Chapter 4

William Gull left her there, receding back into the shadows after fixing his clothes, and gathering his kit, which he took with him. As he carefully snaked back to his own rooms, the sounds of Katherine's quiet sobs haunted him.

By the time he was in the seclusion of his office, kit set upon his desk, he bore his weight on the ancient furnishing, to steady himself. His lust and his deed tonight had made him feel the thrill of youth once more, as though he were still the robust young man he once had been. In the stillness of heavy, sobering reality now, truth came crashing into him. He was too old for these things. After seventy-one years in the world, and a stroke that had been nearly debilitating, why was he partaking of such nonsense?

He mused that Katherine hadn't known his age. It was commonly considered by his acquaintances that he looked to be in his prime, and some days he felt it - but exertions as those he had just been party to left him feeling his age.

After a few slightly labored, but steadying breaths, he drew his chair and sat heavily. Realization hit him as his eyes fell upon the papers he had left strewn across the desk's surface. He'd gotten so caught up in the young woman that had decided to prod him for information that he'd completely neglected to not only sate her curiosity, but also to formulate plans regarding Prince Albert. The brunt of the burden was on his shoulders, a weight he now felt the full force of. Exhausted or not, there was work to be done.

Gull closed his eyes as if to shut out his responsibilities to the troublesome prince, and exhaled as much of his mounting frustration as he could. That boy was irritatingly fond of doing whatever he pleased - and to hell with decorum. The Doctor could remember easily multiple occasions on which someone or other from the Special Branch would have to corral the prince and drag him back to the palace. It seemed as long as he was in London at all he was determined to spend as much of his ample time as possible carousing in Whitechapel, whether with artists, or whores, anyone that brought him amusement.

This time, however, the chaos was larger than the Doctor cared to deal with. He's lectured the prince at length over this marriage already. Gull kept the information close to him for a long time before it finally reached the wrong ears - hoping in vain that Albert would be successful at keeping his escapade of a marriage to Anne Crook a secret.

The Doctor pressed his palm to his brow, a dull headache blossoming over his right eye. Grudgingly, he focused on the notes from Ben Kidney. Tomorrow the Special Branch would launch its investigation officially. He knew what that meant. The little wife would be taken for questioning. Albert would be brought back to the palace, probably for the last time. The Queen was annoyed and felt little in the way of patience for her wayward grandson.

A phrase in Kidney's hand leapt out at the Doctor, seizing his attention. '5 Unfortunates - friends of Anne - witnessed the wedding. Names unknown.'

The hand that had been suppressing his headache drifted to scratch his snowy hair in thought. Five witnesses to silence, he ruminated, growling in annoyance. They needed the names, and soon. The more he learned, the more he could sense the building amount of work that needed to be done to cover the prince's tracks, and it did not please him.

Mary Kelly awoke the next morning more rested than she'd felt in months. The priest had been very kind to her, having given her a full meal - a luxury she hadn't known in what felt like ages - and some pocket money to "keep her off the street". Embarrassment crept upon her as she recalled the awkwardness of accepting the gift, but she was nevertheless grateful for it.

It was with willingness to face the day that she rose, seeing her one room apartment with new optimism. She made quick work of making her bed, humming as she did so. Things weren't quite as bad as she'd reckoned, were they?

The glint of a few coins on the table told her that Liz had been by, at least briefly. She smiled softly to herself at that knowledge, and the remembrance of the fact that she and her friends, Annie included, were all to meet up at some point today. She considered this, surmising that around noon would be the most likely time. Most, if not all, of the other girls would be sleeping off hangovers.

Mary chose the cleanest of her three dresses to wear. She struggled to lace her corset without assistance, but did so with patience, glad when it was done and she could move on to something more amusing. The money on the table she counted, and placed safely in her pocket. Still humming, she lifted her shawl, draping it over one arm, and took a final glance around the room before leaving.

"Rent tomorrow, Mary Kelly," her Landlord, Mr. McCarthy, bellowed the reminder from the second floor of his building.

"You'll have it." Mary yelled in response, not turning to look at him.

Clutching her shawl to her, she glanced passively around her as her footsteps drew her ever nearer to the Ten Bells. As she came closer to the pub, a faint sense of unease crept upon her, settling at the back of her neck. Across the street from the Ten Bells she could see Christ Church, and the sight of the tall white steeple was comforting, bringing to her recollection the words of the priest.