8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

H ugh wondered to himself if last night had all been a very strange dream. Maybe he really was so stressed about this investigation that he had imagined a creature eating a victim and Spring-Heeled Jack coming to his rescue. That thought immediately went out the window when he heard a clatter in his kitchen. He slid out of bed and hurried over to open the door. Spring-Heeled Jack looked sheepishly at him from across the small room in the little kitchen area, where the tea tray had landed on the floor. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” Hugh said, rubbing at his eyes and stepping out into the main room before realizing that he was only in his nightshirt. At least it was quite long, almost to his knees. “Can I help you with something?”

Jack shook his head. “I was going to make you breakfast, or perhaps it would be considered lunch at this time of the day. Breakfrunch? Hmm, there must be a better word.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Hugh said quickly. “I can make food for both of us.”

“I insist!” Jack said, tossing his hand dramatically into the air. “I am a guest in your humble abode, and I shall earn my keep by making you lunchfast. Hmm, no, that doesn’t really work either. I shall keep thinking on it.”

Hugh found himself smiling. “All right. Do you need any help?”

“Certainly not!” Jack said. “Do not mind me, I shall have a meal made up momentarily. Well, perhaps several momentarilies.”

Hugh sent up a silent prayer that Jack would not burn down the building as he headed into the washroom to prepare for the day. He scrubbed himself down with cold water and combed his curls so they were not sticking out at strange angles. He only rarely had to shave. He had never been able to grow a mustache the way that many of his fellow officers did, and he was sure that his boyish face was one of the reasons he was not often taken seriously as a police officer.

He dressed in his uniform pants and under shirt but waited to put on his long-sleeved blue uniform coat. He came back out into the main room to find Jack laying two plates of something on the kitchen table. One plate held a piece of toast that was nearly charcoal, the other a piece that was only barely browned. A pile of scrambled eggs lay on top of each piece of toast, along with some sliced apples. Jack gestured to the lighter of the two pieces of toast. “My first attempt was a little dark. This one should be better.”

“We can share it,” Hugh offered, but Jack waved his hand again.

“No, no. I shall not starve, I promise.”

Hugh sat down at the table, and Jack poured him a cup of tea, adding a dash of milk the way Hugh had last night. Hugh smiled a bit. It was such a small detail, but the fact that Jack had noticed and remembered was rather sweet. “Do you eat food?”

Jack nodded. “I do, though I need far less to sustain me than humans do. Your digestive systems are remarkably inefficient.”

“You don’t have to constantly eat with all of the energy you expend jumping around?” Hugh asked, picking up a fork and knife to start eating the eggs and slightly warmed over bread.

“Surprisingly, no,” Jack replied, taking a sip of the tea that was once again almost boiling hot without even a flinch.

“Can all of… you… um… the other… will-o-the-whisps jump great heights like you?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Jack said thoughtfully. “We don’t know what our final form will be until we are summoned to our soulmate.”

“You weren’t by any chance running around London fifty years or so ago, were you?” Hugh asked curiously.

“Not that I know of!” Jack said, giving the question a great deal more thought than Hugh figured it warranted. “Was there another Spring-Heeled Jack running around then?”

“Yes,” Hugh replied.

“Fascinating. I suppose it’s possible that there was another of my kind who found their soulmate then. Or, perhaps the universe just has a sense of humor.” Jack flicked his hand with the iron claws on the tips of them, and they made a metallic scraping noise that made Hugh’s teeth hurt.

“So, you don’t know where the others of your kind end up?” Hugh asked, taking a sip of the tea. That had at least turned out quite well. He wondered if Jack had watched him make it last night and learned from that.

“No,” Jack said, taking a large bite of blackened toast and egg. His sharp teeth crunched through the crispy toast loudly.

“Did you have friends or family?” Hugh asked curiously.

“No,” Jack said again, seeming to swallow the mouthful almost whole, and Hugh took a reflexive swallow of his own. “We are rather unique beings, as far as I am aware. However we come to be, our purpose is to help our soulmate. We gain much knowledge when we enter through the portal into our soulmate’s realm.”

“The… portal?” Hugh asked in confusion.

Jack nodded. “It’s quite fascinating, I shall show you sometime if you’d like.”

“I’d like that,” Hugh said.

“I suppose you are working again today,” Jack said, glancing over his uniform pants.

“Yes,” Hugh replied. “I will talk to Dr. Ledbetter and see if there is any information about the identity of the victim and the creature we encountered last night. Hopefully that will give me an idea of what to do next.”

“Excellent,” Jack said with a wave of his hand. “Where shall I meet you?”

Hugh frowned at that. “Jack, you can’t go with me.”

Jack blinked. “Why not?”

“I don’t want people seeing you.”

Jack let out a huff. “I am quite good at evading detection.”

“That is why your picture has been on the front page of every newspaper from here to Wales?” Hugh said pointedly.

Jack heaved a sigh and tipped his head back. “I had to watch out for you. This is certainly not an unpopulated location.”

“I know,” Hugh agreed. “But please. If there are monsters or strange creatures running around London, the fewer of them that people can report, the easier it might be to pinpoint the others.”

Jack screwed up his face in thought, then nodded. “I suppose that is true. But what if you encounter danger again? There is at least one more of those creatures running around.”

Something in Hugh’s chest warmed at Jack’s concern for his safety. And, he had to admit, if Jack had not been watching him last night, it was very likely he would have been ripped apart by the monster in the alley. “Well, you know my patrol,” he relented. “Can you at least wait until after dark so you’re less likely to be seen? And maybe find a way to cover your horns?”

Jack’s hand slid up to stroke over his horns, as if he had forgotten they were there. “Oh. Yes, I shall find a way to hide them. Thank you. I shall find you after the sun has set.”

“All right. Thank you for making food, Jack.”

Jack nodded, gazing back at him for a long moment. “Hugh. May I embrace you?”

Hugh blinked at the sudden request. Since their attempted kiss in the alley had been interrupted, Jack had made no move to touch him. “You… you want to… hug me?”

Jack was supposed to be his soulmate, whatever that meant. They were working together to solve these gruesome mysteries. And, as strange as it seemed, considering the circumstances, he really did find Jack attractive. Certainly, his appearance was a little frightening, or perhaps a lot to the unexpecting observer. But he was also stunning, and clever, and his dramatics were quite entertaining, which surprised Hugh, who was normally such a stoic person. Had he been a man of fewer principles, he might have already tried to act upon his baser instincts by now. What would embracing mean? Would they be more than just partners in policing? And, if so, would he be all right with that?

Jack looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. That was presumptuous of me.”

“No!” Hugh said quickly. “No, it wasn’t. I just… am not used to people asking such a thing of me.”

Jack gave a small smile. “I promise you that I shall be a gentleman and shall not make advances.”

Hugh felt his own lips curve, though he couldn’t tell himself if it was a smirk or a pout. “You won’t?”

Jack gazed back at him before his grin turned positively lascivious, showing off his pointed teeth. “Well, I shall if you wish me to.”

Hugh laughed, feeling a nervous flutter in his stomach. “I, uh… I suppose embracing for now would be a good start.”

Jack nodded and stepped closer, so that Hugh could feel the unnatural warmth of his skin through his clothing. Jack lifted his arms and, moving them slowly enough that Hugh could pull away if he so wished, wrapped them around Hugh’s shoulders.

Hugh’s arms moved of their own accord, sliding around Jack’s waist, and suddenly they were pressed together from neck to knees. Jack’s arms were around him, holding him close, warm and secure, like a blanket had been draped around him after coming in from the cold. And then Jack’s arms tightened a little, just a small squeeze to keep him close, and Hugh felt like the world had dropped out from underneath him. He closed his eyes, his own arms tightening around Jack’s waist as he leaned his cheek against the firm chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been embraced like this. Maybe he never had. Even his few sexual encounters had been quick and furtive, no long embraces or romantic kisses exchanged, only a hurried exchange of pleasantries in upper rooms or back alleys, followed by a few quick kisses and half-hearted promises to meet up again sometime. That was how men like him had to find partners, anonymous and rushed. But here, in his own rooms, where no one would see them, he could just be. They could just stand like this, holding one another, for as long as they wanted. For all eternity if that was their choice.

It was so nice to be held. He hadn’t really realized it before, but he went through life without touching very many people. When he did touch someone, it was usually because they were in distress, or he was trying to stop them from doing something they shouldn’t. Those were entirely different from physical affection too.

“Jack?” he said softly but did not pull away from the embrace.

“Yes?” Jack asked, also not moving.

“We’re going to solve this case, right?”

“Yes,” Jack replied firmly. “We will.”

“What happens after we do?”

“What?”

Hugh pulled back just enough to be able to look up into Jack’s face. “After we solve this case, what happens to us?”

“Are you asking, will I be leaving?” Jack asked.

Even though that was exactly what he was asking, hearing the words spoken out loud sent a pang through him that he had not been expecting, despite only knowing Jack a short time. “Yes,” he said, forcing the single word out as if it were stuck in his throat. Solving these murders was the most important thing right now. But Hugh found himself wondering. What would it be like to have someone by his side? In his bed? Someone tall and lean and handsome, like Jack? Surely ‘soulmates’ meant more than helping each other to solve a problem.

“I do not know what the future holds,” Jack said thoughtfully. “But once we have completed this task, I am not required to leave.”

“Do you think you will stay?” Hugh asked.

“Would you like me to stay?” Jack asked, using one finger to tip Hugh’s chin up to look at him.

Hugh flushed a little, lowering his eyes to the floor as Jack held his chin. “I think I would.”

Jack smiled softly, the gas lamps catching the sharp ends of his teeth. “Well, we’ll have plenty of time to decide.” His large hands slid up to lightly hold Hugh’s jaw, his claws carefully angled away from skin. His head dipped, and his mouth pressed to Hugh’s in a light, sweet kiss. It was softer than Hugh had thought it would be, which surprised him. He held still, his eyes drifting closed. The kiss tasted a little smoky, Jack’s lips warm against his. It lingered only for a moment before Jack pulled back, not too far. Hugh opened his eyes, finding himself staring up into Jack’s inferno ones behind his skull-like face. They were absolutely entrancing. “Was that all right?” Jack asked softly.

In response, Hugh wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, having to stand on tiptoe in his shiny boots to do so, and pressed his mouth eagerly to Jack’s. Jack let out a sound almost like a growl, pulling him close with his hands on Hugh’s waist as he kissed him back. Hugh’s hands slid to hold Jack’s jaw like Jack had done with him earlier. The spectre’s skin was so warm, but not unpleasantly hot. Hugh slowly opened his mouth against Jack’s, delighted to feel him mirror the movement, and he slid the tip of his tongue out to brush lightly over Jack’s lower lip.

Then their tongues and lips were tangled together in a passionate embrace, bodies pressed flush to one another as Jack held Hugh against him. Hugh moaned softly, his hands sliding up over Jack’s jaw to stroke up his pointed ears. The times when he had met up with other men, it had been furtive in dark alleys or upper rooms of pubs, places where being caught was always a possibility. Places where sound carried, and one could never truly block out the world. The laughs, the conversations, the clink of glasses, and the stamp of feet. Where lovemaking had to be done in whispers and stifled noises into sleeves and pillows. Here, in his own rooms, where no one could see them, it was just him and Jack, together. “Jack,” he said, reaching up to stroke his hand over the ivory bone-like mask of Jack’s cheek. “I want you.”

Jack gazed back at him. “I want you too, my darling,” he said softly.

“Will you take me to bed?” Hugh asked.

Jack smiled, the firelight catching his pointed teeth. “Yes.” He had scooped Hugh up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom, setting him gently down on the mattress with a kiss to his forehead.

Hugh swallowed hard and reached for his shirt. Jack mirrored him, reaching for his own clothes, and they silently stripped in the warmth and peace of the small room. Hugh was curious as he slid off his own clothes if Jack’s body was going to be different than a human’s, considering his already inhuman appearance about the face. But, as Jack slid his trousers down and off, Hugh saw that he was just as human as he himself, with a finely sculpted chest and stomach, shapely legs, and a thick patch of dark hair that led down to his very human-like prick. He even had dark, rosy nipples on his chest.

He sat back on his bed, naked as a newborn, and held out his arms to Jack. Jack smiled and slid into his arms, stretching them both out on the bed on their sides. Jack’s body against his own was warm, like embracing a bag of roasted chestnuts in the wintertime. Jack’s hands slid down his bare back in a loving caress, and Hugh realized with a start that the pointed metallic tips of Jack’s fingers were no longer there; he had shed them along with the rest of his clothes. He didn’t know why he had thought that they were part of the man.

Hugh rolled onto his back, Jack on top of him, their bodies pressed flush to one another as Jack’s warmth enveloped him. He sighed as Jack trailed soft kisses down his throat, over his chest, his tongue pausing to lap at one of Hugh’s nipples. That was something no one had done before, and Hugh squirmed, gasping. His hands pressed to the sides of Jack’s hips. Jack smiled in delight and flicked his tongue over the nub, watching Hugh moan and writhe beneath his ministrations. He nipped ever so lightly at the pink bud with his sharp teeth, careful not to break the skin, and Hugh’s back arched a little towards his mouth. Jack moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as it pebbled under his touch. He gave it a slightly harsher nip, watching it turn a darker pink color for a moment, and Hugh gasped. “Jack…”

Jack smiled and kissed down the center of his chest again, his tongue stroking the plane between his ribs and his navel, peppering kisses along the skin. Hugh’s fingers slid up his back to tangle lightly in Jack’s dark hair, sliding through it, then over his temples to lightly skim the base of the horns there. “May I touch these?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jack replied, giving his stomach a reassuring kiss. “You won’t hurt them.”

Hugh’s fingers brushed them curiously. They were sturdy but surprisingly light. He supposed most of Jack had to be if he was as nimble on his feet as he seemed to be. He stroked his fingers up and down them, and Jack let out a moan. “Does that feel good?” Hugh asked in surprise.

“Very,” Jack purred. Hugh smiled and wrapped his hands lightly around the horns, stroking up and down them lovingly. Jack suddenly ran his tongue over the swollen head of Hugh’s prick. Hugh let out a gasp, his thighs tightening. Jack laved over it with his tongue, stroking long and slow, each one in a different spot to find what made Hugh light up. He nosed lightly at Hugh’s sac, brushing his tongue over it and up the underside of his shaft. Small whimpers of pleasure escaped Hugh’s lips as he shivered beneath Jack’s mouth on him.

And then Jack opened his mouth wide and slid nearly the entire length down Hugh’s shaft. Hugh gasped, his hands squeezing the horns. Heat filled his veins from Jack’s mouth and throat closing around him. Jack slid down to brace himself on either side of Hugh’s hips, starting to bob his throat up and down on Hugh’s length.

Hugh tried to keep himself still as Jack’s hot mouth slid up and down his cock, sending delicious sparks through him, up his spine and down his legs, making his toes curl. “Mmm, Jack,” he breathed. His hands tightened further around the horns, pulling slightly, and he gasped, quickly letting go. “I’m sorry.”

Jack moaned around him, sliding up to the tip to give it a loving suck. “You can use my horns, my darling; you won’t hurt me.”

Hugh blinked, smiling sheepishly. “I’m not very used to this.”

“That’s all right. Allow me to acquaint you with pleasure,” Jack said. He took Hugh’s hands and wrapped them around his horns again before dipping his head again to take Hugh down his throat. Hugh cried out, his fingers tightening. Jack began to tease him with his tongue, and when he found a particular spot on the underside, Hugh’s hands on them gave a little jerk. Jack grinned and repeated the motion. Hugh let out another cry, and Jack bobbed his head to slide over that spot with each movement. His horns with the weight of Hugh’s hands acted as leverage, and before too long, Hugh was using the horns to push Jack down onto that spot over and over again, Jack eagerly sliding his mouth over him and letting Hugh steer the angle how he wanted it. Hugh writhed beneath Jack’s sinfully delicious mouth, fire building in his belly. “Jack,” he warned, and Jack squeezed his thigh encouragingly as he continued to suck him fast and deep. Hugh rutted against him a few more times before the pleasure overwhelmed him, and he spilled himself into Jack’s open throat, his hips grinding up toward him of their own accord. Jack continued to lap and stroke over him as Hugh writhed and jumped with little jolts of pleasure traveling down his spine. Only when Hugh sagged against the mattress and had loosened his grip on Jack’s horns did he pull back, swallowing what was in his mouth and running his tongue over his lips.

“My sweet darling,” he cooed.

Hugh breathed deeply beneath him, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he waited for his heart to stop racing, little lightning strikes of pleasure still coursing through his body. He had closed his eyes at some point, and he opened them now to find Jack still tucked in between his legs, gazing fondly up at him, his cheek resting on Hugh’s lower stomach. He gave him a hazy smile. “Wow.”

Jack laughed and pressed a kiss to a soft bit of skin. “Wow indeed. I also accept ‘amazing’ and ‘well done, old chap.’”

Hugh snorted a laugh, clapping a hand to his mouth. “You really are too much.”

Jack smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Hugh’s throat. Hugh felt something warm brush his thigh and realized that Jack had not yet spent himself. He slid his hand down to grasp his shaft, stroking over it, using the dampness there to ease the movement. Jack moaned against his skin and gave his neck a little nip with his sharp teeth. Hugh gasped, his hand moving faster, and Jack nudged against his neck and kissed down over his shoulder. “Yes,” he encouraged, his hips pushing into Hugh’s touch eagerly. Hugh pulled him up to kiss him as he stroked, and Jack let out a pleading sound against his lips that made Hugh warm all over. He stroked Jack firmly, watching the man’s eyes roll upward before he spilled himself over Hugh’s hand with a loud gasp.

Hugh flushed, continuing to stroke Jack through his pleasure until the man shuddered and rested down against him. Hugh lifted his hand coated in Jack’s seed up to his mouth and licked at it. Jack grinned as he watched him. “You are beautiful.”

Hugh smiled and licked his hand clean before pulling Jack up to rest next to him on the pillow. Jack curled close, spooning behind him on the small bed. Hugh sighed contentedly. If this was what having a soulmate was, he didn’t want it to end. He would have to get ready for work soon, but right now, just lying in Jack’s arms, satiated and content, was incredible. “So, how do you know I’m your soulmate?” he asked curiously, pressing his cheek into Jack’s arm.

Jack hummed thoughtfully. “It’s hard to explain, because I don’t entirely know how it works myself. It’s almost like I can feel you. Like you are at one end of a string, and I am at the other. You pull on the string, and I feel it, no matter where I am.”

“Do you know if I’m in trouble or anything?” Hugh asked curiously.

“No,” Jack said with a heavy, forlorn sigh. “Nothing so nuanced as that, I’m afraid.”

“Just a gut feeling?” Hugh said.

Jack frowned a bit. “A what now?”

Hugh laughed, a bit surprised that Jack did not understand that phrase, considering some of the others he had come up with before. “Your body feels something, even if you don’t know exactly what it is or why.”

“Yes, just like that,” Jack said, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “I look at you, and I feel. I feel like the stars have aligned in the universe, like I am under a warm waterfall, like I am watching puppies play in a mud puddle.”

Hugh couldn’t stop a snort of laughter at that. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Mm, I have wondered if I come on too strong for you,” Jack said, tracing his fingertips lightly over Hugh’s thigh, and Hugh was glad that the metal tips were no longer on them. “But I suppose the universe must know what it’s doing if I am your soulmate.”

Hugh raised a brow. “Are you saying I’m too serious?”

Jack chuckled and nipped lightly at Hugh’s neck again. “Perhaps.”

“I suppose I am,” Hugh said thoughtfully. “Always have been too much in my own head.”

“It’s easy to do,” Jack agreed.

“Does it bother you?” Hugh asked softly.

“Hmm? You being serious?” Hugh nodded. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all,” Jack replied, tracing his fingers over Hugh’s soft sides. “I think sometimes opposites are meant to be together. To support one another. To be the strength where the other might be lacking. It doesn’t always work, of course, but when it does, it creates a beautiful harmony.”

Hugh smiled and hugged Jack’s arm tightly. “I hope we can create that harmony together.”

“Having hope is always a good first step,” Jack replied. “A good second step is a willingness to let go of your soulmate’s arm so he can get you some tea.”

Hugh couldn’t stop a laugh. “Oh, very well,” he said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I need to get ready for work anyway.”

It was strange to have someone to say goodbye to before he left for work. But it was also nice, to know that someone was watching out for him. Hugh cleaned up and dressed in his uniform. He almost didn’t want to leave Jack, but he knew he had a job to do, and he would see him later that night, once Jack was able to move around without being spotted as easily. Hugh kissed him goodbye, something he wondered if he would be able to do every day going forward, before he headed out of his apartment and down to the busy London streets to Scotland Yard. Dr. Ledbetter had left him a note that the burned body had been identified and to come see him as soon as he arrived, so Hugh made his way out back to the backyard butchers and the morgue.

He stared down at the charred corpse on the table in front of him in confusion. He knew that the fire had probably burned the creature pretty severely, but what lay on the table now, still smelling of ash and burned meat, was not the monstrous fanged creature that had lunged at him. This was a man, his teeth of average length, his cloudy eyes looking as human as a corpse could. His hands were simply hands, though several of his fingers had been burned almost to the bone.

“Was this what he looked like when he was brought in?” Hugh asked.

Dr. Ledbetter stood next to him and frowned at the question. “I mean, the body has decomposed and collapsed a bit more in that time.”

“But his teeth looked like this? They weren’t bigger and sharper?”

Dr. Ledbetter raised a brow behind his spectacles. “No. That is not how teeth work.”

“I know that,” Hugh said with a slight glower at his friend. “But the thing that attacked me was larger and had clawed hands and pointed teeth.”

“Well, this is the body that came in from Prosperity Way.”

That was where he had encountered the creature and its unfortunate victim. Hugh sighed as he studied the body again. The clothing looked right; the battered top hat sitting off to the side appeared to be the one that had been perched on the creature’s head, and the cape, while a bloodied and burned mess, also looked familiar. Another aspect to this strange case that was only getting stranger by the moment. “Who was he?” Hugh asked with a slight frown.

“Viscount Emeril Jardin,” Dr. Ledbetter said. “His brother identified the body, and this,” he pointed to a silver pin on a side table next to the top hat that had survived the blaze, “is their family crest.”

“A viscount,” Hugh said with a frown. A viscount attacking a prostitute in the street would be unusual but certainly not unheard of. The rich often thought that the law did not apply to them, since they had any amount of money to buy their way out of trouble. That was often the way of the world, he knew, but that certainly did not make it right.

Dr. Ledbetter nodded. “I have already spoken with Sergeant Reardon. There will be an inquest as required, but the death will be attributed to an accident.”

“An accident?” Hugh said with a frown. “He butchered that poor young man.”

“From what I have been told, he stumbled upon the man who was already dead, and when he leaned down to see if he was still alive, his cloak was ignited by the lamp he had with him.”

Hugh frowned darkly. “That’s complete and utter bullshit.”

Ledbetter gave Hugh a pointed look. “I know that, and you know that, Hugh, but we have to play the game the rich people are playing.”

“Even if that means he gets away with murder?” Hugh demanded.

“That is not my call to make,” Dr. Ledbetter said, though he sounded highly apologetic.

Hugh sighed in frustration and rubbed at his eyes. “Nathan, do you believe in the supernatural?”

His friend looked up at him in surprise. “You mean, ghosts and the like?”

“Something like that,” Hugh said. “Ghosts, monsters, demons, any of that?”

Ledbetter stroked his beard in thought. “I’m a man of science, Hugh. Whether I believe in it or not, I’ve never seen a ghost or a demon, and the only monsters I know of are the human ones who kill other humans. Plenty of those around.”

“But do you think they could exist? That monsters, actual monsters, could exist?” Hugh asked.

Dr. Ledbetter sighed. “I think it’s a possibility. There is plenty we don’t know about our world. But whether they are running around the streets of London, well… That, I don’t know that I could believe as easily.”

Hugh nodded. If he hadn’t seen it for himself, smelled the blood in the air and the rot of flesh, felt the mind-numbing terror as those vicious teeth turned to him in the darkness, he might have agreed with his friend. Monsters and ghouls were for the dark forests and foggy moors, not the gaslit streets of London. But they were real. And Jack was real. He was alive because of that.

“I examined the contents of the viscount’s stomach,” Ledbetter said, gesturing to a glass jar filled with a gunky fluid that was tinged bright red with blood, and Hugh felt his own stomach squeeze. He quickly turned his eyes back to the doctor. “I found a fair bit of human tissue in it. Some pieces of organ, bits of bone. What I could distinguish matches the damage done to the young man found in the alley with him. But I found something else in his stomach as well.”

“Oh?” Hugh asked when it seemed that Ledbetter was waiting for his reply. Dramatic bastard…

“In addition, I found apple and pastry in it. Some sort of apple pie or cobbler, perhaps?”

Hugh blinked. “Apple pastry?”

Dr. Ledbetter nodded. “Yes. And remnants of alcohol and a half-digested meal of beef and carrots. But he would have eaten this pastry shortly before he died. Perhaps an hour at most. It was barely digested, like the human flesh.”

Apple was common, but it was a starting point. “Did you also finish the autopsy on the victim?”

“I did,” Dr. Ledbetter said, gesturing him over to another table. The youth’s soft blond hair was clumped with dirt and clots of blood, his eyes wide and staring at nothing, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream. He looked terrified, and, based on what he had encountered in the alley, Hugh could not blame him. Dr. Ledbetter gestured to the table behind them. “Not much remarkable about him, I’m afraid. A few coins in his pockets, and a small tin of hand cream. But I did find one thing interesting.” Dr. Ledbetter used a pair of forceps to lift something that was wadded up in a tight ball. He held it up for Hugh to get a better look at it.

It was a piece of gold paper. It was crumpled into a ball and nearly soaked through with dried blood. Only the corner Dr. Ledbetter held it by was clear of blood, with a greasy spot on it. Hugh frowned. “Where did you find this?”

“In the chest cavity,” Dr. Ledbetter said, gesturing to the young man on the table. “Not like he had swallowed it though. I am fairly certain it fell in there from someone bending over him, and it absorbed his blood.”

“Someone bending over him,” Hugh said with a frown. “You mean, like the murderer?”

“Plausible,” Dr. Ledbetter said.

“Did the viscount have anything like this paper on him?”

“No, but if he did, it’s also very likely it would have been destroyed when he ignited. I would guess that, if the viscount is indeed the one who murdered the young man, this fell out of his pocket after the chest was ripped open, and he was too distracted to notice it.”

“Too busy eating him,” Hugh mumbled.

“Yes,” Dr. Ledbetter said with a wrinkle of his nose. “That.”

“What sort of paper is it?” Hugh asked, examining it as best he could in the fading light from the window and the flickering gas lamps.

“As near as I can tell, it looks like decorative folding paper, but this grease spot leads me to think that it was perhaps used by a food stall or restaurant, to wrap around something,” Dr. Ledbetter said. “If it was recent, and not left over from some other time, my money would be on the apple pastry. Meat and potatoes seem an unlikely culprit.”

Hugh would agree with that assessment, though he had never seen a place that used gold paper such as that. Most places used simple brown paper, or even newsprint for greasy things like fish and chips. Of course, assuming that was the case, tracking it down might be next to impossible. Apples were a common ingredient, as was flour and sugar. There were hundreds of bakeries and food stalls just in London by itself, and that did not include the home bakers.

“Were you able to identify the victim?” he asked, motioning to the young man, whose lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, as if he was shocked to be there. Blood spattered his face, but Hugh could see that he was young and handsome, like the other recent victims.

Dr. Ledbetter shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. One of the inspectors took a photograph to put out to see if anyone recognizes him. I will let you know if I hear anything.”

Hugh nodded. For right now, the young man would have to wait to receive the justice he deserved.

“These killings remind me of the Ripper murders and the torso murders,” Ledbetter mused, stroking his graying chestnut beard thoughtfully. “The killer of those women was never found. The attacks were savage, committed mostly on the street where anyone could come upon them, and committed mainly against prostitutes or other destitute individuals.”

“Do you think that one of the killers of these young men might be Jack the Ripper?” Hugh asked curiously.

“I suppose it’s possible,” the doctor said. “The savagery is there. But those murders were much more precise and methodical. These slayings are more frantic. Animalistic, even. It would be strange for someone to kill so precisely and then suddenly devolve into this level of violence. Even if the killer’s mind was becoming more unstable, his experience and handiwork would likely improve, not reach this level of unhinged ferocity.”

The last thing they needed was a killer like Jack the Ripper preying on the vulnerable people of London. The viscount was dead, but Jack had said that he had seen a different creature running away from Christopher’s body that first night. And that still left many unanswered questions, not the least of which was, what caused the strange transformation from man to beast to man again?

“I suppose a good next step would be to visit the home of the viscount and see if his widow or his servants can tell me anything about what his plans were for that evening,” Hugh said, glancing over the blood-stained gold paper once more.

Dr. Ledbetter nodded. “Good luck, Constable. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”