Inspector Abberline took yet another long draw of opium. He couldn't remember how many days he'd been in the den or even if it was day or night. He stank of human filth and couldn't even bring himself to care. The visions took him again and he saw her. Mary. The clean ocean air was playing with her hair as she called for the child while taking a quick glance at the horizon. The one time prostitute was looking for ships that might be carrying passengers. Carrying him. The cool feel of the gold coins in his palm was the only thing that reminded him that he wasn't next to her. And never could be. Not while he was alive. A voice that sounded like it was in a watery grave said, "Get up."
Abberline recognized the voice. Where was it from? It didn't matter; he didn't want to talk to anybody.
"Get up!"
There was a long pause, and then a meaty warm hand was pressing against his throat. Abberline pushed the sensation away and returned to Mary and Alice, wanting with all of his being to fly to her. He may have burned her letter, but even the fires of hell could not burn the address from his mind.
When he was pulled out of his vision, the coins were over his eyes. Only Godley would do that. Though he had just come out of a very long stupor, the mechanics of his mind were working quickly. If Godley had placed the coins over his eyes, he had to have believed that Abberline was dead. And that was understandable; Opium slows the heart rate and with the amount he had taken it would seem like Abberline's heart had stopped completely. The sergeant would make it known that the inspector was dead. Surely the men watching Abberline would stop their chase when they heard he had died of an overdose.
Abberline swiped the coins from his eyes and literally rose from the dead. None of the people in the den would remember the corpse moving; they were too far gone and would assume that somebody or other had come in and removed him. He stuffed his hat on his head and pulled on a long heavy trench coat he took from another member of the den before racing out. Abberline barely remembered to slow his gait before he reached the street. He still didn't see any of the men that had been following him for the past six years, and he went unnoticed. When Abbeline reached the docks, he booked a passage that would get him to a village far away from Mary's village. He was still being as cautious as possible so that he could protect Mary and Alice.
Abberline stood on the dock and pressed his face into the wind, finally feeling it in the here and now and not just in his visions of Mary. The ship was docking at the village, and he found himself anxiously pacing. As soon as the captain allowed the passengers to be released, he rushed into the mass of people leaving. At a nearby inn there was a carriage that could be bought for 2 pounds, the driver's silence for the same price. Abberline urged the driver to push his horses faster, risk the loss of a wheel, and take the dangerous shortcut through the woods, anything to get to his beloved faster. Finally, they reached the small village on the coast. Abberline stared out the windows, looking for the home he'd seen so many times in his visions. When he saw the small white house he knocked on the roof of the carriage and leapt out before the carriage had come to a stop. He could see Mary in the garden, and could no longer wait to take him into his arms. She spun and gasped as Abberline leapt the gate and dropped the basket of clothes she had been carrying. The two lovers embraced tightly, completely forgetting the brutal murders that brought them together and the following years of loneliness. Mary framed his face with her hands and pressed her forehead against his, breathing in his scent and feeling an immense rush of happiness.
"Mother? Who is this?" Alice's small voice called from the doorway.
Mary brushed tears from her eyes before turning to face her daughter. She took Abberline's hand and brought him into the house, amazed that her family was finally together.