Page 90 of The Business of Blood
I remembered what Dr. Phillips had said regarding this. That intuition was just the brain processing information more quickly than one’s consciousness could comprehend. Or something along those lines.
What did Croft’s bones know about the Hammer that his brain did not?
What did Croft’s bones tell him about me?
I’d seen too many guts—too many bones—to trust them as reliable communicators.
“Those letters you received lead me to believe that my theory would convince even the Ripper.”
I gaped at him. “What could you possibly mean?”
“Clearly, he believes the answer to who killed Frank Sawyer and Katherine Riley lies in what connects them.”
My brows pinched together. “And you think that connection is the Hammer?”
He leaned forward, his arm draping over his knee. “I don’t think it. I know it.”
My heart stopped for a full second before sputtering to life again. “Frank Sawyer owed the Hammer money. But how is the Hammer connected to Katherine Riley?”
“How is that any of your concern?” Croft volleyed back.
“Because,” I wanted to say but didn’t. The Hammer claimed never to have met Katherine Riley.
Had he lied? Again?
I gazed back at Croft, dodging the waves of palpable tension and menace rolling off him like thunderclouds down a mountain.
I wasn’t sure why I reached for him, I just did. My hand landed on his forearm and stayed there. “I think you’re right, Inspector Croft. This is all somehow connected. Frank Sawyer, Katherine Riley, Thaddeus Comstock, Jack the Ripper, the Hammer…and me. If you can tell me anything—anything—that doesn’t suggest that I’m the middle link to this gruesome chain of murders, I’d—” I broke off, unsure what promises to make. What gestures ofquid pro quoI was willing to offer. Especially after our most recent conversation. “Well, I’d be grateful,” I finished lamely.
He stared at my hand for a long time, the sinew and fibers of his forearm twitching and flexing beneath his jacket. After a moment, he relaxed, much of his tension releasing on a never-ending sigh. “Did you know I have a sister?”
I fought a growing sense of aggravation. What did that have to do with anything? “I know hardly a thing about you,” I hedged, hoping he’d make a relevant point.
“We were whelped in Northumberland. Street rats, mostly. Our mother died in a factory fire, and our father took off several years before that.” He revealed this all whilst glaring down at my knuckles, a smooth, pale contrast to his.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” I murmured. And I was. Truly.
He lifted one giant shoulder. “We were better for his loss, but not hers. We came to London in search of a cousin we’d heard word of, but what we found were the likes of the Hammer. I, being the youngest, fell in with a gang right away, and Amelia, she…she did about the only thing an uneducated girl can do in the East End for money.”
His sister had been a prostitute. I understood immediately why she hadn’t searched for factory work.
“Amelia had a baby several years ago,” Croft continued. “A little boy. She placed him with Katherine Riley, as many girls in the business do. Including the Hammer’s.” He looked up at me then.
I had to be careful to temper my reaction. “How do you know the Hammer sent his girls to Katherine Riley in particular? There must be many such women who provide services like hers.”
“Easy.” He smirked. “I asked a few of them, and they told me. For a price. Always for a bloody price.”
“It surprises me that any employee of the Hammer’s would dare incriminate him, even for quid,” I said.
“He’s made no real secret of it. The Hammer tells his girls if they end up with a git they don’t want, to take it to Katherine Riley. Said he’d pay extra money to place the child with the best family possible.”
“It sounds like they had a profitable working relationship. Why would he want her dead?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Croft sat back, dislodging my hand from his arm. It grazed his thigh before I snatched it back. It didn’t seem that he noticed, so I tried not to either.
“Whoever killed Katherine Riley stole my only chance of finding my nephew. Ms. Riley was trying to help me get in touch with the family who has him. But because of the illegal nature of her business, she’s shite at keeping records. I think we were close, though, and now my sister is devastated.”
“Where is your sister?”
