“I believe you. How about word on the street about an actress named Clarice Chapman going missing?”
He scowled. “Nay.”
“Another actress—Isabella Russo? Or any other women missing? Actresses, prostitutes?”
Bear rolled his eyes. “Blimey, who do ye think I am? Chits come and go all the time. I ain’t their keeper.”
“How about women found drained of their blood?”
“W’ot?” His eyes widened, and Kendra thought she saw a flicker of interest stir behind his flat gaze.
“Clarice Chapman’s body was pulled from the Thames. They called her a mermaid in the papers.” Kendra watched him closely, saw recognition flash briefly across his face. “She didn’t die of drowning, though. She died of exsanguination—someone drained all her blood.”
“Christ. Why’d they do that?”
“She had syphilis. I think someone was experimenting with ways to cure her.”
“What kind of ningimmer would bleed anyone dry?”
Kendra had to ask: “Ningimmer?”
“A leech that treats someone with the French Pox.”
“That’s what I need to find out,” she said. “You’re in a position to hear things, Bear. I’d appreciate it if you let me know if you hear about any other women . . .” Was there politically correct language to describe a woman in the lower classes? “Women who arenotgentry morts disappearing or being found dead under suspicious circumstances. Or if you hear about anything odd going on.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Odd, how?”
“Maybe someone promising to cure syphilis or some other disease.”
“There’s no cure for the French Pox.”
“That doesn’t mean someone isn’t promising one,” she said. “I’m just asking you to keep your eyes and ears open. Also, there’s another girl—Edwina. A seamstress from the Bowden Theater. Young, with a scarred face from a fire. We had reports that she might be somewhere on the docks. I’m looking for her, but so is the killer. I’d appreciate you letting me know if you hear anything that could help find her.” She swung herself up into the hackney. “Send word to Number 15 Bedford Square.”
She shut the door, only for Bear to knock on the window. She fumbled with the latch, finally dropping down the glass pane.
“What?”
“Ye still with yer tulip?” he demanded.
“I am.” She rapped on the ceiling and the hackney started to pull away from the curb. She popped her head out the window to flash the crime lord a grin. “Imarriedthe tulip.”
Chapter 29
And she had to admit that she was a little bit nervous how that tulip would react to her meeting with Bear. The relief that rushed through her was almost embarrassing when she returned home and learned that Alec hadn’t yet arrived. She had every right to pursue the investigation as she saw fit. And how many criminals had she pumped for information in the twenty-first century? If Alec didn’t understand that . . . well, she’d deal with it.
And she’d have to deal with it. The servants clearly already knew about her errand. She could see it in Wakely’s face, although he’d never question her about her decision to send Coachman John home without her. But that didn’t mean they didn’t talk.
Needing a jolt of caffeine to shake off the afternoon slump, Kendra ordered coffee for the library. Ten minutes later, she was drinking it while she considered the Metamorphosis Club.
Metamorphosis meant change, transformation. Its members believed that science and medicine needed to evolve. Most were satisfied to keep their ideas to the theoretical realm, gathering to puff on cigars, drink brandy, and discuss possibilities. What if at least one member wasn’t content to simplytalkabout what could be done? It wasn’t too much of a stretch to think they’d transformed talk into real-life research, using human beings as guinea pigs.
She knew what it was like to be a guinea pig.
She took a swallow of coffee and forced herself to consider Clarice. She hadn’t been snatched off the streets. She’d volunteered for the experimental treatment. Why wouldn’t she? People trusted doctors. And she had a fatal disease. What did she have to lose?
Nothing, except her life.
Syphilis would eventually kill her, but a person could live with the disease for years, even decades. The killer had robbed her of that time.
