The Name of the Star - Maureen Johnson [113]
He palmed the two diamonds and closed his fist around them.
“. . . was the one I carried. Quite powerful. That’s why I preferred her. Plus, it’s a lovely name—Persephone. The goddess of the Underworld. Dragged down to hell, then dragged right up again.”
Newman shook the two diamonds in his fist like they were dice, and then he drew his arm back and threw them. They vanished in midair before dropping into the river below.
“Two gone,” he said. “One to go. Come along, Aurora.”
He turned back and walked exactly the way we had just come, back down King William Street. East London is old and confusing, full of tiny streets and bends and turns, but his stride was purposeful and sure and quick. We walked right through the center of the London financial district, past the disappointed remains of Ripper parties, all waiting for that one last body. We wove through crowds of people, one living person and one dead person. In the dark, no one noticed the knife making its way along the city streets, held by no one. Or if they did, they would put it down to a trick of the eye, or a reflection, or too much beer.
I almost had to run to keep up with Newman, and my thoughts were going even faster. Callum would try to follow us, but he would have to get out first, and he would make sure to get Stephen to safety. So he was way behind me. Boo would be awake and on alert, and Jo was still on the lookout somewhere in the building. But Boo was also in a wheelchair. I was taking the Ripper into my home, and the only person who could fight him off was helpless.
But I was still going, still following, because there was no other way.
Wexford was still somewhat awake. The lights were on in some of the windows. The line of police had thinned out. Now there was one car and no actual officers were in sight, but there were a lot of people passing through the square as the vigil ended.
“Where is it?” Newman asked as we reached the green.
“In my building.”
“Where?”
“Someone has it. I can go in and get it and bring it out to you.”
“Oh, I think we’ll go in together.”
I tapped my card against the reader by the door, and it beeped. I heard the click as the door opened. Only two people were left in the common room. Charlotte was one of them, asleep in the chair closest to the door. The other was Boo.
“Hello, Rory,” Charlotte said, waking up with a yawn. “Still awake?”
Boo naturally fixed her sights on Newman.
“It’s her,” Newman said. “From the night we took a walk. She’s one of them?”
In a second, Boo had her terminus out and up, pointed in his direction. Newman flicked the knife so she could see it and held it at the right side of my neck, the point digging a small hole into the flesh.
“The others are alive for now,” he said. “Ask Aurora. I’ve kept my word. In exchange, I will have that terminus. You’ll drop that to the floor or she will be the first to go. Then I’ll do this one in the chair, and then I’ll do you.”
“You feeling all right?” Charlotte asked Boo.
Boo held up the phone and kept her fingers over the one and the nine, but she didn’t press.
The pressure on my neck increased, and I felt a trickle of blood run down the side.
“You’re in a wheelchair,” Newman said. “You have no options.”
Boo hesitated for another moment, then released it to the floor.
“You dropped your phone,” Charlotte said. “Really, are you all right?”
“Shut up, Charlotte,” Boo said, not taking her eyes off of me or Newman.
Charlotte turned around in her seat to see what was going on. She could make no sense of it, me standing so stiffly, Boo throwing her phone around. She got up and reached for the phone, which caused Newman to lurch forward. He grabbed a lamp from the side table and smacked it against Charlotte’s head as she bent over. She made a little cry of surprise, and then he hit her again, and again, until she fell to the floor and was still. He gingerly