Chapter Three: Adela Crowle
"Roses have both petals and thorns... You needn't believe something weak because it appears delicate. Show the world your bravery."~"Stalking Jack the Ripper" by Kerri Maniscalo
March 13th, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
She sat shivering in her chambers; a cold rag pressed to her cheek as she tasted blood in her mouth. He had gotten angry again. She leaned over the bathroom sink and spat; a tooth and blood came splattered into the sink, and she let out a sob. Her face hurt, her body ached, her clothes rumpled and disheveled; he had been too rough again.
Adela Crowle was wholly and utterly broken.
She had no one to turn to. Jude made sure of that.
Would she die here?
In this house with her husband's rage?
She didn't want to die.
Leaving the bathroom and going to her shared bedroom with her husband, she gasped at the sight of a letter on her vanity; the maid must have left it whilst Jude was in his fit of anger. Approaching with a shaking hand, she picked up the letter and—and after checking that she was truly alone—opened it.
"Meet me at 701 Victorian Street on March 14th at midday. Come alone. Burn this note after you read it."
~Nessie Morgan
…
Marie stayed in the sitting room while Louis left to 'fetch the rest,' as William put it. She finally took a seat in a chair adjacent to Albert and William, shedding her coat over the back of the chair and leaving her in her plain gray dress with a small bustle that matched her hair. They had offered her tea, but Marie had declined. Just because she would be working for William didn't mean she had to play nice.
The door opened again, and Louis came in with two other men. One was shorter than her—abruptly, she realized it was the other figure from earlier—and quite a bit younger. He had black hair and dark eyes and was dressed in a simple shirt, coat, and trousers. He was fiddling with the end of his blue scarf he had wrapped around his neck, and his eyes flitted about the room.
The second man was much taller and older, in his thirties if Marie had to guess. His hair was dark and styled, his eyes equally as dark and calculating. He swept in with a dark overcoat and matching trousers, his boots making a racket as he lumbered in. He started when he noticed Marie.
"Who's the lady?" He asked as he took a seat, and Marie clenched her hands. William gestured to her and said,
"This is Ms. Marie Dubois. And as of today, she is our newest member. Marie, this is Fred Porlock and Colonel Sebastian Moran." He said and gestured to the younger boy and the older man, respectively.
Fred nodded once as if accepting the information at face value. Sebastian, however, twisted his lip in a slight sneer.
"What, a woman? She'll just get in the way." He said, and his tone indicated he didn't really mean anything by it; he thought he was simply stating facts. Marie twisted her lips in a grimace, so he was going to be this way, was he? Before she could say anything to defend herself, William spoke.
"I assure you she is quite capable. Ms. Dubois deals with poisons and the like. She already has a body count in the-"
"Three hundred and two. That's how many people I've killed." Marie interrupted, and Sebastian raised an eyebrow, taking an offered cup of tea from Louis, who had shifted into the role of butler.
"How'd you kill 'em?" He asked, and Marie smiled, tilting her head slightly as she answered.
"Poisons of different varieties. Just like the kind I'll put in your tea if you underestimate me again." Sebastian choked on his mouthful and hurriedly put his cup down as if she had already put poison in his tea.
Marie looked out the window and watched as the sun peeked over the horizon. She fought off a yawn and stood,
"I really must be going. I assume you have a way of contacting me when I'm needed?" At this, William nodded,
"Of course. We'll have Fred deliver any messages to your residence. Have a good day Ms. Dubois."
…
Adela stood shivering by a flower shop as she waited for Nessie to show up. She had already debated on purchasing flowers as appeasement towards Jude, but she knew he would just throw the vase at her anyway and didn't want to give him any more ammo than he already had. It was hard enough to convince him to let her out of the house anyway.
"Adela?" She nearly sobbed at the sound of her name being called so sweetly and turned to see Nessie.
She was garbed in traditional mourning attire as her husband had just passed away from illness. Her veil hid most of her features, and her long dress was stylish yet drab in its colors of pitch black. She held a black parasol in her gloved hands.
"Nessie! It is so good to see you, but I must ask, why are we meeting so soon after your husband's passing? Shouldn't you be in mourning?" Adela asked, and even through her veil, she could see Nessie's gentle smile.
"I don't have time for that. Things are getting worse, aren't they?" At this, Adela hid a whimper and very nearly shook her head before resigning herself to a single nod.
"What if I told you I had a way out? What if I told you a woman could take away your problems? Would you take that chance?" Adela looked up to see Nessie holding out a hand, her gaze firm through her veil.
Without hesitation, Adela took her hand.
Nessie led her down a dark alleyway and away from the others. Adela clutched her shawl close to her chest as she followed her dear friend down the darkened alley and towards a nondescript wooden door. Drawing near, Nessie adjusted her skirts briefly before knocking quietly.
It took a few moments before the door opened a crack and a pair of hazel eyes peeked out. The woman was taller than her—then again most people were—and clothed in a simple gray dress with thick leather gloves and gray hair that was tied back neatly in a bun. She studied the two women for a beat, then two, before opening the door wider and ushering them in.
Inside was a warm contrast to the chilled outside air and as the door shut behind them, it grew dark, lit only by a few candles. The woman stood before them for a moment before returning to a table with a mortar and pestle where she was grinding—was that beetles?—into a fine powder.
"What can I do for you?" She asked, her tone firm but not unkind. Nessie lifted her veil and looked the woman dead in the eye.
"You helped me. Now I have come asking for your help in return." She said, gesturing to Adela who watched in confusion. The gray-haired woman looked at Adela as if noticing her for the first time and she had to refrain from squirming at her intense gaze.
"I did what had to be done." Was all she said and went back to grinding beetles into a powder. Nessie clenched her hands into fists,
"And I'm begging you to do it again!" Adela stepped in,
"Please. Nessie said you had a way to help me." She whispered and the woman looked at her again, taking in her swollen jaw and bruises that no doubt showered her cheekbones. With a sigh, she turned back to her table and selected a roll of paper and a pen, scrawling something in shaky handwriting.
"What is your husband's name?" Came her voice and Adela jumped, not expecting her to speak again.
"J-Jude, Jude Crowle. He-"
"That's all I need to know." The gray-haired woman said and handed her the paper. She looked down at it and nearly sobbed in relief.
"For Jude Crowle, pick up at 701 Victorian Street on March 15th at midday."
