Fearless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 1): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series by Nicola Claire Page B

Blackmore’s footsteps could be heard over my shoulder, approaching at a rapid speed. Kelly remained close to my side; a comforting shadow in the approaching darkness. My feet took me deeper into the alleyway. Deeper into a world I had always known existed, but had never visited alone until recently.
    My world.
    One look at the body and I knew.
    Death stalked here.

Seven
    Let’s Try To Keep It That Way
    Anna
    Sounds came at me as if from some distance. The raised voices of Inspector Kelly and Sergeant Blackmore. The clang of metal on wood on one of the wharves. The rattle of an anchor chain. The shrill cry of a sea bird. The clap of distant thunder.
    “It rains south of here,” Kelly remarked. “Quickly now, Miss Cassidy. Is the murderer likely to still be nearby?”
    The sole reason for him allowing me ingress.
    I didn’t waste time contemplating the rationale for my being granted access to this crime scene. I approached the fallen form with as much haste as my father’s training would allow. The alley was little more than a shoulder width wide. No crates were stacked here, but the grime of an ill-used back passage smeared itself upon every surface at hand.
    The head of the victim was farther away than their shoes. Their clothing dark and dirt stained. At first glance, I was sure this was a dock worker, or perhaps a homeless person having met the nefarious side of the opium market firsthand. But as I crouched down by the boots of the victim, it became swiftly obvious that the body was female.
    That didn’t necessarily rule out the opium den. Of all people, I was acutely aware of this fact. But a dock worker the woman was not. A lightskirt perhaps?
    I pulled my soiled glove off and wrapped a hand around her ankle. Warmth still seeped through the thin material of her stocking, but not much. The chill of the dead had invaded.
    I tested the body’s temperature higher up the leg, having to lean out at an awkward angle over the victim to gain access. I could reach only her knee, just above it. The temperature was barely warmer there. I needed to feel the chest.
    Blood seeped between my bare fingers. Not pulsing with a heartbeat; the mere pressure of my grip had been enough. That and the fact that her thigh had been sliced deeply.
    “We will need to move her,” I said, standing back up and pulling a cloth, to wipe my hand, from my pocket. “But it is possible she has been dead less than half an hour.”
    “He is close at hand, then,” Kelly surmised. “Can you ascertain cause of death?”
    Blackmore appeared with a lantern. I hadn’t even realised he’d disappeared; Kelly the only man at my back while I’d performed my preliminary assessment.
    I took the offered lamp and held it aloft. My head tilted to the side, nose wrinkled, eyes straining, searching for something I couldn’t see nor understand. The victim’s body was covered in slashes, and tears rent her clothing apart. My first thought was a frenzied attack, not unlike Margaret’s. Both Kelly and Blackmore remained silent, witnessing the same similarities as myself.
    How many stab wounds on this one? And which was the killing blow?
    I moved closer still, my feet between the woman’s. Ordinarily I’d take greater care not to stand in any of the evidence, but something disturbing had caught my eye.
    A gaping wound in the stomach.
    I stilled, sucking in air through my mouth as the smell I had registered earlier, and not been able to place, made sense.
    “She has been eviscerated,” I announced, my words hollow. I lifted the lantern higher, angling the light towards the narrowed walls. “But there is no sign of blood on the buildings.” I glanced down, shifting to move her dress skirt slightly, shining illumination on the dirt covered floor. “None on the ground.”
    “What killed her?” Kelly pressed, ignoring my findings and seeking the possibility of a weapon.
    I stepped backwards, more unsettled than I’d like to have admitted. My heart beating