“Who cares, Bernard?” Mother asked as she pulled back and turned to him. “She’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
“Her reputation will be in ruins once people hear of this,” Father said.
“At least that monster didn’t take her and—” Mother’s voice broke on another sob.
“I will do right by her,” Austen said, standing stiff beside me. “I love Kate—”
“Where were you?” Father demanded again.
Austen glanced down at me, but I put my hand over his to still his response.
Instead, I took a step forward. “I wanted to run away.” I couldn’t tell them the truth. I didn’t want them to know that Mary lived. The world, even my parents, needed to think she’d died. It wasthe only way she would ever be safe from Rothschild or the Freemasons. “But Austen insisted that we return.”
“You should have stayed away,” Father said, anger making his face red. “And never came back.”
“Bernard!” Mother took my hand. “You don’t mean that. We’ve already lost one daughter. I cannot abide losing another.”
“At leasthedidn’t get her,” Mr. Maybrick said, and I suspected that he wasn’t speaking of Austen. Was he talking about Jack the Ripper? Did they know his identity, and could I get it out of them?
“Have you heard about Mary yet?” Father asked, his gaze clouding with pain.
“Do not repeat it,” Mother said, putting her handkerchief to her lips again. “I cannot bear to hear it again.”
“She was murdered in her bed last night,” Father said anyway.
“It’s all your fault,” Mother hurled at him.
“Quiet.” Father stared at her. “Or you will regret speaking.”
Mother fled the room, weeping, leaving Austen and me alone with Father and Mr. Maybrick.
“Mary is dead?” I asked, trying to look devastated, so they wouldn’t question me.
“Murdered by Jack the Ripper,” Mr. Maybrick said, disgusted. “In the most gruesome way you can imagine.”
Austen put his arm around me, but he asked the men, “WhoisJack? Someone you know?”
Father and Mr. Maybrick glanced at each other, and I could see the truth in their eyes. They knew, but they’d never tell.
“This is all about the Book, isn’t it?” I asked scornfully as Austen tightened his hold on me in warning. “Jack wants it, and you refuse to tell him where it is. How many more women will have to die before this stops?”
“You do not know what you speak of,” Father said, caution in his voice.
“She knows about the Book?” Mr. Maybrick turned a cold eye to Father.
“Shethinksshe knows about it,” he responded, trying to appease Mr. Maybrick. “But she is only guessing.”
“That’s good,” Mr. Maybrick said as he stared at me, “because if she actuallyknewabout it, then we’d have to decide what to do about her.”
Austen’s hold tightened again, and he took a slight step forward, as if to protect me.
“And what about you, Baird?” Mr. Maybrick asked. “What do you thinkyouknow about the Book?”
“I want Kate’s safety, first and foremost,” Austen said. “That’s all I care about.”
“I suppose this changes our agreement,” Father said to Mr. Maybrick.
“I wouldn’t want her now.” Mr. Maybrick snorted. “I have no taste for used goods.”
