Chapter Twenty Six

“Thank you.” James said with a smile to the older gentleman behind the library’s desk. The librarian nodded in passing, returning to sorting books on his cart and James quickly exited the Guildhall University library.

“What are you hoping to get from these books?” Anne asked. She’d rather enjoyed the trip to the library, having wandered stacks near where James was digging. She’d actually seen a few philosophy books she was curious about, as well as a few slim volumes of poetry, and those had joined the drier reading of her beloveds.

The man in question shrugged. “We don’t have many students reading law so I’m afraid not as much as I hope. Still, I’ve always followed the philosophy that if you wish to understand a trade that study and action go hand in hand. I have been playing detective quite a bit these last weeks, but without researching the topic.”

“Well you’re definitely going to remedy that oversight.” Anne observed as he slipped the volumes into the saddle bags of his odd bicycle. She noticed they weren’t anywhere near as big on the inside as their external looks suggested. “Is that where you hide the clockworks?”

“Yes.” He said, throwing his leg over the seat and bouncing the three times Anne had come to expect. “Your seat awaits, Madame.”

“How gallant. Now if it wasn’t for the fact that you enjoy a pretty lady on your bicycle.”

“Can you blame me?”

Both were in bright moods in spite of their dark hunt. They’d save a life the night before, and a news paper reported that Jack had been interrupted before he could kill another victim only six blocks away from where he’d lost Elbert. It seemed he had grown over confident, and so there was hope he’d stay abed and lick his wounds.

The ride back to the cobblers shop was uneventful and James led Anne into their home, finding Emily sitting at his desk. She was eating a sandwich of roast, while reading the same notebook Elbert had been poking about in nearly two weeks before. “What are you doing?” James asked.

“Eating.” The girl replied with a grin. “So, tell me, how does it feel to be a hero?”

“Pardon?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, and held up the article. James scanned the text, and groaned. “You must be joking.”

“Professor, why do you purchase a newspaper every morning, and never read it?” Emily asked. “These things would be less surprising to you if you did.”

“Habit, caused by a father who sent me out to fetch his for most my young life.” James admitted.

Anne chuckled, before she asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Alice, it seems, felt a need to tell the press about her two saviors. The heroic and reckless Elbert and the clever doctor James. She gave descriptions, if you can believe that!”

“She didn’t tell the press where you lived, did you?” Anne asked, covering her mouth. It was hiding the laugh that was trying to escape.

“Luckily, it seems not, since I haven’t been assaulted by news men.” James muttered. “Still, I expect you to make that salve of hers uncomfortably stinging!”

“Yes dear.” Anne replied with a smirk.

James, turning back to Emily and his desk, dropped the pile of books onto the oaken surface. “Since you’re here, you can help me learn all about the detectives’ trade.”

“Sorry Professor, but I can’t.” Emily replied, standing. “Actually, to be fair, I was about to leave. I almost had to leave a note.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Just everything.” She sighed dramatically. “I was going to go to dinner with Lawrence, when the bloody church sent someone by. It seems that some of the welds didn’t hold, and they’ve got smoke filling their rectory. Da is off, out of the city working on a mess of a small locomotive we’re building for the railroad as a maintenance skip, so I’m going to have to go deal with it.”

“St. Mary’s? In Whitechapel?”

“The very one. I’m going now, but I’ll likely not return before dark. Can you come to walk me home?”

“Sure. I’ll come now!” He said, picking up a book to bring with him.

“Thanks, but no.” She sighed. “I have enough trouble with people accepting me as the person to work on their boilers and stoves as it is, without a man along for them to ask to oversee me. You’re prone to trying to improve things, so I’d rather do it myself.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Oh.” James replied. “Well… I’ll do a bit of reading before heading over then.”

“Good. I’ll wait till midnight at the most, before I’ll have to try and get home. Don’t make me forge those unholy streets alone, professor. The pimps might get impure ideas about me.”

“I’ll be along. Don’t worry.”

“James!”

Anne’s yell, the second he realized absently, pulled him away from the text he was reading. “Yes?”

“It’s near eleven! You were supposed to do a ‘Bit’ of reading then go get Emily!”

James gazed around in confusion, and realized that the shop was dark except for the small table lamp he was reading beside. “Oh dear. Why didn’t you tell me it was getting late?”

“I fell asleep.” Anne admitted with a sigh. “Now get up and start running, mister.”

“We’ll make it afore midnight.” James assured her, though he did rise and grab his coat from the night before quickly.

Soon they were hustling through the London night, James cursing as he limped slightly. “Bloody fog. Bloody cobbles. What is wrong with the roads today?”

“It’s the Horseless carriages and handsomes.” Anne observed. “They spin, instead of stomp like a proper horse, so they pull them loose.”

James grunted then shrugged. “I admit, for carts I think horses are still superior. That’s why you don’t see most farmers and warehouse men using steam wagons. There’s to much time sitting and waiting for them, and shutting them down only to have to wait for the fire to heat the boiler again later is inefficient.”

“Have you thought of trying to build a clockwork wagon, like your bicycle?”

“No.” James said, shaking his head. “The mechanisms for the bike were the devils own to build, and honestly are probably about the largest I could make. I could, possibly, get a two person tricycle rig going, but nothing more than that.”

“It’s a shame.”

“Indeed.” James agreed. Then he frowned, and began digging in his pocket. Anne didn’t notice until she realized he stopped and she had gone a few steps past him. “Hurry along James, we’re only a block away.”

“Something in my pocket is shaking.” James said as way of explanation, digging out the small compass finally. He stared at it in shock, as the hand was spinning around like a dervish. “He’s here.”

“Who?” Anne asked when a scream pierced the air. James, his blood running cold, recognized the voice. “Emily!”

He took off like a shot, Anne a cool breeze against his heels. Rounding a corner he found Lord Jack standing over a prone Emily, blood pooling beneath her and seeping into the stones.

“You bastard!” He yelled, plowing into the man and delivering a series of savage punches to his ribs. He grunted in pain as the killers cane crashed down across his spine, sending him to the stones. He groaned, rolling and preparing to fend off an attack but instead he heard an evil laugh, and foot steps fleeing into the night.

“James! She’s still alive! Get over here so I can tell you how to help her!” Anne’s terrified voice is all that kept him from giving chase. For the second time in two nights he had to make a choice. The life of an innocent, or bringing down the monster.

If it had been another stranger, he might have pursued the man, but it was Emily lying on the stones. He turned, and was quickly beside her.

“Put pressure on the wound, we have to keep her blood in her!” Anne barked, her worry making her tone sharp. Lord Jack hadn’t gotten her jugular vein, but it she was still bleeding profusely.

“The bleeding isn’t stopping!”

“Bloody hell I can see Anne, that canna be good.” muttered Emily groggily, before she passed out.

Anne placed her hands through James’s and into Emily’s wound, both living humans shuddered at the cold of her chill touch. It was one of the only times being a ghost was half useful, the cold of her spectral form would slow the bleeding.

“James, I need you to stay calm.” Anne said, noting the near panic on his face. She didn’t feel calm either, and badly wanted to panic at seeing the vibrant young redhead near pale as death but she knew she didn’t dare. “You are my hands James. Did you pack your doctors kit?”

“Yes.”

“You need to fetch it.”

“But if I remove pressure.”

“Then fetch it quickly! We need to bind that wound and get her to a hospital!”

James fumbled for the kit with one hand, blood staining his hands, shirt, and pants. He managed to pull the leather bundle out with the one hand, rolling it open. “Alice didn’t bleed this much!”

“Alice wasn’t as severely hurt.” Anne admitted. “James, I need you to wash the wound out with alcohol. I need to see the wound so I can decide the best way to treat it.”

James grabbed the metal flask, the paused. For a moment he forgot that Anne’s arm wasn’t a physical obstacle. “Anne please take your hand out of her, it-“

“It’s saving her life! My cold is slowing the bleeding, now do what I told you!” Anne watched as the alcohol poured down the young girl’s throat, caring away a pink river. She knelt close to the wound examining it.

“We are lucky. Jack’s knife is still bloody sharp, so the cut is clean. We won’t need to stitch it.” She observed. “Remember Alice? We are going to do the same thing here. Take some of the cotton and place it into wound. Make sure to cover all of the open flesh, and then we pack the wound in with more cotton,” She watched him as he followed her instructions, shivering occasionally as his arm passed through hers. “Now bind the bandaging in with a long strip. Don’t tie it to tight, or you’ll choke her.”

Both of them had become so focused on what they were doing that they didn’t hear the running footsteps that came up behind James. A policeman, seeing the blood but not the bandages, knocked James unconscious with his billy club before pulling him away from the girl. “Looks like we finally caught you in the act Saucy jack!” The man crowed as his partner knelt next to the unconscious girl. Anne’s eyes were wide with horror as she watched helplessly.

“Chris, I don’t think-” the younger cop started.

“Shut it! Get that girl to the hospital. We will need her to stand as a witness to this man’s villainy.”

The younger cop began carefully lifting Emily up while making sure not to disturb the bandage. “Sir, this man was-”

“Caught in the act! I know, seeing as I caught him! Now go, I can take this blighter to the yard.” The large man rolled the unconscious James onto his back and bound his hands roughly behind him, before he grabbed James by the collar of his coat and began dragging him over the cobles of Whitechapel, pulling Anne from Emily as he walked further away. Anne chased after them, trying to think of anything she could do to help as one of James’s shoes was pulled off by the cobbles.