His brown, dreary eyes contemplated his surroundings, and forcefully adjusted to
the thick cigarette smoke. He took in a large breath of the stale aura as his bronze fingers
wrapped around the shot glass which was filled to the rim with intoxicating liquor known
as Blister. With one quick movement he felt the warm alcohol coat his mouth, leaving
almost a fiery concoction in the midst of his throat.
"Abberline…" a strict, almost intimidating voice broke into his world of delusions
as he cleared his throat abruptly and slowly faced the man that stood to his right.
"Yes?" his voice was somewhat small and inaudible. He tapped the tips of his
fingers against the wooden bar and watched as the heavy set man with thick caterpillar
eyebrows lowered himself upon the stool next to him.
"There's been another accident," he waved the smoke from his face, but soon rose
to his feet, "Let's get out of here." The grimace on his face didn't abscond as he waited
for Abberline to pull his body from his stool.
"It can be said here," Abberline slid the shot glass across the bar, which luckily
stopped before it could collide with the hard wood floor behind the counter.
The man grumpily wrapped his firm hand around Abberline's upper arm and
avulsed him from his seat. Abberline caught his balance as he was pulled through the
saloon doors.
The stout man led him to the alley where he crossed his arms over his chest
captiously, "A woman by the name of Olivia Addington was murdered last night in her
bed."
Abberline ran the back of his hand across his lips and slowly began to walk away,
his feet shuffling against the loose gravel, "And…?"
"And I thought maybe you'd like to look into it," the man insisted as he kept his
pace with Abberline.
"Well you thought wrong Sergeant Godley," Abberline grinned through clenched
teeth as he ran his sweaty fingers through his hair.
"You can't hide under a rock forever Fred," Godley's voice was sharp as he now
kept up with Fred Abberline who was beginning to stride faster than before.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he took in a rather large dose of air and
forced his hands into his dark black slack pockets.
"It's about Mary Kelly, isn't it? It's been two years…" Godley surprised Fred,
who immediately stopped in his tracks. His insides felt split down the middle as he turned
towards the old coward and stepped forward, "And exactly who are you to be telling me
what it is and what it isn't?"
Godley bit down hard on his bottom lip and gestured with his shoulders, "I just
assumed-"
"Well, stop assuming," Fred's voice was now harsh and defensive as his brown
eyes pierced into Godley's beady blacks.
The moon was the only light in the street, almost setting off a glow along the path.
The clouds in the sky were beginning to close together, setting a bleak scene which soon
gave birth to inadequate raindrops.
Not too far from where they stood, a bloodcurdling scream echoed against the
cobblestone buildings. Abberline and Godley quickly glanced at one another. Abberline
grumbled beneath his breath as Godley raced in the direction of the plea, "Fred!" he
hollered behind him.
Fred slowly shook his head. He couldn't believe he was about to do what he
promised himself two years ago he wouldn't.
After running what seemed like forever, Fred propped himself against the
doorway of the tiny home which Godley was freely roaming inside. His lungs felt as if
they were collapsing after each strenuous breath of fresh air.
"You got to check this out…he strikes again," Godley mumbled beneath his
breath. His thick fingers lifted the edge of the sheet to the bed. Every ounce of courage
inside had now vanished as his opaque eyes took in the dreadful scenery.
"What?" Fred felt choked up as he made his way into the room. The sight of
electric blood caressed the walls, and the innocent white sheets were matted to the bed, "I
thought this was all over?"
"Seems not to be," Godley stood to his feet and patted his fingers against his
brown slacks, wiping the excess blood upon the cotton. He focused back on Fred
Abberline who shook his head in disgust, "Why again? What's going on with this place?"
"London will always be London, sir. It's not the place as much as it's people,"
Godley retorted as he studied the horrified look on Fred's face.
"I thought this was all over, didn't we find the man that did these brutal
murders?" Fred's eyes trailed over the small window in the corner. Across the pane were
smeared handprints of blood. The first three drawers on the mahogany dresser stood
straight out, all the white garments inside were stained the exact color as the sheets. In the
corner sat a little basinet.
Fred cringed as he noticed the white lace which hovered above the tiny infant bed
was caked from the bottom to the hood. Inside he expected to see a tiny baby, maybe
even slashed into little parts, but instead he found nothing but a wedding band.
"Do you see that?" He cautiously stepped forward and fought with himself to
keep from fingering the tiny ring, "Is this hers?"
"I don't know," Godley cleared his throat, "Abberline, this is why I need you to
get involved with this case-"
"I said I won't." Fred quickly objected, his gaze resting on Godley's relentless
face, "I promised I never would. It's been two years since I last was involved in a case
this deep, and I refuse to lose myself in another."
"You're the quickest one we've got," Godley insisted as he knelt next to the bed
and peered at what looked like a dismembered body, "I need you as my partner Fred."
His eyes gestured towards the dead woman that lay in the middle of the bed. Her hair that
was once a golden blonde was strung together, piece after piece, as if held together by
glue.
"You don't need me as anything Godley," Fred gave an exasperated sigh and
forced his way out from the tiny home. The cold wind sent chills down his spine as he
took in a large gulp of the nighttime air.
From the corner of the street came three guards, pushing their hats further on their
head and practically galloping on their feet to make it to the home. "In here!" One of the
deep voiced officers ordered.
Fred stood back and knelt next to the wall. He ran his fingers through his hair and
tried to picture being somewhere else. Anywhere, but where he was at that moment.
Flashbacks of Mary Kelly played with his mind as he squeezed his eyes tight in anguish.
He could just as easily smell the scent of her hair as he could the unholy stench of blood.
The color of her emerald green dress was still clear as ever. He could remember
the letter she had written him, insisting that if he were to want to be with her then she'd
be waiting for him. Why did he disregard it? Why didn't he just go with his senses or
why not just go with love?
"Mrs. Addington was sliced open," Godley broke Fred's concentration as he
squatted next to him, and leaned against the building for support, "she was six months
pregnant…the unborn child was cut from her stomach. Only we don't know where it was
placed."
Fred slowly looked up at Godley, "You can't be serious."
"I can be and I am," Godley insisted as he cleared his throat, "You see Fred, we
have yet another psycho on the loose, and if you aren't there to help me stop him, then he
will kill all the women of the town. We need you on our side Fred. For once think of
Mary Kelly."
"What the hell do you know about what I think?" Fred shot heavily as his eyes
pierced Godley's who immediately seemed shocked by the sudden outburst, "What I
mean is…Mary Kelly would want you to help…Mary Kelly would do anything to keep
the women of the town safe and secure…and the babies…think about it Fred."
Fred felt Godley's hand of reassurance squeeze his shoulder as he stood to his feet
and began to walk towards the building.
"Hold on…" Fred grumbled as he pulled himself from the damp street, "…lets
take a look."
Godley revealed a slight grin of satisfaction as he gave a delighted pat on Fred's
back. Fred, however, still felt unsure. Was he ready to start all over again? Was he ready
to possibly ruin his entire life, to start from scratch and live each day as if it were the last?
After all, when being involved as deeply as he was, there was no way to tell the
beginning from the end, it all seemed like a kaleidoscope of emotions, only the colors
were so different there was no way to combine them.