Sweet Things Dying - Chapter XX

In which Cole chases a grisly secret through the dark streets of Whitechapel....

XX

A scrawny rat nosed Cole’s boot. He raised his foot to stomp on the diseased thing, but it scurried off at the sudden threat and disappeared into the pitch blackness of the alley.

An upper window shunted open in the flat immediately beside the barbershop. There came the dull rattle of something knocking against the casement. Seconds later a heavy, wet slap hit the stonework of the alley floor, just yards from Cole. The stench of urine swelled around him, and the window above banged shut once more.

Then a long silence.

By his count it was two minutes before ten when a shuffle of leaden feet entered the alley. From the dim trace of a gas lamp to the west, the silhouette of a haggard, sloping woman in heavy dresses and ulster entered and moved forward through the void. She passed within arm’s reach of Cole, but they were invisible to each other. The sting of cheap gin – the perfume of the poor – rolled off her as she passed. The wretch dragged herself to the backdoor of the Cohens’ shop; how she had managed to find it in her state was a miracle.

Her knuckles rapped gently. She coughed and spat.

The door opened and in the glare of lamplight that spilled out, Cole glimpsed the stout figure of Emilia Cohen. She reached out, took the unsteady arm of the other woman, and eased her inside.

The door shut. Blackness again.