“I beg your pardon?” The words didn’t make sense. “You don’t look like a serial killer.” In fact, to all outward appearances, it appeared as if she and Miss Newton were traveling together following a society event they mutually attended.
Oh, dear Lord. Just like those unfortunate ladies…
“That’s the glory of madness. We’re still able to blend in with no one the wiser.”
With a shiver, Fanny did a quick visual search of the woman’s person. She had no pistol or knife, no way to keep her detained. “I want no part of this abhorrent game.” Turning on the bench while her skirting twisted beneath her, she put her back to the door and explored with her fingers for the handle.
“It’s not a game, you twit, it’s life. I want the inspector for myself. We have a connection, he and I, but he can’t see that while he remains infatuated with you.” Her laugh bordered on hysteria. “So I’m removing you from the equation, just as I did all the other girls.”
That made no sense, for the dead women had never come into William’s path, except for the one who’d sold him the fan. And it didn’t explain why she’d killed Lord Coxhill. “Like hell you will.” As soon as her fingers found purchase on the door handle, she pressed it for all she was worth. When the panel popped open, Fanny shoved off the bench and thrust her body out of the vehicle.
She landed hard on the street, banging her shoulder and hip in the process, but the pounding of her heart and the frantic screech of outrage from the mad woman propelled her to her feet. Run, Fanny. Run for your life!
As best she could, she pelted along an alley that opened off the main street. Vaguely, she recognized the area, for they weren’t far from Covent Gardens, but the quirkiness and puzzling layout of the streets she ran down suggested this was more the Seven Dials neighborhood.
Not the best place for an unaccompanied woman to find herself.
There was nothing for it. She continued to run, blindly searching for a safe place to demand assistance, but it was not to be. The streets were confusing, and the chilly air stunk of garbage, refuse, and general hopelessness. Here there was no cheerful parties or lavish balls merely to entertain the uppermost of society. No, here, the gutters were dirty and the inhabitants she passed ragged, unsavory, frightening in their looks of interest and leers of lechery, for her fine clothing would warrant a beating merely for the chance to steal, to say nothing of the jewels about her neck. They’d fetch the poor of the Dials a fortune, and her life was not worth that to them. The wild disparity between classes sent sour bile up her throat, but she must keep moving.
Perhaps two blocks ahead, golden light spilled onto the wet cobblestones. The sound of wild revelry drifted to her ears. Should she chance going into the tavern? Would the inhabitants render aid or plunge her further into danger?
I must try.
However, her endurance flagged, and her pace slowed. The limp was quite a detriment. Fanny’s breath gave out. With terror pulsing through her veins, she paused to rest and reassess her choices. What would William do? Obviously, he’d bring out a pistol, but she didn’t have the option. The stinking darkness pressed in on her, feeding the fear that held her captive, nearly frozen in fact.
The scrape of a slipper sole behind her betrayed the fact someone had followed. Was it the deranged Miss Newton or a new threat? Knowing she couldn’t outrun a pursuer, Fanny turned, determined to face the person. Her muscles tensed to run, to fight, but Miss Newton was too fast for her, and undoubtedly had ample practice in evading detection or defense.
With a cry of rage, the madwoman lashed out.
Something hard caught Fanny on the side of her head. As pain exploded through her skull, she fell to her knees. In the dim light, she caught sight of a brick in Miss Newton’s hand. She gawked. “You hit me with a brick?” Was there no end to the woman’s depravity?
“Yes, now be a good girl and pass out.” When Fanny didn’t comply with the order, the redhaired woman huffed out with exasperation. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I hate when they fight me.”
Fanny threw up her hands, but her attacker was too quick. She kicked out a foot, catching Fanny in the same side of the head where the brick had already struck. Twinkling stars filled her mind, and with a cry of protest, she tumbled forward into enveloping darkness…
…empty as a grave.
Oh, William, would that we’d known each other sooner.