Chapter One
-August 3, 1888-
His peircing eyes watched Emma Smith as she was attacked. He didn't care if she was an unfortunate one today. It served her right. It served them all right. His thoughts were bitter, yes. But he had a right reason. He hated all women at the moment. He would for a while. A friend that was dear to him, passed from an unknown disease he got from a woman. A prostitute. He sighed & turned into the shadows, walking to his lodging, his footsteps loud on the wet cobblestone.
When he reached his lodging, he went to his room & unlocked his door, walking in to see his servant, Christopher, reading by the light of a candle.
Christopher looked up & smiled slightly at his master. "'Elo master Justin. 'Ave you a nice walk-about?" he asked, watching as his master shut the door & hung his coat by the door.
"Mind yer own self," Justin snapped, sitting in his chair.
Christopher frowned. "Sorry sir," he softly replied, looking back to his book.
Justin took in his servant's appearance. His short brown hair was slicked back, his soft brown eyes glistened in the candle light. His black pants & white shirt were both clean & nice looking.
"Christopher?"
Christopher looked up to Justin. "Yes Gov?"
"Why are you reading by candle at two in the aft?"
"Because sir, I know you like it dark in here," Christopher explained. "And I didnot want to upset ye any."
Justin grinned at his servant's respect. He always had been respectful to Justin's wishes. "If you wish, Christopher, you may open a curtain or two to provide proper lighting. A little reward for respecting me."
Christopher smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Really gov'na? Do you mean it?"
Justin nodded, a small smile on his face. "Go on ahead Christopher. You deserve it."
"Thank you so much sir!" Christopher smiled, opening up a curtain by the table he was sitting at.
Justin smiled a little & looked out the window, watching a bird that was pirched on the window sill.
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The next morning brought ideas to Justin's mind. He needed to go for a walk.
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-August 6, 1888-
Justin stared out the window of his horse-drawn carriage that was driven by Christopher. Tonight, he had felt the need for a little fresh air. The lodging apartment had gotten to be a little too stuffy. He had managed to block out the loud sound of the eight hooves clopping loudly on the cobblestone pavement. He had so much on his mind, yet he managed to notice a familiar-looking woman on the sidewalk. He took a closer look & took notice of who she was. Martha Tabram. The woman who gave his friend that passed, the disease that took him.
"Christopher, stop the carriage," Justin spoke loud enough for Christopher to hear him.
He grinned wickedly as he felt the carriage pull to a slow stop. Pouring two fingers of Brandy, he opened the door, waving for Martha to come to him. She slowly approached his carriage.
"Can I 'elp you gov'na?" she smiled.
He held out a hand to her. "Care to join me lovely?" he smiled.
"What 'ave ye to offer?" she asked, cautious of getting ripped off by a potential customer.
He pulled his hand into the carriage & soon returned it to her, holding a small group of grapes. "Is this enough?"
Her eyes lit up as she stepped into the carriage. She took the grapes as hr handed them to her. "So, what can I do for ya sir?"
Justin grinned. "I have something in mind."
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-August 8, 1888-
Justin awoke to the feeling of eyes burning into him. Rolling over on his bed, he opened his eyes to see Christopher looking at him, laying on his cot. He rubbed his eyes & looked at Christopher. "Is somethin' the matta Christopher?" he asked.
"Gov'na," he said, playing with the edge of his sheet, "are you afraid that the police will find out thatyer the one that murdered that woman?"
"Why should I care? She killed Joseph. She was deserving of it."
"But what if they arrest you? What will 'appen to me?"
"They will not arrest me, because they will not find out it was me," Justin assured Christopher. "And you won't turn me to the constables will ya?"
"No!" Christopher said. "I would nev'r tunr ya over. You've been to kind & wonderful to me."
"Then I 'ave noth'n to worry about," he smiled.
Christopher smiled slightly, looking at the floor.
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-August 20, 1888-
Justin closed his eyes tight, blinking back tears as he sat next to his brother's bed. He leaned back in his chair, swallowing a lump in his throat.
"Hello Jus," a weak voice spoke from the bed.
Justin looked over at the boy laying on the bed. He fainted a smile & leaned up close to the bed. "'Elo Jon," he whispered.
"What's the weather lookin' like?" Jonathon asked, coughing softly.
"Yet another cloudy one," Justin sighed, taking his young brother's hand into his own. Jonathon was dying of Typhoid. He had been suffering for a full month, & was due to pass any day now. "Doesn't seem to be a sun an'more little Jon-Jon. Not since you got ill."
"There will be a sunny day soon Justin."
"Not soon 'nough Jon, not seem 'nough."
"Did ye hear 'bout the woman they found murdad?"
"Yes. Martha Tabram. Pity 'ow they found 'er," Justin said, hiding his grin.
"How much do ya know?"
"She was stabbed to her death."
"How many times?"
"Thirty-nine."
"Wow! The murder person really let 'er 'ave it, didn't they?"
Justin chuckled softly. "Yes they did. Maybe she aggrevated them."
Jonathon smiled. "You know what?"
"What?"
"I feel a wink betta."
"That's good news Jon-Jon. Maybe if you get ev'n more betta, you can go home."
"I'd really like that."
"I'm sure you would. Now, get some rest."
Jonathon smiled & yawned softly. "But I'm not at all sleepy." He yawned again. "Honest I'm not..."
Justin smiled as Jonathon's eyes closed as he slowly drifted off.
Chapter Index