Stalking Jack the Ripper Page 46
“You… what?” I felt my nerves unraveling. “This can’t be real.”
Nathaniel lost himself in some reverie before shrugging the memory away. “Anyhow, I think I’ve discovered why you and Mother got sick, and Father and I didn’t.”
He sat on his heels, looking around the room again, exaltation and wonder etched into his normally sunny features.
“Took some time figuring out, and I wish you would’ve waited before coming down here, but no matter.” He smiled, patting my hand. “You’re here now and it’s perfect. I’ve worked out the final touch. All that’s left is a little prick of blood and a bit of electricity. Like in the book. You remember the one, don’t you? Our favorite.”
Another tear slid down my cheek. I wasn’t dreaming, I was sitting in Hell. My brother fancied himself Dr. Frankenstein, and I’d never allow our mother to become his monster. “You cannot bring Mother back from the dead, Nathaniel. It isn’t right.”
He shoved himself away from me, pacing in the orangey glow of his devil’s lab, shaking his head. “What makes it wrong? You, of all people, I thought, would appreciate and understand. This is a breakthrough in science, dear Sister. A feat people will speak of for all time. Our name will forever be attached to the unimaginable. Uncle’s a shortsighted fool. He wishes only to conduct a successful organ transplant. I’ve got something much bigger in mind.”
Nathaniel nodded, as if it were all the convincing he needed. He punched his fingers into an open palm, exposing cuts on his fingertips. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen him without gloves on. Now I knew why.
“Until now, people didn’t believe it could be done. Only authors and scientific visionaries like Galvani dared imagining such a wonder. Now I’ve accomplished it! Don’t you see? This is something worth celebrating. People will never forget the scientific breakthrough I’ve made.”
“What of the women you killed?” I asked, wringing my hands in my lap. “Is it worth celebrating their deaths?”
“The whores? Why, yes. I think it’s doubly worth celebrating now that you mention it.” He stood, hands fisted at his sides, eyes darkening. “Not only have I rid our streets of the blight attacking it, but I’ve just about brought our beloved mother back from death.”
He paced in front of me again, his tone growing more hostile with each step he took. “I’ve put the wretches out of their misery and their sacrifice will bring back a good, decent woman. Please, inform me of my wrongdoings. Honestly, Sister, you make it seem as if I were a common monster preying on the helpless. Mother herself was a God-fearing woman. She will understand.”
I had no words. The women he murdered did matter. They weren’t rubbish to be tossed away in the streets. They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters. And they were loved as we’d loved our own mother. How dare he pass such judgment. My brother was so lost to his own fantastical science and sense of justice that he totally missed the mark of what it meant to be human. Which sparked something in my brain.
“What of the gears left inside the bodies?” I asked. “What sort of message were you sending the police?”
“Message? There was no intended message. I simply left them where I’d dropped them.” Nathaniel ran his fingers over his hair, attempting to smooth it down but achieving the opposite. He continued pacing, growing more agitated that I wasn’t applauding his unforgivable behavior. “Is that truly all you care about? The blasted gears inside the wretches?”
“They did not deserve to die, Nathaniel,” I whispered.
“These women did not deserve to live!” His voice boomed in the small space, making me jump. “Don’t you see? These women are a disease. They destroy lives. I offered them a chance at redemption—death for life!”
He walked around to the coffin, then threw the lid back, tears filling his eyes. “Her life was destroyed by disease. Disease spread widely in part by whores coughing and infecting good men. So, no, Sister, I won’t feel an ounce of sorrow for cleansing our city of a few of them. Would that I could, I’d set the entire East End ablaze and be done with them all. As it stands, I took only what I needed for my experiment.”
“How very noble of you.”
“I know.” My brother missed the sarcasm in my tone. He smirked, like it was high time I saw his reasoning. “Truthfully, I’d not intended to kill so many, but the organs shut down before I could work on them. The bolts proved difficult to master in the dark, so I started carrying a medical satchel with ice and inserted the bolts and gears here. Watch.”
He hoisted a large luggage case over, unfolding it into a portable table and setting it beside the glass-encased heart in the center of the room. Hand and leg restraints dangled from the edge of it. Nathaniel walked over to a gear on the wall and cranked it until a long, needle-type device hovered above the table. This must be his electrical source.
Something that felt a lot like fear stirred in my blood.
To my utter horror, he bent down, dragged Mother’s corpse onto the makeshift table he’d set up, then shoved her hands and feet into the leather straps.
I closed my eyes as her lifeless head lolled to the side, feeling a rolling wave of nausea wash over me. She’d been deceased for five years and I hadn’t a clue how she was more than just bones.
“I had the foresight to keep Mother partially frozen in a special icebox down here.” Nathaniel stared at the slightly decayed corpse, tenderly pushing her hair aside, and answering the question I never asked aloud. “Shame I didn’t think of preserving her immediately. It was hard enough sneaking her out of her grave and bringing her here without Father’s knowledge. That’s where the laudanum came in handy.”
Nathaniel dropped a glass specimen jar, then cursed, rousing me from denial. I couldn’t reconcile the Nathaniel I’d known all my life with this beastly version before me. And I couldn’t even think about the pains Father would experience should he see our mother now.
Mother had been dead enough years that strands of her long, black hair fell onto the floor. Nathaniel picked up large pieces of glass, discarding the clumps of hair that caught in them as he tossed them into a rubbish bin. He was completely unaffected by the ghastly scene in front of him, cleaning up his mess as if the corpse of our mother were not rotting on a table before him.
Had I not already expelled the contents of my stomach earlier, I’d be doing so this instant.
“How did you discover this room?” I gripped my hands together, refusing to look at Mother again. I was so close to losing my nerve, so very close to losing my own sanity, it wouldn’t take much to cripple me now.
Whirl-churn. Whirl-churn.
Nathaniel flicked his attention to me. “You recall the secret passages in Thornbriar?”
Memories of playing in secret passageways each summer flipped through my mind. Jonathan Nathaniel Wadsworth the first was a bit of an eccentric. He’d had more secret passageways built in the cottage estate than were in the queen’s own palace. I nodded.
“A few summers ago I found a map of this property at Thornbriar,” he said, shrugging. “Father was already abusing his tonic, so I added extra laudanum to his brandy at night. It wasn’t hard to ensure Father remained… sedated and unaware of my use of his precious study. What was a bit more opium to an addict?”
“You… fed Father opium, knowing the consequences?” Clenching my teeth, I watched my brother walk over to the table with the steam-pumping heart. The urge to cry reared up, but I silenced myself. Nathaniel removed a scalpel from a medical kit under the table, then set it down beside the organ. He took another bag out and placed several locks and bolts out in a row.
Little puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.
Nathaniel was the only one other than Father who knew how to craft such intricate steam-driven toys. He’d been there with Father nightly as a child, watching and learning from the best. Then there was the matter of his short medical apprenticeship before he switched to studying law. Both of those previous hobbies had aided with his dexterity. And precision.
While I fought with the image of a loving brother I knew and the monster before me, he lit a burner on the table and heated the metal up, fusing bolts and gears together as if it were second nature.
Another memory slid into the forefront of my mind. My brother had been disturbed when he’d discovered I’d snuck into Father’s study. I’d thought him worried for me, should our father ever find out I’d been snooping through his things. When in reality, Nathaniel had worried I’d find his secret lab.
Nathaniel peered over at me, smiling menacingly as he worked furiously on his newest invention. I watched in silence while he created a metal cage, still unable to think straight. My logical brain knew I had to think and act quickly, but my body felt leaden and crushed by devastation. I couldn’t move.
“It’s going into Mother’s chest cavity. It’ll keep her new heart protected.” He nodded several times to himself. “Think of it as an artificial rib cage of sorts.”
My body finally shook itself free of shock. Chills dipped their fingertips into buckets of ice, then darted wildly over my back. Everything made sense. The look of fear when the detective inspector showed up with me at the door after Father’s dismissed coachman had been murdered. The same fear-frozen gaze when Superintendent Blackburn interrupted us at the circus.
A million clues had been sitting right before me, and I chose to ignore them.
My brother was the kind one. The sensitive one. I was the monster. The one who sought to pry secret knowledge from dead flesh. How had I not seen the same curiosity in him? We were composed of the same inheritance.
He held the contraption up to the steam-powered heart, measuring it for size, laughing to himself and muttering incoherently. I could not ignore his sick deeds anymore.
Once the metal cooled, Nathaniel carefully placed the steam-pumping heart within the rib cage, then fused the metal together with more bolts. He cranked the gear on the wall, adjusting the electrical needle until it touched the metal cage, then stood back, admiring his work. Satisfied with this new grotesque device, he walked over to the table and picked up a syringe, tapping its side with his forefinger.