The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity (20 page)

Uncle Percy knew at once he had to tell Becky the truth. His
expression hardened.
‘
George Chapman or Severin Klosowski, to give him his real name, was
a convicted murderer and, as far as I was aware, was put to death at Wandsworth
Prison in 1903 for the poisoning of three women. However, although that is in
itself a monstrous crime, it doesn
’
t stop there. When Chapman was arrested, a prominent Scotland Yard
detective, Frederick Aberline, was convinced they had finally caught the man
guilty of a series of other murders … murders that occurred in the Whitechapel
district of London in 1888 … murders that have since gained a certain amount of
notoriety across the world.
’
He took a moment to study Becky
’
s reaction.
‘
And judging by the look on your face, you know
precisely who I
’
m talking about?
’

Becky couldn
’
t respond. The moment Uncle Percy had mentioned Whitechapel she had
felt sick to her stomach.
‘
You
’
re talking about Jack the Ripper, aren
’
t you? You
’
re saying that George Chapman is Jack the
Ripper!
’

Uncle Percy paused.
‘
It
’
s a distinct possibility …
’

Chapter 19

Peggy
’
s Secret

‘
Jack the Ripper?
’
Joe blustered, ten
minutes later.
‘
Jack the bloody Ripper! You
’
ve gotta be kidding me.
’

Becky sighed gloomily.
‘
I wish I was.
’
Her fingers traced their way to her neck.
‘
I can
’
t believe he was
holding a scalpel to my throat.
’
She shuddered.
‘
I
’
m gonna throw up.
’

Joe flopped onto his bed, his head in his hands.
‘
And Uncle Percy
’
s a hundred per cent
sure?
’

‘
He said it
’
s a
distinct
possibility
but we both know what that means.
’

‘
Yeah, it means he
’
s Jack the bloody
Ripper…
’

Becky nodded.
‘
And he
’
s asked us to not research the details of the Ripper case. In fact,
he made me promise we wouldn
’
t.
’

Joe looked up.
‘
We don
’
t really need to. The clue is sort of in the name. That along with
the fact that he
’
s the most famous serial killer of all time.
’

For the next few minutes, Becky and Joe said nothing.

‘
Maybe we shouldn
’
t worry about Chapman
anyway,
’
Becky said finally.

‘
Why not?
’

‘
Well, a baddie
’
s a baddie. What
’
s the difference
between him and any one of the thousand baddies Drake could
’
ve plucked from
history?
’

‘
He
’
s Jack the Ripper,
Becks,
’
Joe said flatly.
‘
He
’
s number one in the historical nutter stakes. I mean, if it was just
Colin the Crabby then it wouldn
’
t be so bad, but
–’

Becky giggled.
‘
Colin the Crabby? With that daft moustache it should be Reginald
Ratface.
’

Joe found himself smiling, too.
‘
Or Stoat Nosed Stan?
’

‘
Or Vince Volemouth?
’

‘
Or Bertie Badgerchin.
’

Soon, they were rolling around in fits of laughter. Finally,
struggling to catch her breath, Becky changed the subject.
‘
We should work on this
poem.
’

‘
Okay.
’
Joe
’
s face turned serious.
‘
Where do
we start?
’

‘
What about this name:
Peggy. We can scour the net for something. Maybe we
’
ll get lucky.
’

‘
There
’
s nowt there,
’
Joe replied.
‘
I checked my laptop
before. There
’
s nothing online about a connection between someone called Peggy and
Blackbeard or Israel Hands.
’

Becky frowned.
‘
I suppose it was a long shot.
’
Then something else occurred to her.
‘
And Peggy might not be
a woman at all…
’

‘
What else could it be?
’

Becky moved over to the window and looked outside. High above the
distant forest, she saw Will
’
s golden eagle, Marian, circling the trees, her eyes searching out
her next meal.
‘
I dunno. A ship, maybe?
’

Joe thought hard for a moment.
‘
It had to be something obvious enough for
Edward Mallory to find.
’

Becky began to pace the room.
‘
Ask yourself this, if you had a treasure map
where would you hide it?
’

Joe
’
s brow furrowed.
‘
Well, I wouldn
’
t give it to someone else, that
’
s for sure. No, I
’
d keep it somewhere close, somewhere personal. But
this is different … Israel Hands wanted it found. He wanted Mallory to find it
based on the information in that poem, so it has to be pretty simple to work
out, I reckon.
’

But they didn
’
t find it simple. They didn
’
t find it simple at all. The late afternoon sun
gave way to an early dusk and a spray of stars dappled the murky sky.
 
At five o
’
clock, Becky returned to her room feeling
despondent and downcast. She had desperately wanted to solve the poem, to
unlock its secrets, but they weren
’
t getting anywhere. She showered, threw on leggings and had just put
on a sweatshirt when she recalled a sequence from the optomediaphibic folio.
And then it hit her like a thunderbolt.

Faithful Peggy.

Heart pounding, she dashed from her bedroom. Moments later, she was
slamming her fist against Joe
’
s door. It opened with a creak.
‘
I
’
ve figured it out. I know what Peggy is.
’

‘
What?
’

‘
Not telling you.
’
And with that, Becky
hurtled off down the corridor, leaving Joe to growl to no one. She flew down the
stairs into the Entrance Hall and saw the morning room door ajar. Rushing over,
she pushed it open and saw Uncle Percy sat at his window seat, an open book
resting on his lap. At seeing Becky
’
s cherry-red face, a look of concern crossed his face.
‘
Is everything all
right, Becky?
’
he asked, as Joe appeared at her shoulder.

‘
Yes,
’
Becky panted.
‘
I
’
ve done it. I
’
ve cracked the poem.
Well, the first bit anyway. I know where the map is.
’

Uncle Percy looked bemused.
‘
Really?
’

‘
I think so. I mean, I
might be wrong, but it does make sense.
’

‘
Go on then,
’
Joe pressed.
‘
Tell us.
’

Becky inhaled deeply.
‘
It
’
s in his leg.
’

Joe looked at her as though she had gone mad.
‘
What are you talking
about?
’

Becky ignored him.
‘
In that note on the back of the painting it said something weird,
something about looking inside him. And that optomediaphibic folio said he lost
a leg in a raid or something.
’

A smile arched on Uncle Percy
’
s face.
‘
Ah, of course. Very good, Becky. Very good,
indeed.
’

‘
What
’
s very good?
’
Joe asked, baffled.

Becky shot him a superior look.
‘
Faithful Peggy is his peg-leg!
’

Uncle Percy clapped heartily.
‘
Well-done, young lady. Bravo.
’

‘
All we
’
ve got to find out is
where Israel Hands died,
’
Becky said.
‘
And then go and get his leg.
’

‘
And I happen to know precisely
where that was,
’
Uncle Percy replied.

‘
Where?
’
Becky asked.
‘
How?
’

‘
Barbie mentioned it
after you
’
d
both left the library. He died and was buried on Devil
’
s Spear Island. It
’
s a small island not
far from New Providence, the capital of which is Nassau.
’

‘
Which is where we
’
re we
’
ll find Stinky Mo,
’
Joe said.

Uncle Percy nodded heartily.
‘
Indeed.
’

‘
So when are we going?
’
Joe asked.
‘
Tonight?
’

Uncle Percy chuckled.
‘
Well, I
’
d like to do some more research.
’

‘
Ah, what
’
s the point?
’
Joe said.
‘
We know what we
’
ve got to do. We know
where we
’
ve
got to do it. Let
’
s just go and get it done.
’

‘
You know it
’
s not that simple,
Joe,
’
Uncle Percy replied.
‘
We may be gone for some time. We need provisions and clothes and
Gerathnium and I need to make you a Joe-Bow and -
’

Joe looked as though all his Christmases had come at once.
‘
I get a Joe-bow?
’

Uncle Percy gave a joyless smile.
‘
I think we know by now we
’
re dealing with some
very nasty people. And although I hate to admit it, I am putting you in harm
’
s way. It seems only
fair that you
’
re armed.
’
He looked proudly at Joe.
‘
And from what William tells me, you
’
ve become quite the
archer. I hope I can trust you to use it responsibly.
’

‘
You can,
’
Joe replied
sincerely.
‘
I promise.
’

Uncle Percy smiled back at him.
‘
I know.
’

Becky looked at Uncle Percy.
‘
And what weapon do I get?
’

‘
What do you believe
you can handle?
’

As Becky took a moment to consider this, George Chapman
’
s sinister face crept
into her head and provided an answer.

‘
How about Bruce
’
s bazooka?
’