The Secrets of Whitechaple

Chapter 8

Fredrick looked horrible. He sat in the chair opposite me int he parlor, drowning his sorrows in a glass of Brandy. 

"He's already taken three victims and not a shred of evidence. All we have a  knife wounds." Frederick takes a long drink from his glass, finishing it off.  "How can that be? I'm supposed to be the best of my peers but I can't even solve this one. It has never take me so long. The men are losing moral and the Captain of the police is telling me that if I don't solve this one quick I can forget about being Chief. They are going to demote me." He leans over to the table beside his and refills his glass to the brim.

"I don't know what to tell you, Fredrick. The only thing I'm sure of is that you will catch him. You always catch your criminals." I reassure him, but under that I am begging God for him to never solve his case, at least not until I'm finished. That's all, I just have to finish, then I won't care what happens to me. 

For an hour after that Fredrick takes drink after drink, glass after glass, until he can't even stand up. Luckily he brought along his own personal carriage. I pour him into it, he's about as liquid as the Brandy he was enjoying five minutes ago. 

I bid the driver to take care of him and see them off. I'm walking up to my study when I begin to think of Frances. She was so beau-. No. Stop. It's not time for that.

I glance at my watch. Its a quarter after nine, almost dark. Time to get to work. 

*      *       *

Melissa's P.O.V.

I saw him buy flowers. Then when he left the shop he turned the opposite way of his home and approached a prostitute. my heart shattered. I thought he was different. They walked away together and despite my disgust and heartache I followed them. 

They went behind the Educational Club. He asked her name and she replied with Elizabeth Stride. Why would he want to know that whore's name? Doesn't he just want to do his business and move on to real people who matter? When I managed to pull myself for my thoughts the woman had this strange look on her face. I couldn't see his face because he was facing away from me but she looked scared and in pain. 

She fell to the floor with blood falling from her neck, I gasped. So it's true. All that I read in the journal I found when he was examining a patient is true. How could he do such a thing? How could he participate in an activity so important and not ask me, his loyal and devoted assistant, to help him? 

 The back door to the club flew open and before I could even let out a breath he disappeared and the man who walked in on the scene began to scream for help. 

*      *       *

Still Melissa's P.O.V. 

I have been walking for an hour. I am still unable to get over the small sting of betrayal I have been feeling ever since I witnessed it all. How could he not see that I loved him? Why wouldn't he trust me enough to let me help, to tell me what he has been doing? We could do it together. Those women are a menace to society. They are scum. I have to show him that I can be of use to him. He will see that we are perfect together if I do. He'll love me and we can be happy together. 

And that's when I see her stumbling along. I know that I'm in Mitre Square because of the shop sign that says Mitre butcher. Perfect, there is hardly any police in the square at this time of night. I walk closer and closer to her until she can see me. 

She's drunk. I can tell. She squints and shakes her head, she's paying no notice to me gently guiding her into the darkest corner of the square. 

I pull out the knife that my land lord had given me for protection. She still pays no notice to me. She only pays notice when I grab her firmly and slice open her neck just like I had seen Dr. Williams do. She tries to scream but it just comes out as a gargled mess of blood and saliva.

She falls to the ground and I hesitate for a moment. I almost feel remorse. Almost. I'm not able to because the pain of Dr. William's betrayal comes back and now I'm angry. Too angry to stop myself from stabbing her lifeless corpse over and over again. I don't care when her blood covers me, I don't when the knife becomes slippery and drops repeatedly, and I also don't care when I can't even recognize her any more. 

"It's your fault." I spit out at her venomously. It is he fault, her and her kind. They took him form me. All of his attention is on them now. He can't see me in the slightest. Not even to ask me to help him. 

I hear footsteps and I duck into a nearby alley. "OH MY GOD!!" I hear a woman scream and drop something. Then more footsteps, quicker this time. They move away from me, them just as fast as they had disappeared, they come back. Except there's more this time.

"I think that's Catherine Eddowes." One man says. 

"Are you sure?" Another questions him.

"Positive. I just released her from look up an hour ago." Oh no. A police officer. Her name is all I get to hear because as soon as I get the hint that he's a police officer I run the other way. I don't stop running until I home. 

I clean up and sit down at my table. I have a vial of ink, parchment, and a quill with me. I begin to write in the same format I had seen of the few pages of Dr. Williams' journal. The date, her name, time of death, and then everything that I had done to her; well, the things I could remember at least. 

*      *      *

Melissa's P.O.V. again

It's the next morning and I have just opened the office and have sat down to work when Dr. Williams walks through the door and bids me a good morning. I say good morning back. 

"These are for you, for the amazing work you do." He says with a big smile that just takes my breath away. 

I open the box he has presented to me and I smile brighter and bigger, if that's even possible. "Thank you so much, Dr. Williams." I am so joyful, I jump out of my chair and enclose him I a tight hug. Maybe he does have feelings for me.

"You're welcome, my dear." My brain melts when he calls me his "dear." I, however, have realized how inappropriate the hug was and immediately let go. 

My face is a flame from embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry, Doctor." 

'That's quite alright. I think it's natural for a woman to be excited when they receive flowers. It doesn't seem to happen very often." He laughs and waves away my embarrassment. and I'm back to smiling because of his kindness.

"Thank you again, Dr. Williams." 

He smiles at me and goes in to his office. I'm left staring after him for a few more minutes day dreaming about our future together until I finally snap out of it and get to work; we have a busy day ahead of us.