Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74 {Part 1}

~Chapter 135: Catherine Eddowes~

"Julian found the next sacrifice a few days later, Miss Eddowes, a lowly maid who resorted to selling herself for money when times were tight. She was an odd woman, who seemed quite rigid and cold, and much less stupid than the others. Part of me even slightly admired her inquisitiveness."

It was easy to find Miss Eddowes, as she worked for one of my fellow lordly acquaintances; Lord Howard. I asked him if I could visit his estate one evening, to appreciate his garden; as he frequently had wanted me to see it, since his new extensions. I found this the ideal excuse. He took me to the garden, to look around at the many flora and fauna, and then he took me to the manor's conservatory to enjoy a well prepared meal. Miss Eddowes was one of the maids serving us that night. She often stood to the back, her expression solemn and quite sour; her knotted hair tied into a ponytail. She cut fruit for us occasionally, and then mainly stood to the side, waiting to see if her master would bark an order at her. When Lord Howard ordered her to pour me a glass of wine, she stepped forward, lowering her head, and started to do so.
"Such a humble maid you have, Lord Howard," I spoke, trying to sound rather charming," Afraid the ones back at my estate are rather clumsy, I hired new ones, you see."
"New ones, you say?" Lord Howard ate, piggishly," That's silly of you, Henry. I only get the most experienced, and I must say it's worthwhile. Less messy. Eddowes, wine!"
He pointed his podgy finger at his glass, and I watched as the maid miserably shuffled over to serve him more. I never liked Lord Howard. He was quite brutish and unseemly, and had an ugly way with words.

"Don't be so rude to her, Lord Howard," I chuckled, patting the empty seat beside me," Miss Eddowes, will you join us?"
Lord Howard looked disgusted, and Miss Eddowes seemed rather upset by such a request.
"Don't be so childish, Henry!"
"Oh, but why can't she? I'd quite like the company of a woman."
"No, Henry."
I let out a miserable sigh, and glanced apologetically at Miss Eddowes," Ashame, your master is such a brute. My apologies, Miss Eddowes."
She glared at me, her cheeks flushed, and stepped aside to her station; going back to cutting fruit for me and Lord Howard. After a while, Lord Howard left the conservatory to change, and I decided now was the perfect time to strike. I got up, and made my way over to the maid.
"Miss Eddowes, may I take you for a walk?"
She looked rather upset, but her senior forced her to join me, and apologized for Miss Eddowes reluctance. I took the maid, and led her far from the estate, all the way to Whitechapel - neither of us spoke. Until.

"Lord Howard rather upsets me," I hummed, frowning," Treating such a delicate creature like yourself so...dreadfully."
Miss Eddowes glanced away, silently, her expression sullen. I didn't like it. It reminded me of my grandmother. As much as I used her for my own benefit, I did not like her - not one bit. My hand seemed to find its way into my bag, in which I had brought the surgery supplies to do the job. Yet, from the corner of my own eye, I could see Miss Eddowes reaching into her own dress. Something wasn't right. I grabbed the blade and went to go for her, but Miss Eddowes seemed to react instantly. From her own dress, she brought out a kitchen knife, that parried my own blade. There was a glint in her eyes, a steady one, with intent to get rid of me. I grinned, despite myself.
"Miss Eddowes, you are a lowly woman, yet you are worthy of much praise," I laughed.
"No praise is necessary, I'm simply not foolish," Miss Eddowes spoke, calmly," I'm well aware of Jack the Ripper, so I knew to always carry a weapon. It seems he is you, is he not, Lord Mohan?"
She swiped for me, and managed to land a slice upon my upper arm. I watched in bewilderment as blood soaked through my shirt and jacket. A lowly maid...had the nerve to land a hit on me? I wasn't sure whether to laugh from the absurdity or yell. I did neither.

I caught Miss Eddowes by her arm, and shoved her back against the wall of Mitre Square. She yelled out, thrashing as she tried to free herself from my grip; trying to land another hit on me with the blade.
"I'll be the one to bring you to Scotland Yard, Lord Mohan!" Miss Eddowes yelled," This was your final act-!"
Unfortunately for her, I was much too strong, and she was quickly silenced and lying on the floor.
"Oi!" A man, who had witnessed the whole thing, called out; stood in the dark of the square.
I stared down at Miss Eddowes, before tilting my head back ever so slightly, to glance at the man staring back at me. I could tell my eyes were wide at that moment, and I could only imagine how manic I looked at that moment in time. He cried out, running to attack me. That was his first, and last, mistake. I didn't end him. No. He was not my target. Rather, I shoved my blade in his hands and swiftly ducked into a nearby alley; for I had heard nearby footsteps running across the cobble. I wouldn't have to silence the witness, for somebody else, would do the job for me.
"Caught you!"
I heard the gunshot fire, and watched the man stare at me in horror, before dropping onto the floor beside poor Miss Eddowes. As he fell, from the darkness, i watched as Sherlock Holmes was revealed; pointing the gun at the man.

He had a successful grin on his face, thinking he had caught Jack the Ripper, and I knew he thought it was definitely me. I watched in satisfaction as his face fell, noticing the man was not me; rather some common worker. Beside Sherlock, was another, a young man with dirty-blonde hair, and a boyish look to him.
"Did we...catch him, Sherlock?" The boy whispered.
I grinned; Sherly couldn't see me~
"I..." Sherlock muttered, walking over to the body and staring down at it," I... don't know, Watson..."
He clearly had been so adamant it was me, so determined to catch me. Yet now he saw a face he hadn't even considered to be a suspect, and his whole world was crashing down like a tower of cards. Sherlock bit his lip, nudging the man with his foot.
"This is... unexpected," Sherlock muttered," Not even close to what we anticipated. This man... no, he can't be Jack the Ripper! Blasted, we shot the wrong man!"
"We have?" Watson cried," What should we do?"
I realised how perfectly this had all turned out. Sherlock was just like me now. I had valuable information about him, and I wasn't willing to give it up, not even for a moment.
Sherlock turned to Watson," We have to keep this quiet. Come on... we'll go to the Thames, dispose of this ourselves."

Watson nervously nodded, and ran to fetch a bag. Sherlock let out a humourless laugh.
"I will catch you, Henry Mohan, mark my words. I know it's you. And when I catch you, this little game will all be over."
I scowled, pressed against the alley wall. Sherlock let out a sigh, glancing back at the man.
"Sorry, sir."
He then cast his gaze to Miss Eddowes and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed, staring at the bloody dagger in her hands. He gently took it, pocketing it, before turning to help Watson. I watched a moment longer, before disappearing into the shadows, feeling quite satisfied, despite my lack of organ harvesting.

I decided to do a bit of my own digging on Mr Sherlock Holmes the next day, since he had taken a liking to snooping in my own affairs. I found that he lived in a town house on Bakers street, both he and his little lap dog, Watson, resided there as tennants under a woman named Mrs Hudson. I found a rather convenient balcony round the back, that I managed to slip onto and use to peer into the window of Mr Holmes' very own study. He was pacing around, rather frantically; Watson sat at a chair, taking notes.
"I'm telling you Watson, it can't be the man we killed!" Sherlock announced, loudly, the window was slightly open.
Watson sighed, scribbling," Well we found him in the crime scene, over the body."
"Yes but I could have swore I heard-!"
"Lord Mohan? You can't let it go, can you!? You're so adamant it's him!"
"I'm certain it's him, Watson," Sherlock rounded the table, looking seriously into Watson's eyes," I've seen him. Talked to him. Known him. His wife was one of the victims! He has the perfect situation. He's bloody brilliant too, a natural genius; it...it has to be him..."
I felt myself blush slightly from the compliments. As much as Sherlock infuriated me, there was something about him that I admired, to the point I almost liked him. More than anyone I had ever met before.

Watson let out a sigh, and Sherlock turned and went to pacing again.
"Listen, give it some time," Watson muttered," If there are no murders, we'll know it was that man. And, if there are, we can go back to investigating that Lord Mohan."
Sherlock stopped pacing, facing the wall and sighed miserably; his shoulders sagging.
"Fine, just...leave me alone for a moment, I need to focus."
Watson nodded, he tucked in his chair once stood, and left; shutting the door. I decided to keep watching Sherlock, out of sheet fascination. The detective crossed the room, and took out a case, which he opened and took out a violin. He grabbed a cigarette and lit it, placing it into his mouth, before he started to play at the violin. As he did so, his eyebrows furrowed into deep concentration, strumming at the strings slightly harder than ideal, puffing largers amounts of the smoke into the room. I felt a small smirk of satisfaction tug at my lips seeing the man so helplessly torn, so close to the truth, but so far all at once. It felt nice to see Sherlock as frustrated as I had been with him, once upon a dream. I listened to his stressed sonata before deciding to give him space, and I dropped from the balcony of his town house and went on my merry way, back to my little home.