A Night in September, and a Shabby-Genteel Fellow

It didn't take long for the inhabitants of Whitechapel and surrounding to become desperate and accusatory of nearly everyone they fancied suspicious. There were daily accusations and finger pointing. People walked in hurried manners, the shops closed early, and the women continued to walk, although the crowds of them were decidedly thinner.

Fandral was, quite frequently now, uneasy and rather desperate to get away from Asgard. He would check in on Mary, and give her some money to keep her off the streets. Loki said nothing about his desire to leave a bit earlier, understanding his unease and care for Mary.

Loki suspected that there might be a bit more than casual concern for a dear friend, but kept his thoughts to himself. It wasn't his business.

There were rumors that began to circulate…one involved the possibility of a woman having committed the murders, the other of a witness describing a fellow around Hanbury Street at 5:30 am. He was described as a dark-ish man, with a shabby-genteel appearance.

Loki had heard this witness, but dismissed her after he had heard Dr. Philips's claim that the murder must have taken place at least an hour previous to the sighting.

Jane was less convinced.

"What does he know, anyway?"

"Oh, you are quite right, Jane. Obviously a day laborer knows much more than a registered surgeon about times of death and such. We should find that witness and demand her help. She would surely lead us directly to the villain."

"Stop it," she spat. "My point is, is that nothing should be dismissed. Everything should be treated as a possible clue to the killer," she sat down. They were in Asgard, and it was Friday. Loki was beginning to see to the closing up of shop, and it was the first real conversation they had had about their investigation since the inquest.

"Wonderful. Let's then interview every merchant in the Market to determine what fellows of a shabby-genteel appearance have purchased. Perhaps he fancies potatoes. Perhaps he was preparing a stew of uterus and potato," he smiled.

"That's disgusting and I won't comment on your attempts at sarcasm when such vile things are uttered from your lips," Jane crossed her arms in front of her.

Loki cleared his throat. "Apologies. Perhaps that was a bit far."

"Indeed," said she. "Well, we are going to attempt this tonight, yes?" she straightened her hat. She had put on some rouge and changed her clothes.

"As you like," Loki began unbuttoning the top of his shirt, took an old scarf out of a drawer behind the counter, and rubbed some dirt on his face.

Jane laughed.

"What?" he squinted at her.

"Well," and she stood. "It's just funny, isn't it? You're always rather refined. To see you thus is funny."

"I daresay you look ridiculous as well. You look like a tomato with that rouge."

"Humph," she smiled. "Ready, Your Highness?"

"As ever," and he opened the door for her with a smirk, locking up behind them. "Shall we meet up once more in an hour?" he knew fully well that he would not be letting her out of his sight, but he needed to not let on that that was the case.

"An hour. At my shop," she said, and turned toward Whitechapel Road. The air was thinner, for though the midday sun still heated the stones underfoot with ferocity, by the time the orb had made its way across the sky a bit, a chill could be felt.

Jane sighed as she walked. She never ventured out much beyond the immediate area around Spitalfields…mostly because she was wary, but also she knew that Loki followed her. She wanted to help him keep his guise that he was protecting her, so she made certain that there was ample hiding places for him along her route.

He was a funny man!

The Britannia was often where she would go, it was a decent enough pub as far as location went. So she headed there.

Jane walked in and sat at a table in the corner. There wasn't a lot of people there yet, many hadn't gotten done with their workday. She strained her ears to listen to the talk, but the mutterings were too low. No doubt Annie Chapman was still the main topic of conversation.

She sat there a moment, went up to the bar, ordered an ale, then sat back down.

Not long following, a pair of workers came in, being rather loud. No doubt they had already hit a pub or two…

"'e says it be a girl!"

"Naw…can' be."

"I swear it! 'e says de girl waved a knife a' 'im an' says she be meanin' ta cut his throat."

Jane was listening intently now…she had heard that there was a rumor that a woman was a suspect. This must be the woman in question…she took a long draught of ale and leaned slightly closer.

"'e says jus' de other day…'e was chasin' ole Leather Apron, and den dis girl came outta a shop in de Market…she said she'd rip 'is throat…"

…and Jane's breath hitched. They meant her.

She was suddenly desperately uncomfortable. She, a suspect…? What should she do? Her palms were sweating…she downed her ale and looked around her. No one was watching. She could just slip away.

Jane got up, side eyeing the table of workers next to her.

In her haste and distraction, she walked into another man stationed at the bar.

"Pardon, guvna…" she rasped.

"Now, 'o be you…?" he turned toward her, and eyed her.

"No one, but if ye be intrested…me man is jus' outside 'ere. Talk ova me fee," she replied.

"Oh, ya 'ave a man, do ye? Well, I don' need no par' of dat."

"Ya certain? I 'aven't got no complaints before…" she smiled. She almost wanted to take him to Loki.

"Too much trouble wit a man…get ye gone…" he waved her off.

Jane shrugged, then went through the door. She was still in a tizzy over the news that people were suspicious of her….

…where was he…she listened for the bells…none. Jane looked up and down the road…there were some day laborers leaving for home, some merchants were still about, the carts were mostly still up. Must be just before six, then. She had left Loki almost an hour ago.

She decided to get herself into an alley and fix herself before heading toward her shop. It wouldn't do to leave and head straight for a closed up shop with a key. It could blow her cover.

Jane went to a darkened part of the alley and began to button herself up, took her hat off and pulled her hair into a tighter bun.

It was then she heard it…

"And what did you say about the lady in question?"

"I didn' say nufin, guvna."

"Do you know who she is?"

"Naw, I don' know des types…if ye be lookin' fer…" he paused. "Dat kinda evenin' ya need to go to da pubs. De ladies ye be talkin' 'bout…dey be in de pubs now…"

"But Miss Kelly. Is she in the pubs…?"

Jane noted that he almost seemed wistful.

"I dunno no Kelly. Sorry, guvna." and Jane heard him leave.

She swallowed…she was alone in the alley with the man she was certain was the same as the one Loki and she had heard speaking just a couple of weeks ago. Her heart was thrumming…she backed closer to the wall…she began to slide along it, edging her way to the corner.

And then she heard the man approaching softly, his shoes crunching the soot of the alley, disregarded and dirty.

"I know you're there," he said.

Oh god… Jane quickly thought over her options…face him, or run for it. That was it. He's the killer…a voice said.

And if he was, she was no match for him, she was certain.

RUN!

Jane bolted out the other end of the alley in a frenzy…she lifted her skirts so that she had more range of motion for her legs…

SCREAM! she thought.

"LOKI!" she yelled. It was the first thing that came to mind.

Her feet pounded the stone road, she didn't hear anything but her breath coming steady, in great gasps, her back wet with the sweat of her exercise…

…and her ankle turned in between the a set of stones, and she toppled to the ground, her ankle smarting instantly.

She broke the fall with her arms outstretched, and she turned in terror to find a man running toward her.

She screamed, crying out, "Help! Oh, help me!" she tried to stand, but her ankle wouldn't yield…she started to crawl on all fours, weeping…

"Jane!"

Loki…and she smiled through her tears, turning toward him.

He reached her and knelt beside her. "What happened?!" he was desperate, holding his hand out, and helping her to stand.

But Jane was crying too much to answer.

"Can you walk?"

She shook her head in response…so he lifted her.

Loki looked up and down the alley she had turned down. They were nearest to the apothecary, so he headed there, Jane a bundle of quaking sobs in his arms. He didn't think beyond that, keeping his focus on holding her close.

He hadn't seen where she had went after she left the pub, he was talking to a man about the shabby-genteel fellow spotted by the dubious witness.

Then he heard her scream not ten minutes later.

They reached her shop and he placed her to the ground. Jane wiped her tears and handed him the key from her leather pouch.

Loki opened the door and led her inside, Jane sporting a fierce limp. She sat at a chair. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"What for?" he went in the back for some brew. He was confused, upset, upset that he was confused…but he thought the he should cool Jane's injury. He wondered briefly how he would get her home. Perhaps they should have gone there.

He reentered the shop to find Jane crying in earnest. "Oh, Loki…so much happened!" he went over to her and handed her some brew, and looked at her leg.

"Where does it hurt?"

"My ankle."

Loki nodded, knelt down, and began to wrap it with the rag. "Tell me what happened."

"Well," she swallowed, beginning. "I was at the Britannia, and I heard some men talking about the woman that the locals are suspicious of…"

He looked up at her, rocked back and sat on the floor, raising his eyebrows in question.

"They think it's me."

He stared at her a moment, then began to laugh.

"What?" Jane demanded.

"You?" he said between gasps. "They suspect you? Why?" and he wiped his eyes from the streaming laughter at the thought. He stopped when he realized that Jane didn't share his amusement. He cleared his throat. "Go on."

"Well…that day that John was brought in for questioning…I might have…well…" her eyes fell. "I might have threatened to rip his throat or some such thing."

Loki stood, glaring at her, and went to lean against the counter. "You know, I think I may owe you an apology, Jane. You are not nearly as bright as I had thought."

'Shut up Loki. This is serious!"

"Of course it is. Which is why I cannot fathom why you would be so incredibly stupid and say something like 'rip your throat.' That takes a certain mind to come up with that in the present climate."

Jane huffed and glared. "Fine. You're right. But what's done is done. And now…well…it's not clear that they know Jane Foster, apothecary is who uttered those words, but it wouldn't take much to figure it out."

"No…we must watch you more closely," he said mostly to himself.

Jane eyed him crookedly, but continued. "Then I left, and I went to the alley just round the corner, and I heard a man talking with a different sort of accent to a laborer about Mary Kelly again…and then the worker left, and I stayed…but I think he heard me because he said," she swallowed. "'I know you're there.' That's when I ran for it."

Loki just stared at her for a moment. He had heard her yell for him, specifically. "You are in great danger, Jane."

"Yes."

"Let's wait here a bit, then walk to Asgard. There are ways to make us comfortable there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Jane…" he stepped toward her, and looked at her very directly. "That we will be spending the night at the bookshop."

Wide-eyed, she responded, "You and I? Alone?"

He smiled. "Does that frighten you?"

"Yes," she immediately responded. "I mean…no. Not exactly."

"Well then. Let's get you some tonic. And then we will see to our beds."

He left, and Jane swallowed.

She would be spending the night with Loki.