting after a long night at the theater. I doffed my finery and folded it carefully before pulling on a shirt and trousers, in case we should have to go out again. There was nothing prophetic about this; it was just a precaution, but I was glad I did so all the same.

Later that night we were awakened by a pounding on the door. For the first few seconds I didn’t know where I was. Nothing looked like my bed, or my window that faced the garden. Then I remembered where I was, just as Barker opened the door to whoever was knocking in the very middle of the night. I heard, but could not make out, a low conversation in the hall outside our doors. Something had happened. After a minute or two, I heard the man’s sturdy boots going back down the hall again and Barker returned.

“Thomas,” he said. “Dress yourself. There has been another murder.”

“An unfortunate?” I asked, hunting for my boots.

“In Dutfield’s Yard.”

“That’s off Berner Street.”

“I’m glad all that walking has taught you something.”

We dressed quickly and hurried out into the night. The sky looked blue with starlight. Orion spanned the horizon, as we jogged along swiftly. The area around Berner Street was full of people, though it was not even five o’clock. They start work early here, and somehow East Enders know when there is something nearby that would offer them a few moments’ entertainment.

We pushed our way through concentric knots of people until we came upon a still form which had been tented with a large piece of canvas and an overturned cart, guarded by two constables. I attempted to get close, but was warned away. We began to try to convince them of our identity, which was not easy for there were children running about, trying to get a view of the body, and a half-dozen others who felt their status or occupation entitled them to see it, as well.

“Let them in,” a gruff voice ordered. I turned and recognized Detective Chief Inspector Swanson puffing placidly on a bulldog pipe. We moved closer to hear what he had to say.

“Apparently, the victim’s name is Elizabeth Stride. ‘Long Liz,’ they called her. She was a Swede, about forty-five. An unfortunate, obviously. That’s all we have so far. We’re waiting for Warren to come and take over the investigation. We’ve been ordered not to move the body until he arrives.”

Barker and I took a moment to view the body in situ. It was in the same position as the others, with her arms down at her sides and her lower limbs drawn up and separated. The throat had been cut to the bone and a stream of blood ran like a long scarf toward the gutter. I could see bone through the gaping wound. There was no blood on her petticoats, however, to indicate she had been savaged. The victim had a long, thin face, which may have earned her the name.

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