I hadn’t even considered that possibility. What if Jack had followed me? Or my parents?
I couldn’t worry about that now. I needed to tell her why Ihad come. “I spoke to Danbury, and she told me about the book, Mary.”
My sister’s eyes opened wide as her face paled. “What does she know about the book?”
“Then it’s true?”
Mary walked to the bed and sat, shaking her head. “She can’t know what was in the book. I never told her.”
I joined my sister on the bed. “What book did you find? What did it contain?”
She rose again, clearly agitated, and went back to the window. “Joseph might come back—or Dierdre. You need to leave. My neighbor lady asked about you the last time you were here. She suspected you were my sister, because of our red hair.”
I recalled that the file on Mary Jane Kelly said that her parents had disowned her, but she was still in contact with her sister. Would her neighbor be questioned after the murder?
“So, you can see it’s not safe for you to come here, Kathryn,” Mary continued. “I’ll have to find a way to explain who you are to Dierdre now, too.”
“Who is Dierdre?”
“She is a friend. She stays here, with some others, from time to time, but Joseph doesn’t like it. I can’t have my friends sleeping on the street when a murderer is afoot, can I? Joseph says he pays for part of this room, so he should have a say, but I told him he can find another place to live if he’d like.” She pressed her lips together. “He left early this morning, angry at me. I don’t know how I’ll make the rent if I don’t have his help, but I can’t turn my friends away.”
She rubbed her hands over her arms and walked to the fireplace, where the embers were burning low. The room was cool and damp and would not hold up against the oncoming winter—but that wouldn’t matter, because I would get Mary away from this place before November 9th.
“You didn’t leave our parents’ house of your own free will, did you?” I asked as I joined her. “You were forced to leave becauseyou found the book and there was something in it that was incriminating? Is that it?”
She stared at me for a moment, her green eyes filled with so many emotions, I couldn’t differentiate what she was thinking and feeling.
“Even if I wanted to tell you,” she whispered, “I wouldn’t.”
“Is this about Father?” I asked. “I know he’s a Freemason.”
Something flickered in her gaze. Fear?
“Is that it?” I asked. “Does this have something to do with the Freemasons?”
“Don’t look for answers, Kathryn,” Mary begged. “The Freemasons have an innocent enough façade, and I believe that most of them join the Brotherhood with good intentions. But there are members who are formidable and deceitful and cruel, and they use the Freemasons’ power as a weapon. There is nothing you can find that will alleviate your curiosity or help in any way.”
I stared at her, wanting to heed her words but needing to know what she had found. “What was in the book?”
A movement outside the window made my sister look up quickly. A man was approaching.
“That’s Joseph,” she said, panic lacing her words. “I don’t want him to know who you are. Please. Don’t tell him.” She looked at my dress, which I hadn’t had time to change after paying a call on Mrs. Windham, and shook her head. “He’ll never believe you’re from Whitechapel. He’ll ask too many questions and want to know more about my past.”
Dierdre appeared, stepping into the passageway and intercepting Joseph. She drew close to him and whispered into his ear.
Mary watched closely, but I couldn’t tell if she was jealous or relieved.
Eventually, Dierdre took the man’s hand and tugged him in the opposite direction, and they disappeared onto Dorset Street.
“You have to leave,” Mary said to me. “Dierdre can distract Joseph for a time, but he’ll be back.” She opened the door and looked right and then left. When she turned back to me, she said,“Please believe me, Kathryn. You do not want to know what I know, or you will end up no better than me. Not even Austen could save you.”
She pushed me out the door and then closed it in my face, not giving me the chance to ask her another question or even say good-bye.
Frustrated, angry, and deterred, I hurried through the passage toward Dorset Street and Austen’s waiting carriage.
Joseph and Dierdre were nowhere in sight as Austen stepped out of his carriage and helped me in. He tapped on the ceiling, and the carriage pulled away from Miller’s Court.
“Did you find the answers you were seeking?” he asked me.
