Mercedes stared at the words on the page before her, not wanting to accept the implications of what she read, even as she knew it was true.
"Eddowes, Katherine or Kate. The second-to-last victim of Jack the Ripper, the serial killer who operated in the Whitechapel area of London in the summer of 1888. Eddowes was one of two victims found on the same day, an occurrence which the contemporary press dubbed 'The Double Event', the other being Elizabeth "Long Liz" Stride. Found in Mitre Square, Eddowes was the most mutilated of the Ripper's victims, barring the horrifically butchered Mary Kelly. She is typically considered the fifth Ripper victim, although some still dispute whether the earliest murder, that of Martha Tabram, was the Ripper's work."
Mercedes began pulling books off the shelves with a frantic energy. How could she have missed it? She'd done her senior year criminology thesis paper on the Ripper murders. And the link was so obvious; the same MO, and the victims all shared a last name. First Claire Tabram, paralleling Martha Tabram. Then Suzanne Nichols and Annabella Chapman, just like Polly Nichols and "Dark Annie" Chapman. Then the Double Event: Margaret Stride and Catherine Eddowes, the same as Liz Stride and Kate Eddowes in London. Mother of God.
Mercedes continued to work at a frenzied pace, only slowing later as fatigue caught up with her. Finally, near dawn, it overtook her, leaving her asleep at the desk.
******
0530
The following morning
Harm shuffled into the main room of the house, less than completely awake. No matter how hard he tried or how many years he'd spent living on a military schedule, he'd never quite achieved the vaunted title of "morning person". By this point in his life, he was pretty much convinced it was something you were born with. Or weren't, in his case.
On the other hand, Sarah MacKenzie was the epitome of the term. Here it was, just after dawn, and she was already awake and eating breakfast, admiring the view out the French doors.
Speaking of admiring the view, Harm was indulging in it himself. Not the serene view of the water and sky, but of Sarah MacKenzie. Apparently CD had come up with something besides sweats for her to sleep in, and he mentally thanked his cousin for her extravagant taste in nightclothes. Otherwise he might never have been treated to the vision before him.
Mac sat at the table, munching on a muffin and dressed like an angel come to earth. A full skirted robe of shimmering white silk covered what appeared to be a gown of the same material. Wide ruffles of soft lace trimmed the neckline of the gown, as well as the hem and elbow length sleeves of the robe. With her hair still slightly mussed from sleep, she presented a picture of remarkable beauty--and one Harm could easily get used to seeing every morning.
But reality intruded, the light catching the ring on her left hand as she reached for her coffee cup, and an empty feeling settled in Harm's gut. Stop it, he chided himself. You had your chance. She's with Brumby now.
"Morning," he greeted her quietly, pushing aside his previous thoughts. "Sleep well?"
Mac looked up as he joined her at the table. "Yes, actually," she admitted. "I guess the bath did the trick," she added with a smile.
Harm returned the smile. "So where's our host?"
"Probably still asleep." She pointed to a piece of paper in the center of the table. "I found that next to the coffee."
Harm picked up the paper, grinning inwardly at Mercedes' uneven scrawl.
"Morning guys... I didn't feel like sleeping, so I'm going through some of my research stuff. Help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen.
I forgot to ask when you wanted to hit the road, so just wake me up about 15 minutes before you want to leave. I can be ready to go in about 5."
It was signed with the initials "MPRvK".
"I assume that's her," Mac said wryly when she saw Harm notice the initials.
"Yeah. I've seen her sign stuff that way," he replied. Then again, he also knew what all the letters stood for, too. He looked back up at Mac, setting aside the note. "So what's the plan, Marine?"
She looked thoughtful. "Breakfast, a quick shower, retrieve our hostess, and hit the road," she stated decisively.
"Sounds good."
**************************
Forty minutes later, clean and dressed for work, they met again in the living room. "Harm," Mac said, a tinge of concern in her voice, "Where's Mercedes?"
"In bed, I assume," he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "Why?"
"Because I just checked her bedroom, and she wasn't there."
The two officers looked at each other. "You don't think..." Mac asked uncertainly.
"Probably. Office was the second door on the left?" he asked, setting down his coffee and heading for the hall.
"Yup." Mac was right behind him.
They opened the door, and sure enough, there was Mercedes, asleep at the desk, face in a book and her glasses perched crookedly on her forehead. The room itself looked like a small tornado had hit. Files and books were scattered about, with a good four-inch layer of both spread precariously over the desktop.
Harm glanced at Mac, then reached over and gently shook the sleeping woman. "Mercedes," he said gently, "Wake up. We've got to get back to Falls Church."
"Hur..? Was...? Nein, lass mich schalfen," she mumbled sleepily.
Harm looked up at Mac, who was grinning. "Yeah, she's German," she said.
"Well, we'll have to try German, then?" he replied, grinning back as Mac's eyebrows rose. Turning back to CD, he tried again. "Mercedes," he said softly, then added sharply, "Wach auf!!"
CD sat up like a shot, eyes flying open and her glasses tumbling down to hang lopsidedly off one ear. Collecting herself, she turned to Harm. "I'll remember that," she said sternly, a disgruntled look on her face as she tried to ignore Mac's attempts not to laugh. Stretching her arms overhead, she asked, "What time is it, anyway?"
Harm didn't even bother to look at his watch, instead turning to Mac. "0627," she stated, without missing a beat.
Mercedes glanced at Mac's bare wrists. "You're not wearing a watch? How do you do that?"
Harm's eyes glinted with amusement, wondering what the response would be this time. Mac smiled, and rattled off something in what Harm thought was Russian.
Mercedes got an odd look on her face and tilted her head to the side briefly. Shrugging, she replied, "Ah...da. Spaseeba."
"You speak Russian?" Mac asked in surprise.
Mercedes nodded. "My dad traveled a lot with his job, and met a lot of people from different places. I speak a fair number of languages, actually. But enough of that," she said, remembering her previous night's activities. "We do need to get back. I've found something about this case you're not gonna believe."
TBC....
"Eddowes, Katherine or Kate. The second-to-last victim of Jack the Ripper, the serial killer who operated in the Whitechapel area of London in the summer of 1888. Eddowes was one of two victims found on the same day, an occurrence which the contemporary press dubbed 'The Double Event', the other being Elizabeth "Long Liz" Stride. Found in Mitre Square, Eddowes was the most mutilated of the Ripper's victims, barring the horrifically butchered Mary Kelly. She is typically considered the fifth Ripper victim, although some still dispute whether the earliest murder, that of Martha Tabram, was the Ripper's work."
Mercedes began pulling books off the shelves with a frantic energy. How could she have missed it? She'd done her senior year criminology thesis paper on the Ripper murders. And the link was so obvious; the same MO, and the victims all shared a last name. First Claire Tabram, paralleling Martha Tabram. Then Suzanne Nichols and Annabella Chapman, just like Polly Nichols and "Dark Annie" Chapman. Then the Double Event: Margaret Stride and Catherine Eddowes, the same as Liz Stride and Kate Eddowes in London. Mother of God.
Mercedes continued to work at a frenzied pace, only slowing later as fatigue caught up with her. Finally, near dawn, it overtook her, leaving her asleep at the desk.
******
0530
The following morning
Harm shuffled into the main room of the house, less than completely awake. No matter how hard he tried or how many years he'd spent living on a military schedule, he'd never quite achieved the vaunted title of "morning person". By this point in his life, he was pretty much convinced it was something you were born with. Or weren't, in his case.
On the other hand, Sarah MacKenzie was the epitome of the term. Here it was, just after dawn, and she was already awake and eating breakfast, admiring the view out the French doors.
Speaking of admiring the view, Harm was indulging in it himself. Not the serene view of the water and sky, but of Sarah MacKenzie. Apparently CD had come up with something besides sweats for her to sleep in, and he mentally thanked his cousin for her extravagant taste in nightclothes. Otherwise he might never have been treated to the vision before him.
Mac sat at the table, munching on a muffin and dressed like an angel come to earth. A full skirted robe of shimmering white silk covered what appeared to be a gown of the same material. Wide ruffles of soft lace trimmed the neckline of the gown, as well as the hem and elbow length sleeves of the robe. With her hair still slightly mussed from sleep, she presented a picture of remarkable beauty--and one Harm could easily get used to seeing every morning.
But reality intruded, the light catching the ring on her left hand as she reached for her coffee cup, and an empty feeling settled in Harm's gut. Stop it, he chided himself. You had your chance. She's with Brumby now.
"Morning," he greeted her quietly, pushing aside his previous thoughts. "Sleep well?"
Mac looked up as he joined her at the table. "Yes, actually," she admitted. "I guess the bath did the trick," she added with a smile.
Harm returned the smile. "So where's our host?"
"Probably still asleep." She pointed to a piece of paper in the center of the table. "I found that next to the coffee."
Harm picked up the paper, grinning inwardly at Mercedes' uneven scrawl.
"Morning guys... I didn't feel like sleeping, so I'm going through some of my research stuff. Help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen.
I forgot to ask when you wanted to hit the road, so just wake me up about 15 minutes before you want to leave. I can be ready to go in about 5."
It was signed with the initials "MPRvK".
"I assume that's her," Mac said wryly when she saw Harm notice the initials.
"Yeah. I've seen her sign stuff that way," he replied. Then again, he also knew what all the letters stood for, too. He looked back up at Mac, setting aside the note. "So what's the plan, Marine?"
She looked thoughtful. "Breakfast, a quick shower, retrieve our hostess, and hit the road," she stated decisively.
"Sounds good."
**************************
Forty minutes later, clean and dressed for work, they met again in the living room. "Harm," Mac said, a tinge of concern in her voice, "Where's Mercedes?"
"In bed, I assume," he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "Why?"
"Because I just checked her bedroom, and she wasn't there."
The two officers looked at each other. "You don't think..." Mac asked uncertainly.
"Probably. Office was the second door on the left?" he asked, setting down his coffee and heading for the hall.
"Yup." Mac was right behind him.
They opened the door, and sure enough, there was Mercedes, asleep at the desk, face in a book and her glasses perched crookedly on her forehead. The room itself looked like a small tornado had hit. Files and books were scattered about, with a good four-inch layer of both spread precariously over the desktop.
Harm glanced at Mac, then reached over and gently shook the sleeping woman. "Mercedes," he said gently, "Wake up. We've got to get back to Falls Church."
"Hur..? Was...? Nein, lass mich schalfen," she mumbled sleepily.
Harm looked up at Mac, who was grinning. "Yeah, she's German," she said.
"Well, we'll have to try German, then?" he replied, grinning back as Mac's eyebrows rose. Turning back to CD, he tried again. "Mercedes," he said softly, then added sharply, "Wach auf!!"
CD sat up like a shot, eyes flying open and her glasses tumbling down to hang lopsidedly off one ear. Collecting herself, she turned to Harm. "I'll remember that," she said sternly, a disgruntled look on her face as she tried to ignore Mac's attempts not to laugh. Stretching her arms overhead, she asked, "What time is it, anyway?"
Harm didn't even bother to look at his watch, instead turning to Mac. "0627," she stated, without missing a beat.
Mercedes glanced at Mac's bare wrists. "You're not wearing a watch? How do you do that?"
Harm's eyes glinted with amusement, wondering what the response would be this time. Mac smiled, and rattled off something in what Harm thought was Russian.
Mercedes got an odd look on her face and tilted her head to the side briefly. Shrugging, she replied, "Ah...da. Spaseeba."
"You speak Russian?" Mac asked in surprise.
Mercedes nodded. "My dad traveled a lot with his job, and met a lot of people from different places. I speak a fair number of languages, actually. But enough of that," she said, remembering her previous night's activities. "We do need to get back. I've found something about this case you're not gonna believe."
TBC....