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Chapter 5
After Agatha had helped dismantle the box camera time machine, Harriet placed it carefully in her large carpet bag. With the time machine safely secured, the two ladies then put on their coats and stepped out into the damp night air of Victorian London.
They both stood outside the front door of 24 Harrington Square watching the thick London smog swirl around the gas-lit street lamps.
“We don’t stand much chance getting a hansom cab this late in the evening so it looks like we’ll have to walk.” Harriet announced.
Although the smog was considered a health hazard by many, tonight it was going to be their friend, giving them cover as they walked London’s deserted streets. The City of London police had still not captured the serial killer who went by the name of Jack the Ripper, and it was still considered too risky for any woman to be out on their own late at night.
The sound of their metal-tipped boots on rough cobblestones echoed through the quiet London streets, alerting any would-be attacker to the women’s presence.
Periodically, the two of them would see tall shadows appear ahead of them in the smog. Both women would then stop walking and dive into a dark doorway until they considered the threat had passed.
Eventually, Agatha could make out through the smog the neo-classical shape of the British Museum, they had made it with half-an-hour to spare before their vortex deadline.
The two women looked about them, checking there were no Peelers in sight. Certain the coast was clear, the two of them ran from their cover, up to the iron gates that led into the museum grounds.
...
They both stood outside the front door of 24 Harrington Square watching the thick London smog swirl around the gas-lit street lamps.
“We don’t stand much chance getting a hansom cab this late in the evening so it looks like we’ll have to walk.” Harriet announced.
Although the smog was considered a health hazard by many, tonight it was going to be their friend, giving them cover as they walked London’s deserted streets. The City of London police had still not captured the serial killer who went by the name of Jack the Ripper, and it was still considered too risky for any woman to be out on their own late at night.
The sound of their metal-tipped boots on rough cobblestones echoed through the quiet London streets, alerting any would-be attacker to the women’s presence.
Periodically, the two of them would see tall shadows appear ahead of them in the smog. Both women would then stop walking and dive into a dark doorway until they considered the threat had passed.
Eventually, Agatha could make out through the smog the neo-classical shape of the British Museum, they had made it with half-an-hour to spare before their vortex deadline.
The two women looked about them, checking there were no Peelers in sight. Certain the coast was clear, the two of them ran from their cover, up to the iron gates that led into the museum grounds.
...
