All in all, there wasn’t much to look at. The police had picked the scene clean. Whatever evidence there might have been was long gone. That meant it was another dead end for my investigation too.
“Don’t touch me! I’m distraught!” Bertha cried outside.
I perked up at the sound of the code word and spotted a new policeman coming toward the back door I’d entered through. I swore quietly and dodged behind the closest car.
The policeman’s boots echoed loudly across the concrete. I held my breath as he drew closer to my hiding spot. He stopped mere feet away from me and knelt to examine the bloodstain. If he looked a few inches lower, he would spot my shoes through the space beneath the car. I drew my knees toward my chest and wished for him to go away.
“Bloody awful,” he muttered to himself. “What kind of bastard would do such a thing?”
The thought must not have sat with him well because he lifted himself to his feet and hurried away. I let out an enormous sigh, regaining my composure. Outside, Bertha had quieted. I wondered where she had gone.
As I pushed myself up from the ground, something cold pricked my palm. It was a small metal pin with a single letter P emblazoned across the front. The pin had been hidden near the tire of the car, where none of the investigators had spotted it.
I dallied, questioning what to do with the pin. If I handed it in to the police, I would have to admit to sneaking into the car park. If I kept it for myself, I could use it to further my investigation.
The sound of fresh footsteps made the decision for me. I slipped the pin into my pocket and ran in the opposite direction, my feet pounding across the concrete.
“Oi, who’s there?” someone shouted.
I didn’t look behind me to see if I’d been spotted. Instead, I ducked behind an ugly SUV to break my pursuer’s line of vision. Then I switched directions and barged through another door, taking the chance that a police officer might be standing right outside.
Luckily, the officer on guard was in the middle of changing positions with his relief. Neither one of them saw me come out of the car park, though they did spot me lurking in the shadows.
“What’re you doing over there?” the new guard called. “This is a crime scene. It’s not safe.”
“Sorry!” I called. “Just looking for my friend’s cat!”
I circled around the front of the building, giving the police barricade a wide berth, and found Bertha waiting for me on the other side.
“Well?” she asked. “Did you find anything?”
“The cameras are pointed right at the murder site.” I clutched my chest, encouraging my lungs to catch up with the rest of my body. “No reason why there shouldn’t be footage.”
“I knew it. Anything else?”
I thought of the pin in my pocket. “No, nothing.”
In the morning, Evelyn found me on the couch with my nose buried in my laptop. All night, I’d been trying to match the pin from the parking garage to its owner. I wasn’t having much luck. The pin didn’t have any distinguishing features on it other than the large ornate P on the front.
“There’s eggs and bacon in the pan by the stove,” I muttered distractedly. The fresh breakfast was my attempt to convince Evelyn I hadn’t forgotten the real reason I’d come to London. Her health was my first priority. “I made muffins too. Help yourself.”
She ambled sleepily to the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in last night. Did you sleep out here?”
“I dozed on the couch for a few hours.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” She busied herself with breakfast, clinking plates and utensils together. I heard her take a muffin from the pan and fiddle with the wrapper for several long minutes. She finally approached me. “Can you do this?”
She’d gotten the wrapper halfway off. I finished the job for her and went back to scouring the Internet for the pin. Evelyn lingered in my peripheral vision.
“Need something else?” I asked.
“No, I—” She let out a deep breath through her nose. “Actually, I wanted to apologize. I know you. I shouldn’t have expected you to drop the Ripper case, and I shouldn’t have left you alone last night. I’m sorry.”
The pain in her tone made me look up. “Is everything okay?”
“I was up half the night, worried that you wouldn’t make it home,” she admitted. “It would have been my fault if the killer made you his next victim. I let my temper get the better of me, and you didn’t deserve that.”
“I totally deserved it.” I set my laptop aside for the first time in hours to turn all my attention to Evelyn. “I’m sorry too. When I came here, I didn’t expect to get wrapped up in another murder investigation.”
Evelyn smirked. “Couldn’t resist, eh?”
I laughed weakly. “I can’t promise to give it up, especially now that there’s been another mysterious death. I don’t want to lie to you anymore or get your hopes up.”
She blew out a sigh and plopped down on the couch next to me, where she started eating the muffin off a napkin on her chest. “I guess all I can do is make sure you don’t get into too much trouble.” She leaned forward and plucked the picture of Dudley off the coffee table. “What’s this?”
“Another dead end,” I replied. “William had it in his pocket when he died. I thought the fingerprint on the back might belong to the killer, but it’s William’s.”
“How did you figure that out?”
“I asked the hospital for his records.
