Ripper by Stefan Petrucha

Author:Stefan Petrucha [Petrucha, Stefan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101560556
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

42

DELIA led Carver to the door. “It’d be better if someone they knew explained who you were.”

“I’ll stay here, then,” Alice said. “But I am looking forward to hearing whatever it is you’re going to say.”

At the stairs, Delia slipped her arm into his. “Speak simply and plainly. Keep in mind you don’t sound completely sane when you start talking about a secret detective base.”

“How will I sound when I say I’m the killer’s son?”

She frowned. “Take it from the beginning. Start with finding the letter.”

When they arrived in the foyer, Jerrik came into view first. Fair hair neatly combed, a legal pad on his narrow lap, he was in mid-sentence when he saw them.

“…Delia?”

Roosevelt turned his square head, his eyes zeroing in on Carver. “Tudd! Your nephew has the most disquieting habit of showing up in odd places.”

Tudd? Carver jerked his head around. Alone in a deep cushioned love seat sat Mr. Tudd, a dark bruise on his face. Carver froze.

The fifty-something leader of the New Pinkertons rolled to his feet. “I’m glad he’s here.”

“Why is he here, Delia?” Jerrik said. “And who is he?”

“Carver Young,” Anne said. “An old friend of Delia’s from the orphanage.”

“I made it clear this was to be a private interview!” Roosevelt said, rustling in his seat.

By now Tudd was at the entrance, facing Carver. “I have something of grave importance to tell you. It’s about Mr. Hawking,” he whispered.

“What?” Carver said. “Is he all right?”

“No.”

The word hit Carver like a ton of bricks. The depth of his concern for the bristly man surprised him. “Not here,” Tudd whispered. “Let’s take a walk.”

Tudd turned to the adults. “My deepest apologies again, Commissioner, Mr. and Mrs. Ribe. Would you excuse us a moment?”

“If you mean may you leave with your nephew, the answer is yes,” Roosevelt said. “If you’re asking me to forgive a second scene, I’ll withhold judgment until given a full explanation.”

Tudd nodded. “Of course,” he said, then made for the door with Carver.

As Tudd opened the door, Roosevelt looked around. “How did he get in? We’ve been sitting here the whole time, the front door in view. Is there another entrance?” As he scanned the room, he glanced up at a vent directly above his head. His eyes narrowed and he shouted, “Alice! Move away from the vent at once!”

Whatever he said next to his daughter was muffled by the closing door.

On the stoop, Carver immediately asked, “What’s happened?”

Tudd nodded toward the carriage driver, who was watching them curiously. “Just to the corner. Thanks to you, I no longer enjoy the Commissioner’s complete confidence and I’d rather not have the situation deteriorate further.”

They moved up along Franklin, toward Varick Street.

“What happened to Mr. Hawking?” Carver asked again.

“No apology for pummeling me and leaving me to bleed in a hallway? Do you realize I had to crawl into the street and pretend I’d been hit by a cab? Thank heavens your friend said nothing, though I suspect she’s more interested in protecting you.”

Part of Carver felt he should apologize, but something held him back, an unease in the air.

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