Page 9 of A Treacherous Trade
“Even so, what you do is most necessary.” Passing her hand down her bodice in a tense gesture, Beatrice checked a watch chain on the vest of her velvet, grey-and-green striped gown.
“I—er—I’m not a woman with a delicate constitution, Miss Mahoney, but I’d rather not go back in that room the way it is, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I completely understand, Miss Chamberlain. That is what I am here for,” I said, forgiving her immediately for any insult I might have taken from her appraisal. To be fair, at nine-and-twenty, I’d be aging out of the profession, as they’d say.
“It’sMrs.Chamberlain,” she corrected absently, her eyes drifting to the door.
“Oh, forgive me.” I’d not assumed a woman in her line of work would be married.
More fool, I.
“You take your ease,” I suggested gently. “Once my assistant arrives with my implements, I’ll get right to work. Until then, do you mind if I… assess the scene?”
“You’ll not want to be near that room yet.” The cloth went back over her mouth and nose, and she took a few bracing breaths. “Jane is still—she’s in there.”
No, she wasn’t. Only the shell that once housed Jane was left in that room. Just flesh and bone, organs and offal… along with blood and such I’d have to erase from the rugs and floorboards. Or the walls, furniture,et cetera.
Amelia reclaimed her perch in front of Beatrice. “I learned of this tragedy a good hour-and-a-half ago. You’re saying the police haveleftpoor Jane here?”
“They’ve come and gone, mostly. Just waiting on the coroner’s cart.” Beatrice cast an apprehensive glance in the direction of the business proper. “Apparently, it’s been a busy morning for corpses.”
Though I understood her consternation, I couldn’t believe my luck. I needed to get into that room with Jane. To confirm if my fears were founded. To assess for myself if Jack touched this corpse, or another copycat… or if perhaps this was simply another terrible and unavoidable violence against a vulnerable woman.
“Mrs. Chamberlain…” I hesitated, making certain to phrase my question as gently as possible. “Can you tell me in what… what state you found the—” I paused. The what? The body? The victim? The woman? “How was poor Jane situated? Er, or—could you ascertain how she died?”
Judging by the way Beatrice and Amelia stared at me with matching censorious expressions, I deduced I’d still managed to ask the wrong question, despite my best efforts.
“I understand it’s an indelicate matter,” I said. “But I-I’m only trying to determine how many chemicals will be necessary along with protective coverings and what have you. Is it a—fairly grisly scene?”
“Isn’t every murder scene grisly?” Beatrice pressed her lips together in stern approbation.
“Most certainly,” I said. “But some have more… fluids than others, to be sure.”
“You’ll forgive Fiona’s frankness, Bea,” Amelia swiftly interjected. “But think of it this way: To her, death is like sex is to us. A trade. Something she deals with daily and is rather inured to. She famously cleaned the Mary Kelly scene during the Ripper’s autumn of terror a couple of years back, or so Grayson told me. I understand once you’ve seen such a horror, no other murder can quite compare in its gruesome nature.”
“You make a living cleaning up after murdered whores, then? Why—to make a name for yourself?” Beatrice didn’t pause to allow me an answer. “Do you tell yourself it’s to help the unfortunate and disadvantaged? Because you will not find such women here, you see. The Orchard is a place where women are proud to work, and until recently it was one of the safest and most lucrative establishments in the city.” The proprietress had given me an entirely new assessment. This time not as a prostitute, but as a professional of a different nature.
Something in her eyes compelled me to speak a truth very few people on this earth knew. “Mary Kelly was my friend since before we could walk. After my father was killed, I emigrated here from Ireland to join her. To work with her in a place very like this. But by the time I arrived… it was too late. The Ripper found her first.”
Grayson Croft had been there at the scene, holding me back as my heart broke over her ghastly remains. He’d seen me at my very worst. My most feral.
What had he told his sister when he arrived home that day? What else did she know about me from his perspective?
Beatrice’s eyes changed then. Softened, if only from steel to iron.
“I found another way to make a living, ma’am,” I continued. “But I do not presume it is a better way. Furthermore, I respect the remains of all people equally, but it is important to me to find the Ripper. And so yes, I look for him in every violence done to a woman, especially women who… Well, I find that most women who work on their backs do so to avoid scrubbing on their knees, as I must. And I’m certain many find your trade much more agreeable than mine. However, both services must be performed in order for society to work, would you not agree?”
At that, she melted like warmed butter, just as I hoped she would. “I suppose it makes sense. Two of my girls are dead, and you’re here looking for the Ripper. That said, I don’t think you’ll find him here, love. Being the purveyor of goods and services that I am, I followed that case with avid interest… Jane and Alys were not killed by someone with such crude and violent proclivities as his.”
“Alys?”
“Alys Hywel,” Beatrice said. “A beautiful bird from Cardiff. Worked here only two months before they pulled her blue body from the river in Whitechapel three weeks back.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “Was she drowned?”
“So says the final report,” Amelia said, her lip curling with distaste. “Suicide, the coroner called it, despite my adamant protestations. Lazy git didn’t want to perform an autopsy on a prostitute, is all, and had no patience for my belief.” Beatrice made a crude gesture and rolled her eyes. “Just another reminder that having a cock somehow makes your opinion twice as important in this bloody world.”
I agreed with the sentiment, but wisely didn’t mention that, in addition to said sex appendage, coroners were also in possession of a medical degree and no little amount of expertise. I was lucky enough to be acquainted with several, and my opinion of them was by and large favorable. Especially of Dr. George Bagster Phillips, who was often my partner in business… as well as a little bit of crime.
