Chapter 6

Joe found Druitt in an office that, from the lack of personal touches, almost certainly wasn't his own, pouring over files. The man still looked like death warmed over but, suddenly, that wasn't all Joe was seeing in him. He tapped lightly on the doorframe.

Druitt looked up with a tired smile. "Do come in, Detective. How can I be of service?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. Will said 'great when not brain-damaged' so…

"This is going to sound strange, Mr. Druitt," he began.

"John is fine. It's what all my friends call me."

"John," Joe repeated, nodding. "It's actually kind of about that. John wouldn't be your middle name, would it?"

Druitt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at Joe, his smile was wry and self-deprecating. "It's times like this when I loathe the internet."

His eyes widened. "You mean you are…"

"Montague John Druitt, aka 'Jack the Ripper', at your service, Detective." He sighed again, looking mildly irritated. "For the record, I did not assign myself that ridiculous nickname. You look as if you're feeling poorly. Have a seat and I'll try to explain."

Joe did sit down, mostly because he didn't think he could have remained standing. He didn't want to listen to a word one of history's most notorious serial killers had to say but, once Druitt began to explain the biological ramifications of frequent teleportation, the havoc those changes wreaked on your mind, he was hooked.

Nor were the initial psychosis and murder all he had to talk about. Druitt's 'cure', while painful to hear spelled out in no uncertain terms, was pretty damned amazing.

He frowned, trying to make sense of what Druitt had to tell him. It was so amazing it was hard to accept even if Druitt did seem to be being perfectly straightforward.

"So let me get this straight. You used to be Jack the Ripper, but you're better now, because you were tortured by Nikola Tesla, the inventor, who just so happens to also be a vampire?" he asked, wondering when he had bought into the ideas the Sanctuary forced him to accept so completely that things like that stopped sounding absurd. Hell, he'd seen the electricity thing firsthand. Why not vampirism?

Druitt smiled apologetically, nodding. "That about sums it up, Detective, yes."

"Jesus wept."

"Yes." Druitt's expression turned grim. "That also sums it up."

"And Ashley's your daughter?"

"Strange as it seems since it's been more than 125 years since I laid a hand on her mother, yes." He nodded, looking troubled and picking up a file-folder from those scattered across the desk.

"Ego formation?" Joe read off the tab on the folder. Others bore labels such as 'Perry/cognition', 'Paiget/development', 'attachment', 'nature/nurture', 'social contract'. "You're a psychologist?"

Jack the Ripper was a shrink? Interesting.

"No, not remotely, but I've always had an interest in developmental issues. At present, I'm hoping I may be able to assist William somehow with regards to Ashley's reeducation by the Cabal." He closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled up at Joe. "You see, I'm frequently remembered by history as a barrister and not a very good one at that. Fewer people know that I was also a schoolteacher, which was my real passion in life. Hardly suited to my social standing, but I never cared. I quite enjoy the company of children, if only because they're easier to understand and predict."

Jack the Ripper, lover of small children? Freaky. And disturbing given the access that job would have given him to kids.

"Did you ever, uh…"

Druitt's face reflected obvious distaste. "Good heavens, no!" He shook his head, expression adamant. "Children are straightforward, innocent, and therefore to be admired and protected. Helen and I always planned on having a half-score underfoot some day," he added with a fond smile. His smile turned more sardonic. "Although, if I'd known what kind of adult Ashley would grow into, I might have been more faint-of-heart on the subject."

Joe chuckled at that in spite of himself, shaking his head. Having met her, he knew she was a handful, the kind of daughter a Victorian gentleman would absolutely dread ending up with.

"Will says you're directing the effort to find and bring her home?"

"That's correct, Detective," he agreed. "William takes his responsibility to Ashley's mother very seriously but he has responsibilities far more pressing than recovering one lost lamb."

"Even when that 'lost lamb' is the woman's daughter?"

"Especially in such a case," Druitt answered quietly. "Helen is an admirably passionate woman but I know from firsthand experience that she can allow her affections to blind her to common sense. William is here as much to stop her as he is to help her. He… brings her back down to Earth as it were. When she loses a sense of perspective, he reminds her of her priorities. Ashley is, by all accounts, a dear child but she is incidental to the survival of the Sanctuary network."

Joe frowned. The other man's voice was soft and pained but he clearly believed what he was saying.

"If her recovery isn't important," he began carefully.

Druitt laughed, a low and bitter chuckle. "The matter's complicated. Suffice it to say that it would be most inadvisable to trust a man with my mental health history with any operation vital to the operation of such an organization at such a time."

Joe started to nod, then frowned. "Yet they seem to have no problem trusting the guy you claim tortured you."

"As I said, complicated. Nikola is not the first man I would chose for an ally if the decision were mine but he's in as much danger from the Cabal as any of us. Which means, for the time being, he can be relied upon and perhaps even trusted."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Don't mistake me, Detective. I wish the man dead. But, if he helps Helen cause the people who took my daughter to suffer, then I am more than willing to tolerate his presence for the time being."

"Just like that?"

"Outside of blood relatives, I have truly loved three people in my life. My dearest friend is dead, my daughter stolen from me. These two losses combine to have Helen in such a pain as there can be no words for. And it is all the fault of the Cabal. There's very little I wouldn't do at this point to destroy them, even if it means tolerating Nikola Tesla's presence under this roof."

"And once this temporary truce is over?"

"I have no intention of harming him unless it should become necessary in self-defense. MJ Druitt is dead at Nikola's hands and all John wants from life is to have my family back. I bear him no grudge. Eventually, I may even bring myself to feel something akin to gratitude towards him."

Joe stared.

"You think me very strange," Druitt murmured, nodding knowingly. "All of us, I daresay. And, to a degree, you're correct. We do play by different rules. We have to." He gestured around. "The stakes are simply too high. We can't afford to stand on convention when so many lives depend on what happens here in the days and weeks to come."

"Uh…"

He gave Joe a gentle smile. "I take it I'm not what you expected given my reputation. Coming here expecting to meet a notorious serial killer and instead finding a pragmatic and reasonable former schoolmaster must have been jarring for you."

"The whole idea of you sitting here is jarring all on its own," Joe admitted honestly. "To say nothing of the fact that you're got the prototype for every mad scientist in the past hundred years downstairs. I accept it up here." He tapped his forehead. "But it doesn't feel real, either."

"If none of this is real to you, Detective, that's a blessing. Take it as such," Druitt advised mildly.

"While all of you suffer?"

"We will continue to suffer whether you are forced to accept the harsh realities of our world or not. The only thing I ask of you is that you do your best to make this time easier for young William. He's taken quite the burden on himself since this began, and not just his normal duties to Helen. He seems to have assumed responsibility for her mental health and that of Henry Foss in addition to everything else."

"Above and beyond what you said earlier about it being his job to bring her back down to Earth?"

"Considerably beyond that, yes. Are you close?"

"Not really, but I do like him. I'll keep an eye out for him."

"My thanks. What can you tell me about his history of drug use?"

"His…" Joe stared. "Uh, I always knew he was on some stuff but that's kind of between him and his doctor."

"So nothing beyond what he was prescribed?"

"Man, I've never even known Will to drink," he answered, shaking his head. "Man takes care of himself, especially for a desk jockey. You think he's using anything stronger than energy drinks and you're probably barking up the wrong tree."

"Probably?" Druitt repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"What is he to you?" Joe asked instead of answering. "Why do you care? Because he's close to your ex?"

"Close," he laughed, shaking his head. "Based on my own observations of their interactions, I'd say the boy worships her. And that's a dangerous way for any man to live."

"Pretty harsh condemnation to level against the mother of your child," he murmured, shifting uneasily.

"Don't mistake me. I feel nothing but respect and love for Helen. But I have seen firsthand in myself and in my friends what loving her can do to a man's life."

"You saying she's dangerous to him?"

She will never do anything but strive to protect and nurture him."

He frowned blankly. "I'm not sure what you're getting at. You talk about her like she only wants what's best for him, but…"

"And she does. Unfortunately, he also only wants what is best for her. Which will lead him to take risks, dare where no wise man would."

Before Joe could answer, Henry was entering the office. "Hey, Druitt, can I get a lift to Bogota? Oh, sorry. Didn't know you had company. Hey, Joe."

"Hey, Henry."

"We'll discuss this later," Druitt told Joe, climbing to his feet. "Bogota, you say? In Columbia?"

"Yeah." Henry nodded, hefting a backpack in his hands. "I need to discuss some things with a contact and I'd rather not do it over the phone or computer. Magnus said know the way?"

"I do. If you'll excuse us, Detective."

Druitt inclined his head to Joe, grasped Henry by the shoulder, and the two men vanished in a golden shimmer of light.

"Damn," Joe muttered, shaking his head and climbed to his feet, turning Druitt's words over in his mind. Will had always been on the over-enthusiastic side, but he was no idiot, either. Druitt was probably just equal parts projecting and being jealous.

Besides, Joe had enough on his plate liaising between the PD and the Sanctuary without looking for additional trouble.