Part 6 (2/2)
”You wouldn't like to leave your bunk,” he said. ”There is is a lady present.” a lady present.”
”And you'd better not harm her, if you know what's good for you.”
She gave me a wild, pleading look as if she hoped I'd settle down and not get myself killed in her presence.
”I shouldn't risk vexing me,” the Ripper said, ”were I in your rather precarious position. I'm quite displeased with you. It would do my heart wonders to peel the hide off your body and enjoy your screams.”
”It did my my heart wonders to lop off your nose,” I said. heart wonders to lop off your nose,” I said.
His upper lip twitched. He pounded his left hand down on the gal's stomach. Her wind gushed out and she bucked, half sitting up. He yanked her hair so her head dropped down on his lap again. Her face was bright red as she gasped for air.
”I quite enjoyed that,” he said.
His message was clear. If I should do anything to displease him, he would take it out on her.
”I suppose you have a name,” he said to me.
”Trevor. Trevor Wellington Bentley.”
”What a high-sounding name for a scurvy ruffian.”
I held my tongue.
”Trevor, you know know who I am, I daresay.” who I am, I daresay.”
”Jack the Ripper.”
”Bravo! A keen mind. In plain truth, however, my name is Roderick Whittle. And this dear morsel is Trudy Armitage, a Yank. Trudy has agreed to play the role of Helpless Captive for the duration of our voyage. You have the honor of being aboard her family yacht, the True D. Light. True D. Light. Rather disgustingly clever wouldn't you say?” Rather disgustingly clever wouldn't you say?”
I chose to say nothing, and just stared at him.
He stared back.
After a bit, he said, ”You led me a merry chase, young Trevor. I was quite set to cut your heart out, you know, but all's well that ends well, as the Bard is apt to say. You rendered me a service, leading me here. Things were getting quite warm for me. I'd been considering the merits of a sea voyage, and you led me to just the proper craft for such a venture. It hasn't the necessary provisions for the trip I have in mind, but it came equipped with crew and captive.” He stroked Trudy's thick brown hair, and smiled down at her. ”They were all set to sail with the tide, Trudy and her groom fast asleep while her father busied himself with final preparations. I was forced to dispatch the father.”
When he said that, Trudy's eyes blinked and watered. Her chin trembled.
Whittle patted her head. ”There, there, no use in crying over Papa. He's with the Lord now-and the fish.”
She cried all the harder, gasping and shaking as the tears rolled down her face.
I felt mighty sorry for her. I knew how hard it was, having a father killed. But that wouldn't be nearly as hard as what Roderick Whittle likely had in mind for her.
She was a pretty thing, no older than twenty. She looked buxom and healthy, broad across the shoulders and hips, with heavy bosoms that bounced around under her nightdress because of how she shook with her crying. I caught myself watching how they moved, and looked away quick.
Not that the sight of them stirred me up. Not after the pair I'd seen in Mary's room.
I watched Whittle stroke her hair.
And feared what might be going through his head.
”Where are we going?” I asked, intending to distract him.
He looked over at me. ”Just now, we're sailing down the Thames. The original destination was to be Calais. Isn't that right, Trudy?”
She nodded and sobbed.
”However, my command of the French language is really quite poor. I'd be quite silly to take up residence where the natives don't speak my tongue. No, such a place is not for me. I rather fancy trying my luck in America, instead.”
”America?”
”I'm sure you must've heard of it. The Colonies?”
”That's three thousand miles three thousand miles away.” away.”
”Quite. A trifle farther, actually.”
”We can't make a crossing this time of the year!”
”Oh, but we shall certainly have a go at it.”
The man was mad. But that goes without saying when you consider what he'd done to women. I chose not to point it out. Trying to sound calm, I asked, ”Is this boat large enough for such a voyage?”
”How do you suppose it came to our fair isles?”
”We made our crossing in the summer,” Trudy pointed out between sniffles. ”And Michael had...Father and I to help him. He won't...be able to manage it alone.”
”Which proves my foresight in sparing young Trevor. Have you ever been to sea?” he asked me.
I shook my head.
”Not to worry. You're a quick study, and we have ample cause to know you're agile and strong. We'll give you double duty as my servant and as Michael's hand. No doubt you'll perform admirably.”
I gave it some thought. Though the idea of seeing America appealed to me, going there trapped on a boat with Whittle sure didn't. I wanted more than anything to get home to Mother. By now, she was likely frantic with worry. If I let myself get shanghaied, I'd be on the seas a month and she'd figure me lost forever or dead before I might find any way to let her know otherwise.
Of course, I reckoned I'd never get a chance to let her know a thing.
Trying to cross the Atlantic in November in a boat that couldn't be more than fifty or sixty feet from stem to stern, with only me and a stranger named Michael for its whole crew, we'd probably all wind up blowing bubbles.
If somehow we got lucky enough to survive the ocean trip, Whittle was bound to butcher all three of us the moment we got in sight of land.
Just no way he'd let us go free.
It all looked mighty bleak except for one thing. He aimed to have me help out, and I couldn't do that trussed up with ropes.
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