I lifted my eyebrows, not expecting to hear that news. My father was in his late forties in 1888. I’d assumed he was dead by now. “He is? I—I thought he had passed away.”
“He’s not in good health,” the man told me. “But he’s living—at least, he was the last I heard. He doesn’t attend meetings any longer, as you can imagine, but we keep an eye on the oldest members of our brotherhood out of respect. I could get you his address if you’d like to visit with him.”
“Yes, of course,” I said quickly, not wanting to appear heartless, though I had no intention of visiting with my father from my other path. He had no idea I was a time-crosser, and it would only shock his system to see me at his advanced age.
“I’ll find it for you as you do your research. Follow me, please.” He led me through the building, pointing out the Grand Temple, where the Grand Lodge met, and noting that there were twenty-six smaller temples for the various lodges that gathered in the building.
“Here we are,” he finally said as we entered a large, well-lit room with aisles of shelves, boxes, files, and books. “The reference library.”
Another man sat at a desk in the library, and when I entered, he rose for introductions.
“I’m Mr. Hornby,” he said with a nod. “Here to assist you, Miss ... ?”
“I’m Kathryn Voland.”
“An American?”
“Yes. I work for the Smithsonian Institute, but I’m in London working on a special exhibit with the London Museum.”
Both men lifted their eyebrows, but it was Mr. Hornby who said, “That’s very impressive, Miss Voland. How may I be of service to you today?”
“I’m looking for information about Sir Bernard Kelly,” I said.
Mr. Hornby’s eyebrows were still raised. “Sir Kelly? How very interesting. Is this research for your exhibit at the London Museum?”
I shook my head, not wanting to reveal why I needed to find information about my father—or how his connection to Freemasonry might be linked to my sister Mary’s exile and, ultimately, how it could be connected to Jack the Ripper. If the Freemasons were hiding Jack’s real identity in 1888, I had no reason to think they weren’t still hiding it.
“Sir Kelly is a relative of Miss Voland’s,” the receptionist explained to Mr. Hornby.
“He is,” I confirmed. “I’m curious about his connection to the Freemasons for personal reasons.”
“Let’s see what we can find,” Mr. Hornby said as the receptionist left us, promising to find Sir Kelly’s address.
I followed Mr. Hornby toward the shelves as he squinted through his glasses, examining the books. “It seems to me that Sir Kelly had quite a history with the Freemasons.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, indeed. I’m not surprised you’d be curious about hisinvolvement with the Brotherhood. He was part of one of the great exploration trips to Israel in 1874 with Sir Charles Warren.”
So my suspicionshadbeen correct. Father had been in Jerusalem with Sir Charles Warren.
“Sir Warren was an archaeologist, and some say he ushered in the age of biblical archaeology with his work,” Mr. Hornby said as he perused a shelf of books. “He made significant discoveries in Jerusalem, specifically concerning the Temple Mount, where King Solomon’s Temple was located.”
I could hardly believe that my parents knew Sir Charles Warren yet had never mentioned him to me before, especially as his name had become more prominent in the press surrounding the Ripper murders.
Mr. Hornby removed several books from the shelf. “Sir Warren wrote four different books about his discoveries in Jerusalem, and over fifty of his maps were published in what is now known as theWarren Atlas.” He brought the books to a table and took one of them out of the pile. “Underground Jerusalemwas published in 1876, two years after the trip Sir Kelly took with Sir Warren. I think this might be a good place for you to begin your research. But please be careful. There are only two known copies of the book.”
“Who has the other one?” I asked.
“It’s believed that Sir Warren sent a personal copy to Prince Albert Victor, with his original notes from the trip, but that’s only speculation.”
“Why are there only two copies?”
“They weren’t meant for public distribution,” he said. “Just for Masonic reference.”
Mr. Hornby opened the book and began to page through it until he came to the place he was looking for. “Here is the account of the group that traveled with Sir Warren in 1874.” He stepped back and pulled a chair out for me to sit. “I’ll be at my desk if you need further assistance.”
“Thank you.” I set my purse on the table and smiled at the helpful man.
