Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
He doesn’t know about the call. There’s no way. He’d have more guards with us.
Earlier, I’d counted four men in the car following us, and two in the vehicle ahead of us. Chase would have more because he was ridiculous, and always overcompensated when it came to me. Maybe I should’ve stressed that Vivian come along. Perhaps we would’ve been able to escape.
“This is the best tour company for Ripper,” Benny continued. “Dr. Breaton wrote a lot of books on the murders. He’s exhausted more years than anybody on researching him. He even earned his doctorate due to his thesis on Ripper. I read his thesis.”
Benny leaned closer to me, probably so the other people waiting for the tour wouldn’t’ hear him. “I’m a fan.”
Keep him talking and distracted.
“Of Ripper or Dr. Breaton?” I searched the area with my gaze, wondering if Chase or his man watched us.
Benny stepped back like I snatched the knife out of my pocket, opened it, and pointed toward his jugular. “Now you’re talking to me?”
Saying words to him as I looked my brother’s killer in his face was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I’d figured leaving Chase was difficult. I’d knew earlier today that losing my brother was unbearably and emotionally challenging. But to stare this devil, this ungodly creature who had just taken Troy’s life in seconds, that had been so problematic for my mind and my stomach. I came close to vomiting as I held my gut and tried to focus on the plan.
Keep Benny busy, until I figure out a way to get in touch with Chase.
“Jasmine, are you talking to me now?”
“Am I?”
“I would say so. Your lips are moving.”
“Then I guess I am talking to you.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Are you a fan of Dr. Breaton or Ripper?”
“Both.” A breeze rippled through his gray strands. “They’re both geniuses.”
I remembered long ago how sad I was when I spotted the beginning of his graying hair. I hated that old age had crept up on my idol and wished that he was immortal. Now all I could do was imagine hundreds more strands to come.
Die, motherfucker. Die.
“We’re at Aldgate East Underground.” Excitement dotted Benny’s words. “This is the Heart of Ripper’s London. Other tours start at Tower Hill Underground Station. Then they end up walking a good thirty minutes to where all the action began.”
“So White Chapel is a street or something?”
“White Chapel District was right on the doorstep in the East End. It was considered one of the most crime-ridden quarters. Over eighty thousand poor people lived here. Think South End times ten. Every seedy thing was here—sweatshops, overcrowded slums, shady pubs, and doss houses.”
“Doss houses?”
“The people who lived here had no homes. Doss houses were a fucked up hotel. They were a sort of small dormitory of coffin-like beds stuck together. People paid four pennies to lay in one of those coffins for a night. For two pennies you could lean against a rope tied up to a wall.”
Are you here, Chase?
“That’s messed up,” I muttered.
“In South End the age expectancy is eighteen for black men. Back in the day for Whitechapel, it was a fifty-fifty chance people would live past five years old.”
Someone whistled twice and waved us to come over.
We headed that way.
“If you are on the Jack the Ripper tour, come this way.” A guy with a black bowler hat on the top of his head, gestured for everyone to form around him. “I’ll be your guide.”
Benny frowned. “This isn’t Breaton.”
I fingered the pocketknife in my jacket. “You expected him to be doing the tour?”
“No, but I would’ve liked it.”
“I’m sure he’s passed down all of his knowledge to his employees.”
“Let’s hope. I’m going to correct this guy if he’s wrong.”
“Hmm.” I eyed the tall man that got on my side. He looked familiar.
Was he one of the main guards that stayed inside of Chase and my condo? Well ... Chase’s condo. Maybe, I’m just too hopeful for something good to happen.
But then would Chase being here be good? I couldn’t take any more death, besides Benny’s murder. Everyone else had to be safe for several more years. I couldn’t mourn anyone. Troy’s image hit me, and I blinked through the vision.
I must’ve done the eye-shutting pretty hard because Benny touched my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t touch me.” I gripped the knife.
“But—”
“I’m fine. Just don’t touch me. Never.”
His Adam’s apple moved a little as he must’ve gulped down some emotion. But what did he swallow down—fear, sadness, guilt, or grief? What did a monster feel bad about?
“Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way, first,” the guy in the black bowler hat said in a thick British accent. He wore a white shirt and black vest with jeans. Black gloves covered his hands and were cut off at the fingertips. “Since we’ll be on public streets, we’ll always need to make sure that there’s ample stroll room for the regular walker-byers going on about their evening. Nothing worse for the mood than a drunken group of teens staggering into you.”