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By Root 877 0

mementoes, and knickknacks-her bedroom, a bathroom, a larder, and the kitchen, which was the worthy old soul's pride and joy. It was fitted with every convenience a cook could possibly desire, and a great deal more besides, for the late Mr. Thomas Franklin Angell had been an ardent Technologist and a brilliant amateur inventor. A great many of her kitchen and household utensils and tools were entirely unique, having been designed and constructed by her late husband but never patented. The widow had told Burton that the attic was also filled with "Tom's fancies," though the explorer had never been up there to find out exactly what she meant.

At the end of the basement hallway, opposite the bottom of the staircase, a door opened onto steps leading up to an empty high-walled yard at the back of which lay what used to be a stable but was now an empty garage.

On the ground floor, there was a reception room and a seldom-used dining chamber.

The first floor was dominated by Burton's study, the costume and disguise room, a small water closet, and an empty chamber that the explorer was thinking of converting into a laboratory or photographic darkroom.

Up the stairs, the second floor held his bedroom, a dressing room, and a spare bedchamber for guests; while on the topmost floor, there was the library-which contained his huge collection of books and manuscriptsand a storage room.

When Burton entered his study he found five suitcases lined up beside the door and the maid, Elsie Carpenter, dusting the mantelpiece.

"Run along, Miss Elsie, there's a good girl."

"Yes, sir," she said, bobbing her head, and left the room. She was fifteen years old and visited the house each day, from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon, to do Mrs. Angell's bidding.

Burton found a note on his main desk and read it:

Tuesday 17th September 1861

Dearest Dick

I had a horrible time at the Fullers'. They were most unwelcoming and entirely unforthcoming concerning John's whereabouts, telling me only that he had been transported to London. I feel they went out of their way to conceal the truth from me. Perhaps if I apply to Sir Roderick Murchison he will intercede on our behalf? I understand that he is leaving Bath for London this afternoon (17th).

I have returned your luggage and am now setting out for home. I sent a parakeet to mother asking whether, in view of the circumstances, she and father would be prepared to receive you. She replied that they are not. Do not worry, my love, their disapproval will subside once we are married.

I shall call on you on Thursday afternoon.

I cannot bear these times apart.

Your loving,

Isabel

Burton dropped the note back onto the desk, sat down, and wrote a letter to Lord Palmerston. He felt sure that on his recommendation the prime minister would summon Sir Richard Mayne, the chief commissioner, and order him to put Detective Inspector Trounce in charge of the Spring Heeled Jack case. He sealed the letter in an envelope and wrote upon it "Urgent. Attn. Lord Palmerston" and signed it with his new code name-Abdullah-to ensure that it would be delivered straight to the prime minister's hand.

He went downstairs, took a whistle from the hall table, opened the front door, and gave it three quick blasts. Moments later, a runner leaped over the gate and landed on the doorstep, its tail wagging. Burton pulled a biscuit tin from under the hall table, opened its lid, and withdrew a chunk of ham. Mrs. Angell always ensured that something tasty was in that tin. He placed the meat on the doorstep and the greyhound eagerly wolfed it down. After it had finished, it licked its lips, looked at the letter Burton held out, and took it between its teeth.

He bent over the dog's ear and said, "10 Downing Street, Whitehall."

The runner turned and bounded back over the gate, vanishing into the fog.

Burton returned to his study and paced over to the fireplace. The maid had evidently lit the fire earlier, for it was burning, though in a desultory manner. He poked the life back into it, used it to light a cigar, and sank into