Annie continued to frown as suspicion darkened her gaze. “Who are you looking for?”
“Mary Jane Kelly.”
Annie’s eyes cleared for a moment as she took a step back, looking between me and Austen. “Why do you want to know about her?”
“You do know her,” I said quickly.
“I knowofthe girl,” she said, her voice and gaze drifting off, “but that was a long time ago. In a world that doesn’t seem to exist any longer.”
I frowned, confused by her words, but pressed on. “Do you know where she lives?”
“The less I know, the better, that’s what John always said. Take a drink, Annie, and forget. Forget about all of it.” Her gaze clouded over again, and she lifted her hand. “Spare a sixpence, love?”
Austen reached into his pocket and pulled out a shilling. Annie’s face filled with wonder as she looked up at him quickly and nodded. “God bless you, sir.”
She started to leave, but I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Do you know Polly Nichols?”
Annie’s muscles were stiff as she turned back to me. “Doyouknow Polly?”
I shook my head. Though I had seen her at Toynbee Hall, I didn’t know her.
Annie swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder, then leaned forward and said, “I don’t know anything. Drink to forget, Annie. Drink to forget.” Her gaze wandered, as if she was looking for somewhere to get the drink she needed.
She slowly pulled back from me and simply walked away, dazed and troubled.
I started to go after her, but Austen captured my hand and shook his head. “Let her go, Kate. Even if she does tell you something,it would be hard to believe her. She’s clearly troubled and unwell, and if we make a scene, someone will notice.”
“What if she knows Mary or Polly?”
“We’ll find Mary a different way.” Austen lifted his gaze to look at the street. “Besides, if a madman is on the loose and he has a target on Annie, he could be watching us right now. We shouldn’t stay.” He gently brought my hand into the crook of his elbow and motioned with his head the way we had come. “Let’s get you out of this rain.”
We didn’t speak as we walked back to the waiting carriage.
After we got inside, Austen tapped on the carriage roof and it began to move.
“What do you think she meant?” I finally asked Austen. “Did she really know of Mary from a long time ago?”
“I’m not sure. She seemed certain at first, but it was hard to tell. How could she have known of Mary from a long time ago? Mary is only twenty, and Annie is in her forties. Did she know her as a child? I wouldn’t put too much stock into her responses.”
“But her recognition when I said Mary’s name—it has to mean something.”
The carriage bounced through the rutted street, pressing me closer to Austen.
At first he was stiff beside me, but he eventually softened and allowed me to lean into him.
“Kate.”
I looked up at him, waiting. His hair was combed, but it was still long, and his beard was unkempt. If it wasn’t for his clothing, though worn, or the way he carried himself, he might be mistaken for a commoner and not a gentleman.
“What is it?” I asked him.
He started to speak, but then he shook his head and looked out the window. “Nothing.”
I sat up straighter. “You must tell me.”
“I shouldn’t. It’s nothing.” He turned back to me, and I saw in his eyes that something was troubling him.
