Capturing the Devil

by Kerri Maniscalco

  Thomas quickly assessed Noah, and I imagined he already knew the answer before he asked the question but was attempting to be polite. “Another missing woman?”

  “Yeah.” Noah scratched the side of his head, nodding. “She worked at the fair. Thought I’d poke around and see what I could find. The Columbian Guard is being tight-lipped about it.”

  “Columbian Guard?” I asked. “What’s that?”

  “An elite part of the police force.” Noah seemed less than impressed. “The White City is so massive, it needs its own police. They wear stupid uniforms, too. Complete with capes. The council thought it would look good to, you know, be in theme with how regal the place is.”

  Costume choices aside, I shifted my attention to Thomas. He offered a slight nod. Here was a promising trail for us to follow.

  I inhaled some of the icy air, already feeling more energized. “Let’s go back to the White City, shall we?”

  After Thomas ran inside and informed Uncle of our plans, we set off for the World’s Fair.

  Despite clouds covering the sky, the enormous Ferris Wheel cut like a blade through the gloom with its sheer might. In fact, it was hard to believe in anything other than magic in the White City. Even knowing what I did about missing women, I couldn’t stop from gasping as I watched the mammoth wheel rotate high in the sky. It carried two thousand people into the heavens. And while I watched it happen before me, I still found it impossible to believe. I’d been impressed by images I’d seen of the Eiffel Tower during Paris’s Exposition Universelle, but this was the most magnificent thing I’d ever witnessed.

  Thomas stood beside me, watching the enormous wheel rotate. When he caught my eye, I saw a hint of sadness before he covered it up. I reached over and held his hand. He needn’t utter a word; I knew how he felt. What he longed for. I longed for it, too.

  It would be lovely to be the sort of young couple who could purchase boxes of Cracker Jack and stand in the massive line for the giant ride. We could talk excitedly about Buffalo Bill’s stagecoach attacks, marvel at how authentic it appeared, our cheeks flushed with the thrill. Once we finally boarded the Ferris Wheel and soared into the heavens, perhaps Thomas could steal a kiss. But we weren’t that couple. We had a murder investigation to conduct.

  We followed Noah through a throng of people, Thomas holding tight to me so we didn’t get separated by the masses. Despite the buildings and the new technology on display, the crowds might truly be the most remarkable spectacle yet. Tens of thousands of people meandered around. It was the most people I’d ever seen in one location.

  It took nearly two hours of moving at a slug’s pace, but we finally made it to a small building tucked behind the Court of Honor. Giant plants hid it from the view of passersby, and if Noah hadn’t known where to turn, I’m positive we would have walked straight past it.

  He knocked on the door, a tap that sounded like Morse code, then stood back as heavy footsteps marched our way. A stout man with red cheeks greeted us. “Mr. Hale, I presume?”

  Noah stepped forward and tipped his hat. “Thanks for meeting with me, Mr. Taylor. These are my associates, Mr. Cresswell and Miss Wadsworth.” He swung his arm to include us. The older gentleman narrowed his eyes. “They’re here to observe,” Noah clarified, lying smoothly. “Would you mind if we came in, or should we do this out here?”

  Mr. Taylor blinked as if to clear his thoughts, then motioned us in. “It’s best to not draw attention to ourselves. Come in.”

  Inside I was surprised to find a tiny but well-organized office. The limited space had been utilized well—four desks were split evenly on each side, creating an aisle; three of them were occupied by young typists. Mr. Taylor brought us to a fifth desk partially hidden with an ornate screen. He pulled a chair around and set it next to two others already there. “Sit. Please.”

  Once we’d arranged ourselves, Noah jumped straight into his inquiry. “What can you tell me about Miss Van Tassel? Anything about the last time you saw her, her mood, if anything was odd. Even the most insignificant detail might help. Her family is sick with worry.”

  Mr. Taylor sat forward at his desk, his hands steepled in front of him. “She never missed a day of work. Always came in with a smile. I believe she’d only been in the city for a few months, but she kept mostly to herself, so none of us heard much about her life outside of here.”

  “She didn’t tell any of your other typists about her personal affairs?” Noah pressed. “No one she might be courting…”

  Mr. Taylor shook his head. “When you rang earlier, I called a meeting with everyone. I asked them to tell me anything they knew. Prior to working here, she had a job at a pharmacy on 63rd Street. She never told anyone why she left it; we assumed for the pay. We’ve only been operational in this location for a little over a week.”

  Thomas tapped his fingers on his thigh but didn’t interrupt Noah’s interrogation. Noah glanced at us and I could see the defeat I felt mirrored in his eyes. “Did anyone ever meet her here or drop her off?”

  “No, I’m afraid—” Mr. Taylor sat back, brows drawn together. “Actually, there was someone. A young man stopped by two days ago. He wore a bowler hat and matching overcoat. Seemed like a reputable fellow. I’m not sure—Dolores?” he called abruptly, flashing an apologetic grimace our way. A young woman poked her head around the partition. “Do you remember what that gentleman came here for? The one who talked to Edna?”

  The young woman frowned a bit, then brightened. “I couldn’t hear much, but he mentioned having her money.” She shrugged. “I think he was her old employer, but she didn’t say much once he left.”

  Noah thanked Mr. Taylor for his time and we all made our way back outside. Thomas offered his arm and I accepted it. We parted ways with Noah near the front of the Court of Honor. He had to stop by the Pinkertons’ office and it was on the opposite side of the city.

  We strolled along, each lost in our private thoughts, when one tiny, almost insignificant detail sprang to mind.

  “Wait.” I pulled Thomas to a stop, recalling what I’d seen on a map of Chicago. “Sixty-Third Street; I believe that’s in Englewood. We need to go to that pharmacy straightaway. So far two missing women were last seen in that neighborhood, or had a connection to a pharmacy there—Julia Smythe with her daughter, Pearl, on Christmas Eve, and now Miss Van Tassel.”

  And Miss Minnie Williams, Mephistopheles’s actress, had just started working there. I didn’t know her well, but I didn’t want her to cross paths with our murderer, especially since he seemed to stalk that neighborhood.

  Thomas nodded toward the sky. It was a dusky rose tinged with purple and black. I stared at the sun dipping into the horizon, wondering how I’d not noticed how late it had gotten. Thomas called for a carriage. “I’m afraid our adventure will have to wait until morning. Most shops close at dark.”

  I wanted to argue, to point out that our murderer didn’t care what time of day it was, that he’d still keep up his sinister pursuits, but before I could utter a word, the skies opened up. Hail clattered around us, ensuring that no one would be lurking around outdoors now.

  Thomas held his coat over my head, trying to shield me from the worst of it before ushering me quickly into our hansom. We were both quiet as we watched the White City fade behind us. From here, the buildings jutted up from the horizon, like broken fingers reaching toward the sky. It was a morbid thought.

  As our wheels clattered over stone and frozen rain tapped at our roof, I hoped it wasn’t an omen of worse things to come.

  Typical Victorian Pharmacy, Plough Court Pharmacy, 1897

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  A GRID SYSTEM

  SOUTH SIDE

  CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

  14 FEBRUARY 1889

  I blew out a breath, glancing from one avenue to the other. Chicago’s streets seemed to devour those who weren’t familiar with them, leaving no morsel behind. “Foolish,” I cursed under my breath. Why I imagined it an easy task, taking a streetcar i
nstead of hiring a carriage, I didn’t know. Thomas left me standing on the corner as he dashed into the nearest store to inquire after our destination. At least I wasn’t alone in my lack of direction.

  “Miss, are you lost?” A man in his mid-twenties wearing a sleek coat and matching bowler hat stepped close, but not improperly so.

  “This city is impossible.” I tossed a hand up, indicating the whole area. “At least New York is laid out in a grid. There are practically a dozen ‘Washington’ streets alone!”

  “Chicago’s actually a grid, too, and it’s fairly easy to navigate once you’ve had some practice.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Townships keep getting swallowed up, which is why there are so many streets with the same names. You’re from England, I presume?”

  I nodded. “I’m from London.”

  “You’re a bit far from home.” He eyed me in a friendly manner. “Are you here for the fair?”

  “My fiancé and I are here for a variety of reasons.” Admitting I was here to hunt the White City Devil seemed a bit much to tell a perfect stranger. “Do you know where I might find this pharmacy?” I showed him the address Minnie Williams had scribbled down after our introduction at Mephistopheles’s theatrical show. “I thought this was Wallace, but I seem to have gotten turned about.”

  He took the letter from me, then shifted. “It’s right over there. See that jewelry store?” I followed where he pointed, barely making out a small sign. The building was still a good distance away. It had to be the same store where Miss Smythe was last seen. “Is your fiancé joining you? Or did you slip away on your own?”

  An uncomfortable feeling slithered through me. I discreetly studied the young man—he was perfectly ordinary. Except for the almost cobalt-like hue of his eyes; they were quite mesmerizing. I tried imagining him stealing women off the streets, or ripping them apart, if he were the elusive Ripper. Mr. Cigrande claimed the demons who’d taken his daughter had light eyes, but this man’s were a deep blue.

  “Should we not tell your fiancé about this?” he pressed.

  “My—”

  Thomas rounded the corner that very moment, his attention immediately running over the young man in his usual manner. I knew he was identifying each detail and cataloging it for future use. His expression remained unreadable.

  “You must be the fiancé,” the young man said, turning up the wattage on his smile. “I was watching over your lady here.”

  “Yes, well, my lady hardly needs watching.” Thomas didn’t return the man’s smile. “I enjoy obedience in my dogs, not my wife. She’s free to do as she pleases.”

  I tried not to heave a sigh. I loved that Thomas never shied away from sharing his innermost opinions, but we’d have to work on his delivery a bit more in the future.

  “No insult intended.” The young man raised his hands. “If ever there was a city where young women were free to do as they please, it’s Chicago.” He was sincere sounding enough. “I hope you both enjoy your stay. Make sure to visit the fair at night—it’s spectacular.”

  With a quick nod to us both, he crossed the street and disappeared around the next block. Thomas watched him go before looping his arm through mine. “Apparently you and I are stellar at details of murder but abysmal at locating storefronts. The address we’re looking for is—”

  “Right over there,” I finished, grinning up at him. “Let’s not tell anyone about our terrible sense of direction.”

  A bell jangled pleasantly above us as we stepped into the pharmacy. Thomas immediately abandoned me in favor of a table stacked with sugar cubes. He held a small box up, breathing in the scent as if it were a fresh bouquet. I all but rolled my eyes. We were here on a hunch regarding the Ripper frequenting this establishment, and here he was, mesmerized by candy.

  “Lemon drop.” He picked up another. “Mint.” He clutched them to his chest, glancing toward me. “Imagine what these would taste like in coffee or tea?”

  “Those infused sugar cubes are one of our bestsellers.” A familiar young woman stepped around the table, her smile infectious. “Miss Wadsworth. Mr. Cresswell.”

  “Miss Williams,” I said, hugging Minnie warmly. “It’s lovely to see you again. How are you enjoying your stenography course?”

  “It’s good. There’s always much to do, so I’m quite busy. I split my time between that and watching the counter here until Henry hires another girl. We rent a few rooms out upstairs and I tell you, I can’t keep up. It’s hard to find reliable employees lately. Everyone wants to be at the fair, not stuck behind a counter.” Minnie plastered on a smile, though it didn’t light up her face the way acting had. “Enough with talk of work; I’m so pleased you both came to see me! Just look at this!” She held up her hand, showing off a beautiful wedding band. “We married a few days ago. It was a private little affair, but I couldn’t be happier. Henry’s found us a place in Lincoln Park. We’re almost settled in, and I’d love if you’d come visit. He’ll be traveling for a bit and it’ll just be me in that big old house. Not that I’m complaining—it’s simply darling.” Her attention strayed to where Thomas was still lifting boxes of sugar and breathing in their aromas. “You’re welcome to take a few home, Mr. Cresswell. I’m sure Henry won’t mind.”

  Thomas lifted his gaze to mine, his expression hopeful.

  “I’m your fiancée, not your keeper, Cresswell.”

  Actually, I wasn’t technically either. I must have frowned because his eyes darkened into two pools of trouble. I braced myself for whatever untoward thing was about to come out of his mouth to distract me. Sugar cubes forgotten, he tossed them aside and took a quick nip at my ear. “Who needs sugar when you’re sweet enough to satisfy me, Wadsworth?”

  Poor Minnie appeared as uncomfortable as anything. I gave Thomas my most exaggerated eye roll and shook my head. “Will you look around for anything else you might be interested in?” I raised my brows, hinting at our ulterior motives. “Perhaps you’ll find something of note.”

  Thomas looked ready to dazzle me with another of his flirtations, and before he could utter something silly, I turned to Minnie. “The pharmacy is lovely. I’ve never seen so many tonics in one place. There must be over one hundred different jars.”

  “Oh, goodness.” Minnie eyed up the shelves as she stepped out from behind the counter. Bottles filled with powder and different colored liquids were stacked two and three rows deep. “There’s closer to three hundred! Henry is gifted with his elixirs. He’s got tonics for headaches and backaches and even creams for smooth skin. People from all over the city come in to purchase his tinctures.”

  “Well, with a collection so grand, I can see why.” We walked through the store, my cane clicking pleasantly. “Minnie,” I began slowly, not wanting to frighten her, “have you heard about a Miss Julia Smythe? Or her daughter, Pearl?”

  Her brow crinkled. “No, I can’t say either name sounds familiar. Are they friends of yours? I might ask around if you need me to.”

  I caught Thomas’s eye across the store; he gave me a slight shake of his head. A warning to not reveal too much. “No, one of our friends came across her picture in a paper. Julia worked at the jewelry counter on 63rd Street and was last seen on Christmas Eve. Her family is quite worried. A Miss Van Tassel did work here and recently disappeared, too. Have you heard of her?”

  “That’s awful!” Minnie’s expression didn’t shift, though her tone did. “Henry hasn’t mentioned anyone by that name before, though the pharmacy across the street is run by that strange man. I wonder if that’s where they both worked. He sells jewelry there, too.” She seemed genuinely concerned. “I swear there’s something not quite right about him… the way he watches each move a person makes like they’re ready to steal from him. Henry’s warned me to not draw his attention.”

  I was momentarily taken aback. I hadn’t counted on there being two pharmacies in close proximity to each other. Now I was unsure if Miss Van Tassel and Miss Smythe and her daughter were linked to this on
e or the other. “Have you had many dealings with him?”

  “Goodness, no.” She shook her head. “I told Henry about the last time I stopped in there and he said to stay away from that wretched man and his shop.” She shuddered. “My Henry never speaks poorly of anyone, so I took his warning seriously.”

  Thomas had inspected almost every inch of the store and was now standing close enough to overhear our conversation.

  “I do hope you find that missing woman and her daughter,” Minnie added. “If she worked for him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d buried them in his basement. He seems the sort to have a collection of blasphemous things.”

  That certainly sounded as if it could fit with our suspect. “Thank you, Minnie, you’ve been very helpful. We must be on our way, though. We’ve got to speak with the proprietor of that pharmacy, too.”

  “Oh, he’s not in,” she said, nodding toward the giant window. “He drew the curtains and the CLOSED sign has been displayed for a week now. No one seems to know where he’s gotten to. I can’t say that I mind, though. The less I see of him, the better.”

  Thomas and I exchanged looks. We were getting closer; I could sense it in the way gooseflesh rose along my arms. Either we’d missed him by a week, or he was still inside, lurking in the darkened building. I hid my shudder as I faced Minnie again.

  “I’m sorry to trouble you with one more question,” I said, “but did anything unusual occur right before he disappeared?”