The cobblestones of the city were slick with rain from the previous day's storms. Leaves and sticks had been blown across the streets. Still, the winter sun shone brightly and fought off the icy wind that had stayed behind. Not even the smoke could dull the sun's shine that morning, and Leah was glad to get out of the house for a little while.

She walked alongside Emma, pursuing the market stalls with a few coins in her pocket just in case she found something of interest. Officers walked the streets, hands held behind their backs, as they looked for any strange signs. It didn't appear the killer had struck during the days of sleet.

People still moved around with an air of caution around them, looking over their shoulders for whoever might be lurking in the dark. They passed several factory owners on their walks to work. Some travelled with a companion, others made a point to stick to the open areas of the streets rather than take the faster alleyways.

Fear still had its tight grip on the city.

"Is there anything in particular that you are looking for?" Emma asked as the two of them stopped in front of the market stall.

"Not really. I just needed to get away from the house for a few hours. If I stayed any longer, I would have said something I regretted."

"Forgive me if this is out of turn, Miss." Emma stopped and looked at her. "But is now really the best time to be falling out with your father?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that with everything that is going on, is it wise to be in an argument with him? This killer could strike anyone, and I don't think you want your last exchange with your father to be one filled with negativity."

Leah looked at Emma and chewed on the inside of her cheek. No matter how angry she might have been at her father for his reckless behaviour the previous evening, Emma had a point. This killer had proven that anything could happen to anyone at any time and Leah didn't want to lose her father if they were fighting with one another.

She may not have thought him to be a potential victim, but he could have been a case of mistaken identity. The last thing she wanted to do was have her last word towards her father be one full of venom and hatred. Even if she didn't like it and still thought her father's behaviour to be reckless, she couldn't let them stay in a fight for much longer.

When she returned home, Leah would have to swallow her pride and apologise.

"I suppose you're right." Leah sighed. "Perhaps I should bring something back with me as a peace offering. I did leave the house without permission."

"How about the bakery? We can collect some cream buns and then return to the house."

"Good idea."

The two of them stepped away from the market stalls and headed towards the bakery. If there was one way to soften up her father for an apology, it would be with a cream bun. Leah still had a few choice words that she wished to share with him, but she thought it best to hold her tongue.

All thoughts of her father were forgotten the moment she stepped into the bakery. The sweet smell of bread and cakes hit her immediately, replacing the stench of the Thames and smoke that always lingered in the air. Given the opportunity, she would have spent all her time in the bakery. Not just for the smell, but for the memories that came with it.

Leah remembered being seven years old, the first time her mother experienced one of her headaches, and wandering the streets with her father as a means to get out of the house. They had visited the bakery as one of their last stops and walked home eating cream buns. Both of them had a shower of confectioner's sugar down their front. He had helped to brush the sugar from the front of her dress and struck a deal to never tell Mrs Manston of the cream buns.

It was a tradition they had upheld for years and Leah hoped that the delivery of the buns might go some way towards an apology. Even if she didn't think she had anything to apologise for, and still believed her father deserved a good talking to for what he did, she would do it anyway.

Once they had the buns in hand, including one for Emma and one for Mrs Manston, they started back towards the house. Leah decided it would be best for them to take the alleyways back, places that were far safer during the day than they were at night.

Even though the sun still shone brightly, darkness lingered in the alleys. It clung to the walls, stuck itself to every surface available. It was impenetrable. A sense of foreboding washed over her as they started down another of London's many hidden alleyways.

Leah paused.

"Emma, go and find an officer."

"Miss?"

"Just do it!" Leah wiped around at Emma and glared at her.

Emma slipped back up the alleyway and disappeared from view without another word. Leah turned back to the alleyway. She took a few small steps forward.

At her feet, a man lay face-down. Any blood that might have been there had long since been washed away in the sleet and rain that had thundered down on the streets all night. Leah crouched down and bent closer to the man, noting the dent in his skull and the wound that covered his scalp.

Ezra had been wrong. The killer had struck when no one had expected him, killed during a storm that had brought the rest of the city to its knees.

Leah looked at the man, wondering what might have been going through his head before he died. Was he scared? Did he even know what was going to happen to him? How quick was his death?

Footsteps echoed over the cobblestones behind her and Leah stood up, brushed her skirt off, and took several steps backwards as though she had never been so close to the body.

She didn't want people to talk.

~~~

First Published - February 9th, 2023