Quinsey Wolfe's Glass Vault

by Candace Robinson

  August pulls me back. “Are you sure you want to look. It isn’t going to help anything.”

  I stare at him. “I know, but I want to be sure she isn’t still alive in case she needs someone there. Are you sure you want to look?”

  “I’m going to be honest here. Not really, but there is no way I’m going to let you walk over there by yourself,” he says quietly.

  I don’t want to either, but I need to figure out this situation.

  We walk quickly to the body lying on the ground. August reaches her right before I do.

  There is blood surrounding her. The woman is wearing a yellow dress that is pulled up above her waist, and all I see is red. There is red by her legs, red by her head, and red by her arms.

  My hand goes to my mouth, and August leans down, as if he is going to check her pulse, but there is no point. No one would be able to survive this savagery that has taken this woman’s life. The part of her face that I can see is a brutal mess. Something in the expression on her face draws me forward to take a closer look.

  I walk around her left side and take a step closer and see that most of the left side of her face is undamaged with black, long, silky hair sprawled about her. Then I step back and almost trip over the body but catch myself.

  “August, I know her.”

  His head whips over to mine. “What are you talking about?”

  My eyes are staring desperately into his. “This woman, I know her.”

  He chews on his lip while looking at her face again and shakes his head and then stands up. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  I point to my chest and tap it several times. “You haven’t, but I have. This is the officer that I met at Neven’s and again when I went with Aunt Krista and Uncle Jaron to the police station. It’s Officer Rodriguez.” I back away a few steps from the body.

  August’s left eyebrow goes up, and his right eyebrow goes down. “Well, how did she get here?”

  “I don’t know, genius. I suppose the same way we got here. She probably went to check out the museum like she said she was going to do. Then I assume she got sucked into this demonic prison like we did.”

  He lifts his finger and points it up at the sky and waves it like a sword. “Touché.”

  I look at the undamaged side of her strong and pretty face one more time. If a well-trained officer couldn’t escape Jack the Ripper, then how are we supposed to?

  I turn away, and August is struck with a sudden realization. “We have to go back to the pub until it’s daylight again; we can’t stay out here any longer.”

  He’s remembering what I told him about Mary Kelly being murdered after Catherine Eddowes. I know that is what he is worried about, or maybe it’s just me.

  I latch onto his hand, and we hurry back to the brothel. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Officer Rodriguez. When did she get here, and how long had she been here? I didn’t see any sign of life when we were out earlier. Whatever happened must have happened fast.

  When we walk into the pub, there are a lot of people surrounding Fannie. She is talking about everything that she saw.

  She is saying how she saw a tall man dressed all in black with a top hat and cloak to match his suit and black shoes. Fannie saw him as he was walking away and stayed quiet, so she wouldn’t get ripped apart, too. Her hands are running through the strands of her wild, red hair as she continues answering everyone’s questions that she can answer.

  I may be strong in certain situations, but I would have done the same thing that Fannie did and stayed quiet. Officer Rodriguez had already been murdered. If Fannie had yelled at him or tried to attack him, then she would have most likely been killed and lying in her own puddle of blood in that old alleyway.

  “Do you want to go to the room?” August whispers so that only I can hear.

  “Yes.” I take one more look at the group, and then we walk slowly back to the room. I should think some more to myself and talk things out with August about this, but everything we do seems like trial and error, that there is no definite explanation. It’s as if this place is a riddle without an answer, an experiment without a solution, or a lock without a key.

  When we get into the bedroom, I don’t even sit on the bed. I walk straight and sit on the hard floor and prop my back against the foot of it.

  August slides down beside me and places his body next to mine, leaning his cheek against the top of my head. “Don’t even think about it, Perrie.”

  I play with the hem of my skirt. “How can I not think about it, August? I’m going to be next.”

  Chapter 17

  I can’t help knowing that I will be next. Mary Kelly was murdered after Catherine. I don’t want to even think about dying like these victims.

  August’s face is stern, and his frown sits so deep that it may actually stay that way. “I’m not going to let that happen to you.”

  “That is easy for you to say. You aren’t Mary Kelly, and you aren’t the one that’s going to be hunted down and cut to pieces inside out!”

  “Well, you aren’t Mary Kelly. You’re Perrie Madeline, and we are leaving here just like we left Sleepy Hollow. Yes, we may enter a new hell, but then we’ll get out of there together because that’s what we do. We have been a team, we will always be a team. Hell, we were a team even when you hated me.”

  I roll my eyes and palm my forehead. “You mean that whole hour I hated you? Even then I don’t think I hated you completely, I was just mad.”

  He knocks his shoulder against mine. “Oh no, you definitely hated me. That was loathing at its finest.”

  I lean my head against his shoulder and tighten my arms around his waist to soak in his warmth. “Okay, maybe just a little bit,” I laugh. “I’m truly sorry about judging you before I got to know such fine character in another human being.”

  He snorts. “I will take that answer.”

  We sit there and debate back and forth on how we can get the barrier to open, and we come up with nothing.

  August reaches up and scratches his head, lost in his thoughts. “Maybe it has something to do with not having seen Jack the Ripper, yet?”

  I loosen my arms around his waist, pull up and look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “When we went through the barrier last time, the Headless Horseman, or the Taker,” he even makes air quotes in the air, and my lips are twitching wanting to laugh yet not disturb his thought process, “was chasing after us, so maybe he has to make some kind of appearance before we can make our exit.”

  My mouth puckers and moves to the side. “Hmm. Since I’m pretty much stumped right now, I’m going to consider this option. Even though that has to be the least appealing thing we could have come up with. I for one do not have any intentions of coming face to face with one of the most notorious serial killers in our history.”

  August purses his lips and raises his eyebrows.

  “So, you are fine and dandy with hunting up and down the street and calling out Jack’s name to lure him out of his darkened alleyways?” I give him a hard stare.

  He lets out a long sigh. “No, but our only other option is to sit around in this room for the rest of our lives. Who’s to say Jack won’t come barging into this room either.”

  Maybe I’m stupid, but I honestly didn’t even consider that as a possibility. I just assumed we would have to be out walking the streets for Jack to hunt a victim down. It isn’t like anyone knows who he is. What if he can just walk into the pub and search the halls until he locates my room?

  “Okay, August, let’s do this. What if the barrier still doesn’t open?”

  “Then we will have to run like hell and bring some weapons.” A gun would be ideal if we could find one.

  We search the room to see if we can find anything worth using. I find nothing that is suitable as a weapon.

  August searches with his hand under the mattress and comes away with nothing except air. “Maybe I should hunt down Thomas and steal his wooden cane from him.”

/>   “Yeah, I don’t know about that. Thomas seemed to be a master with that cane, and I don’t even want to know what else he does with it,” I shiver, grossed out from the thought.

  He gets down on his knees and searches below the bed, reaching so far under there that his arm looks like it may get ripped out of the socket. He comes away with nothing again. “Oh, I can imagine, and I don’t want to get those thoughts in my head now.” He pulls himself to stand in defeat from his useless search.

  August asks me if I want to rest before we go, or if I want to leave now. I tell him that I don’t want to sit around this room anymore just waiting for him or me to be slaughtered like Officer Rodriguez.

  The whole situation is making me sick. I was the one that told her about Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault, and now my thoughts are processing. I can’t help but see how I put her in this predicament. I know I wasn’t the one that murdered her, but there are so many what ifs. What if we had never seen the Glass Museum that day? What if Maisie never stopped in front of it, or better yet, what if we had never gotten out of the car? This list could go on for eternity.

  I wish that Officer Rodriguez had forgotten to check out the museum. That is a silly notion because I know from the two times I met her that she wasn’t one of those slacker cops, she was the real deal.

  “You know none of this is your fault, Perrie. The situation is what it is.”

  That pulls me out of my sulking thoughts. “All right. Let’s try this again. We are just going to have to look around the pub and find what we can to protect ourselves.”

  We leave the room, hopefully, for the last time. I follow August down the narrow hallway, until we reach the pub. There are a few people sitting around at tables, but most of them must be in their rooms doing their business. The only weapons we find are some semi-sharp knives and some forks as backup. That is a whole lot better than having nothing with us while we search.

  We leave the pub, walking outside and into the night. The darkness curtains itself around the city, and there is a touch of wind that folds and bends its way around us. The streets are lit up to guide our way in whichever direction we choose to follow.

  “Okay we are outside, and no one is here. So, do we just stand around here and wait, or do you want to walk?” I clench the utensils in my grip.

  “I don’t want to get snuck up on from behind.” August sounds exasperated and runs a hand through his hair.

  I look over to where Officer Rodriguez was earlier. “August, where’s the body?”

  His eyes go to where mine are where the body had previously been. “The police must have moved her. Although, we haven’t seen anyone outside. With how this place works, I’m sure she just vanished somewhere.”

  I shoot him a look. “Not a time for joking at this particular moment.”

  “No one is joking here.”

  “You’re right. I’m sure some weird crap went down,” I agree.

  We contemplate a little longer, and then we decide to go where the last murder took place. We walk past a couple of buildings, until we reach our destination.

  I stand facing one direction, constantly rotating from one foot to the other with my back propped up against August’s back. He faces the other direction, trying to see in the most directions possible.

  After standing in our spot for a while, I notice a smell that invades my nostrils. “August, not to complain, but it smells really bad over here.”

  August takes a deep inhale and gags a little. “I shouldn’t have taken that deep of a breath. It smells like rotten piss.”

  “Can piss smell rotten?” I laugh.

  “This piss can. It’s probably years built up of people coming out here and going on the side of the building.”

  “That is gross. How long should we stay standing here?” My legs are growing even more restless, and my attention span is flickering.

  August starts to scratch his bicep. “Is your ADHD kicking in now?”

  “August, you know I don’t have ADHD,” I huff.

  “Really? You could have fooled me.”

  Suddenly, I hear a scratching noise. Our bodies stiffen at the same time and are connected, as if we are conjoined.

  The sound comes from my right, but I don’t see anything. Then another scratching noise erupts from our left. It’s a long, eerie sound, worse than nails against a chalkboard. I grip a knife in each hand, and a couple of forks are ready in the side of my shoe. August doesn’t say anything, and neither do I.

  Next, there is a loud, slow creak—like the sound of a door hinge opening that is in desperate need of oil—that comes from our right. I still can’t see a single thing. I may be stupid for standing out here, but I’m not dumb enough to walk over in the direction of the commotion. There is nothing but darkness from where the disturbances are coming from.

  “August,” I whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “Please tell me you have taken karate or something like that.”

  His head whips as far around as it can go. “No, but I can punch someone in the face. Well, we’ll see if I can anyway. Have you?”

  “No! All I took was ballet when I was like four,” I groan.

  “Good, then you should be extra light on your feet.”

  Another creaking noise and then a cracking clamor. Then there is a clack, clack, clack which sounds like running feet against the ground. I don’t see anyone in the direction I think it’s coming from. Then it all occurs at once, a black shadow pops into my peripheral vision, and I push back against August. I shove him out of the way, but I’m too slow.

  The shadow which isn’t a shadow, but it’s a person that is dressed all in black with a dark cloak that is swinging as they spin around and around. Then there are flashes of silver. For a split second I think of a magician at a magic show, and then there is a stinging sensation against my arm. The knife in that hand clanks when it strikes the ground below after I drop it. The person runs in the other direction, and my hand goes to my forearm.

  My hand comes away with warm blood, and the cut stings. August’s attention is now on me and my stupid arm instead of the murderer. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s try for the barrier.”

  August hesitates for a moment. Then we decide on the direction that will take us past the brothel, and we start to run.

  As we approach the brothel, which takes only a minute, there is a lady standing outside. No, not just any lady, but Officer Rodriguez. She’s dressed in the exact same yellow dress that I just saw her lying in a pool of blood in. Her face isn’t marred but flawless with both sides matching equally.

  “Hey, Mary,” she calls, “How about you lend your gentlemen over to me for the night.” She turns her head to August. “I’ll even lower the price for the night, love.”

  I don’t want to make one of those stupid mistakes, but I’m afraid I’ll be making one now. “Officer Rodriguez?”

  She tilts her head and looks at me, as if I have lost my mind. “Mary, you know bloody well that my name is Catherine. Don’t act dense because you don’t want to share.”

  I tug her arm. “I don’t have time for this. Come on let’s go.” She yanks her arm out of my grasp. I did my duty here and tried.

  “We’ve got to go,” August says quickly.

  I tried, so I can’t feel too guilty right now about Officer Rodriguez. We take off running and are only a few buildings away from the barrier, when we are stopped in our tracks.

  Jack the Ripper is standing in front of us with the collar of his cloak propped high and shadowing his features. His face is wrapped in a black scarf.

  He’s smaller than I imagined he would be. Not that I put too much thought into his height, but I assumed he would have been a lot taller.

  Jack lunges at me first, and I move out of the way at the last second. My arm where it’s sliced throbs to its own tune. I try and ignore it.

  August lunges at him with one of his knives, and Jack somehow manages to knock them out of both of his hands. Then he dives
to the ground and pulls August’s legs out from underneath him so fast that I don’t have time to think about it, until I see August lying on the ground.

  I lunge forward and pull on Jack’s cloak with all my weight, and he lets out a small choking sound. It gives August enough time to get up.

  The Ripper’s knife crashes to the ground as I pull on the cape even harder. August removes the top hat and scarf that is wrapped around Jack’s hair and face.

  He unwinds the scarf quickly, and I see wild, red curls unravel. My eyes widen to the size of full moons, but I don’t dare release my hold.

  August steps back and glances at me. “Meet Jackie the Ripper, Perrie. Not a woman, huh?”

  I’m shocked and stunned for a moment, but then not really. Fannie is the only person we ever saw come in from outside. Besides the dead body of Officer Rodriguez, and then her unharmed living body.

  I want to ask Fannie all sorts of questions, but we don’t have time for this.

  August grabs hold of her, twisting her arms behind her back, and she thrashes like wildfire. “I am going to destroy you, Mary, from the inside out,” she spits out.

  I ignore her and look at August. “What do you want to do now? Just throw her down and run?”

  “Grab the knife and then run,” he agrees.

  I pick up the long blade from the ground. August throws Fannie like a sack of potatoes, and we haul butt to the barrier.

  There’s a loud scratching and screeching sound, and I don’t dare to look back. Then Fannie is somehow standing in front of us twirling what looks to be a scalpel in her right hand.

  I stop in my tracks, and August does, too. “Perrie, I’m going to distract her. You head to where you think the barrier might start and see if you can get through. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Don’t be stubborn!” August barks.

  “Fine!” I yell.

  “Good!” August yells back.

  August has his mind set, and I’m not going to argue. “Run left,” he whispers.

  I take off as if I’m running straight for Fannie, but then I suddenly turn to the left. She is ready for it, and she turns to run toward me. August yanks her from behind by the cloak, but it snaps off.