Chapter 70

We dried off and dressed, and he stared off into space.

We went out to dine at a local eatery, and finally Tommy broke his silence, although it was still not to talk about the man he had once loved.

A few years before, when restoration work began on Thorny Walk House, a number of the workers had been killed in various gruesome ways, and no one could explain how. Lady Genie had written about how the deaths had started up again.

Tommy began to explore a theory regarding those deaths.

“Might be a madman,” he ventured. “Remember that bloke, Jack the Ripper?”

I stared at him blankly.

“Killed all those unfortunate women in London’s East End in the late eighties.”

I gave him an exasperated look. “Methodists never follow such lurid occurrences. And in case it escaped your notice—that was yearsbefore I was born.”

Tommy frowned at me. “It was before Iwas born also.”

I widened my eyes, giving him my most innocent look. “Truly?”