Kronberg Crimes 01 - The Devils Grin

light talk had helped me to breathe again. ‘Did it make you think of the Ripper?’ I asked him.
    ‘Yes. I was wondering for a while about your strong interest in the murders, and why you formed your own, and very conceivable, I must say, theory. I assumed your interest was personal. And then I saw the scar tonight.’
    ‘Good deduction,’ I croaked, and gazed up into the tree. After a long moment I started recounting the most terrible night of my life.
    ‘I had defended my thesis and after we had celebrated I walked home alone late at night. Three of my fellow students begrudged me the success. They had always had an eye on me and followed me through the streets that night. They cornered me in a dark alley and said that I needn’t be afraid; all they wanted was to check the size of my dick, which must be microscopic because I was such a wonk. Soon they noticed the non-existence of that organ. At first they were shocked, but then realised their luck — I would never tell on them. And they were right — why should I betray my own secret?’ I took a deep breath.
    ‘They raped me in turns. One of them wasn’t able to penetrate me, so he used a knife to leave his mark. Not to kill, just to replace one power he did not have with one he had. He wished to give me a souvenir that would always remind me of him and that one night. As if I needed that. How would anyone forget such a thing?’ I swallowed. ‘I will never bear children.’
    Holmes had turned stiff during my narrative and I saw his knuckles turn white as his fingers dug into his knees.
    ‘It is in the past; they don’t haunt me any more.’
    Confounded, he stared at me.
    ‘It is my life; I cannot live it when I’m full of hate,’ I explained.
    ‘But you leave them free to rape again?’ There was accusation in his voice, but it did not offend me. I felt strangely balanced.
    ‘No. They know I come after them should they cross the line.’
    ‘You live in London,’ he noted.
    ‘But I have friends. They will let me know when it’s time to pay a visit.’
    He looked doubtful.
    ‘You have never seen me angry,’ I hinted.
    ‘Have I not?’
    ‘No, you have not. Two weeks after the… incident, I sawed the barrel off my father’s shotgun, fit it under my coat and visited them. The man who used the knife gave me the most trouble; I had to shoot him in his right foot to leave any impression at all. He is still limping. The other two immediately believed me, as I said I would shoot off their testicles if I ever heard they touched a woman without her consent.’
    Holmes raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Are you shocked?’ I asked quietly.
    ‘No.’
    His answer had come too fast to be believable and he must have noticed that, too. He examined the night sky for a while and then muttered, ‘It is complicated.’
    I waited a long time, but he did not elaborate further on the matter. Strangely, my upset heart wouldn’t calm itself. It galloped like a foal. I grew aware of the man next to me and noticed the complete lack of distance, both physical and emotional.
    ‘I’m shocked, too,’ I whispered, rose to my feet and packed my rucksack, left the blanket where it lay, and went back to the lake.

Chapter Ten

    Two days ago, on September 10th, an unidentified female torso was found under a railway arch in Pinchin Street. No other body parts were found in the vicinity. The papers were full of it and all of London suspected Jack the Ripper, only Holmes did not. Again, bobbies were swarming Whitechapel and every other slum in London, making it exceedingly difficult for me to change from Anna into Anton and back again.
    During the last weeks, Holmes had spent considerable time disguised as a pauper, but now focused his energies on the torso case. Our two dead men were still unidentified. But I had other things demanding my attention as well.
    The government had awarded me with a substantial grant for the isolation of tetanus germs. A visit at Robert Koch’s laboratory in Berlin was included in the funding. In two weeks’ time I would leave London for the whole of three months. The prospect of seeing my father made me feel rather fluttery in my chest.
    Despite the exciting news, my stomach wouldn’t stop aching — I was certain the word had spread and the men behind the Broadmoor experiments had their eyes on me already.

    ~~~

    I was at home when an urgent knock interrupted my kitchen scrubbing.
    ‘Yes?’ I called and the door creaked open. Barry stood in