Mrs. Hawking Part VI:
Fallen Women
by Phoebe Roberts and Bernie Gabin
~~~
Dramatis Personae
London, England, 1888
MRS. VICTORIA HAWKING, lady’s society avenger, late forties
MISS MARY STONE, her housemaid and assistant, late twenties
MR. NATHANIEL HAWKING, her gentleman nephew, early thirties
SGT. ARTHUR SWANN, Mary’s policeman beau, late twenties
MRS. CLARA HAWKING, Nathaniel’s society wife, mid thirties
MRS. ELIZABETH FROST, a criminal mastermind, now institutionalized, early fifties
MISS MARY JANE KELLY, a London prostitute, late twenties
MISS VIOLET STRALLAN, a London nurse, late twenties
MR. ROLAND DAVIES, once Mrs. Frost’s man, late twenties
A DISTINGUISHED MATRON, in widow’s weeds, late sixties
THE RIPPER, the Whitechapel murderer, late thirties
MISS MALAIKA SHAH, a specter of the past
Townspeople, ruffians, orderlies, non-speaking ensemble
~~~
Scene 1.1
(MARY and ARTHUR meet on the street.)
ARTHUR:
Fancy meeting you here.
MARY:
Have a look at that. Is that your harbor master’s missing manifest? Lonnigan stashed it in the tack house, under a harness the mold had gotten at.
ARTHUR:
I knew you would find it!
MARY:
And how have you done on my tip off?
ARTHUR:
Already picked the bloke up— once we showed him the murder weapon, he sang like a canary.
MARY:
Well done! Thanks for taking a moment to haul him in; I know you’re mostly undercover these days.
ARTHUR:
It’s no bother to make a collar. And honestly, I’m expecting to be called back to the beat any day now. It’s been all hands on deck, with what’s gone on in Whitechapel.
MARY:
The murders. With the women sliced to bits.
ARTHUR:
With the last two both cut down in one night, it’s reaching a panic. I’ve heard from other coppers even the Home Office has stuck its oar in. And folks have got a name for him now, the one from that barking letter sent to the newspaper.
MARY:
I’ve heard it. Jack the Ripper.
ARTHUR:
I was surprised you never said nothing about it. I know I’m not supposed to pry too much, but… I thought this one would be right up your mistress’s alley.
MARY:
She’s climbing the walls over it, but she can’t investigate. Scotland Yard’s all through it, and they’re still on guard against her. Even now, when they see her costume, they charge her on sight.
ARTHUR:
Well. She has blacked out quite a few teeth at this point.
MARY:
If the police handle it, so much the better. But I don’t know how much longer any of us can stand by, when women’s lives are at stake.
ARTHUR:
Of course. So… this is it for you, then, isn’t it? This work with Mrs. Hawking. Solving crimes and righting wrongs and all. This is what you’re meant for.
MARY:
I think it is. She means for me to take over for her someday. It’s not always been easy… but it means the world to me.
ARTHUR:
That’s what I thought you’d say. It’s why I never made an ass of myself presuming any different. But I wanted to be sure, just in case.
MARY:
Why?
ARTHUR:
Well… you know I’ve been working undercover a few years now. Must be doing well enough, because I got an offer for a new job.
MARY:
A promotion?
ARTHUR:
You could call it that. Except it’s not with the Yard, it’s the Foreign Office. They’ve been looking for lads with intelligence service, and I suppose in the last few years I caught their eye.
MARY:
Oh, Arthur. Congratulations!
ARTHUR:
Thank you. It’s only… the post’s abroad. In New York. In America.
(Pause.)
ARTHUR:
It’s a good post. And I’d get to see something of the world. I wanted to tell you, but… I don’t think I can take it.
MARY:
Why ever not?
ARTHUR:
Because I know you can’t leave. And I want to ask you marry me.
(Pause.)
ARTHUR:
Been thinking it for some time now. Sometimes I feel like a cad for going so long without making any promises. You and me, Mary, we’ve had such fun as we are, dashing about after ruffians, picking mysteries apart. But the fact is, yours isn’t a life that speaks to being somebody’s missus at home. I know how important your work is— to you, and all the people you do it for. Damned if I’m going to take you away from it. But… God knows you know your own mind. And I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t ask. Because I love you, Mary, as truly as ever a man loved a woman. And if you’d have me, there’s nowhere else I’d like to be. Whatever that might mean— lead, and I’ll follow.
(Pause.)
ARTHUR:
Hang it all. This wasn’t how I meant to do it. I was going to have a ring, and… and get down on one knee, and all that rot.
(He goes to kneel, but MARY pulls him back up.)
MARY:
Oh, stand up, you silly git! Whatever would I do with a ring, use it to pop a ruffian?
ARTHUR:
So… you don’t mind?
MARY:
Arthur… you don’t know what it means to me. We’ve made quite a team, haven’t we? Through every twist and turn, you’ve been everything I needed. You’re right about my work, of course. I’m meant for it, and I can’t see my life without it. I don’t know how being a wife would fit in, but… now I can’t see my life without you either.
ARTHUR:
As long as you’ll have me, I won’t put you in a place where you must choose. We can continue on as we are, if that’s all there can be.
MARY:
I want to be with you, Arthur. It’s only… I don’t know how yet.
ARTHUR:
Nor I. I only had to tell you. Or else I might burst.
MARY:
May I have some time?
ARTHUR:
Like I said. Lead, and I’ll follow.
(The Hawking house. MRS. HAWKING and NATHANIEL spar.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Again.
(He goes on the attack. She dodges and blocks.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Better. Vary your rhythm this time. And release your shoulders! I said, release your shoulders!
(She parries and pulls him close. He startles.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Your form’s improved. But you’re telegraphing your blows.
NATHANIEL:
I know.
MRS. HAWKING:
You’ve got to practice.
NATHANIEL:
I know! I have been.
MRS. HAWKING:
After what’s happened to you— when Frost caught you—
NATHANIEL:
I haven’t forgotten.
MRS. HAWKING:
I can’t allow you to be that vulnerable. Not again. If you’re going afield at all on cases, then you must be able to defend yourself.
NATHANIEL:
And what if I can’t? What use am I?
MRS. HAWKING:
I beg your pardon?
NATHANIEL:
Nothing— just, if only I were clever enough that I could puzzle everything out from an armchair with a pound of shag tobacco.
MRS. HAWKING:
For heaven’s sake, are you still on about that bloody book?
NATHANIEL:
I thought it was cracking. And quite funny, considering what we do.
MRS. HAWKING:
Fantastical rubbish. No one knows enough to read everything all the time.
NATHANIEL:
Still, I quite enjoyed it. Perhaps Mary and I should chronicle your cases for posterity.
MRS. HAWKING:
You wouldn’t dare. Or perhaps you would, what would I know of it?
NATHANIEL:
Oh, please don’t say that.
MRS. HAWKING:
Then don’t change the subject. Some day you will be in danger again. And there won’t always be someone there to pull you out of it. Do you want to spend another week tied to a chair in some villain’s cellar?
NATHANIEL:
No. It’s only… I’m struggling.
MRS. HAWKING:
It’s a struggle for anyone. But I need to know you’re safe.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
(Deep breath) I can shoot. A little.
(MRS. HAWKING considers, then finds a gun for him.)
NATHANIEL:
What, now? In the house?
MRS. HAWKING:
Go on. Sight along the barrel, with both eyes open. Squeeze, don’t pull, and breathe out as you do.
(NATHANIEL takes a shot.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Not bad. You have the stance of a dueler.
NATHANIEL:
I got the basics in my year in the service. But that was a dozen years ago now, and I haven’t practiced much since.
MRS. HAWKING:
Then you’ll practice now.
NATHANIEL:
Only I’ve never seen you use one.
MRS. HAWKING:
I’ve never had the taste for guns. The smell, the noise. They are anathema to subtlety and stealth, and they smack of the male establishment— a blunt approach, rather than a surgical one.
(She takes the gun and lines up a shot.)
MRS. HAWKING:
But this isn’t a game, Nathaniel. There are no rules of fair play. And you cannot run these risks without protecting yourself.
(She fires. NATHANIEL peers out as if inspecting the target.)
NATHANIEL:
Bullseye.
MRS. HAWKING:
You do what you must. Remember what I said? It will not happen again.
(MARY enters.)
MARY:
Back, madam. Did I— hear shots?
NATHANIEL:
I was training. But now we can make report.
MARY:
What became of the extortionists that Frost had in Cheapside?
MRS. HAWKING:
Thanks to some well-placed letters, each of the ringleaders thinks the other has sold them up the river. I expect in turning their sights on each other, they’ll soon have sunk their whole operation.
NATHANIEL:
Which takes care of two more of Frost’s lieutenants. And you, Mary? Has the man you pegged for the Gardener murder been taken in?
MARY:
Just last night. I passed off the balisong knife and the bloodstained gloves to Arthur, and when the coppers came he cracked like an egg.
MRS. HAWKING:
You handed over all the evidence to the police?
MARY:
Yes, to confront the killer. Is there something else you’d have me do?
MRS. HAWKING:
No. It sounds as if you’ve got it well in hand.
NATHANIEL:
Well… that seems settled, then. We should have time to take on something new.
MRS. HAWKING:
Yes, more distractions from the only case that matters.
NATHANIEL:
Madam, we’ve been through this. There are too many police about it to involve yourself in the Ripper case.
MRS. HAWKING:
For all the good they’ve done! Two more women are dead in one night! How many more will there be while we stand by?
MARY:
And how do you mean to investigate? You can’t go out in your suit now that the coppers have come to recognize it.
NATHANIEL:
Frost’s works are not easily undone.
MRS. HAWKING:
So you’d have us do nothing.
MARY:
There are people without an army of policemen to help them. Charging after the Ripper in your hood won’t serve this time.
MRS. HAWKING:
Make no mistake, Miss Stone. If I have my way, my hood will be the last thing that monster ever sees. Now, if that’s all, you must excuse me. I have an appointment.
(MRS. HAWKING exits.)
NATHANIEL:
I am sorry.
MARY:
She doesn’t trust a word I say anymore. It’s my own fault; should have known better than to lie to her for so long.
NATHANIEL:
I did right with you. Only I suppose she decided after my drubbing, I’d already paid enough.
MARY:
Perhaps I ought to try it. Maybe then we’ll move past this.
NATHANIEL:
Unfortunately on the whole I can’t recommend it.
MARY:
How are you bearing up?
NATHANIEL:
Ah. It isn’t so bad. Sometimes my jaw still troubles me, when I talk too much. Which is all the time. Certainly wish I could put it out of my mind, though. I find myself remembering it still, at all the worst times.
MARY:
Oh, Nathaniel, I’m sorry.
NATHANIEL:
Time will heal it, I’m sure. Just as it will for you and Madam.
MARY:
I’m afraid I’m not so certain. You see… there’s something else. I saw Arthur today.
NATHANIEL:
Yes?
MARY:
We talked of our cases, his and mine. And he asked after my work, if I intended to do it always. And when I said yes, he said he expected so.
NATHANIEL:
Yes?
MARY:
And, well, he didn’t know how we’d manage it… but he… well, he…
NATHANIEL:
He asked you to marry him!
MARY:
How did you know?
NATHANIEL:
Because I’ve been after him for weeks! Let me tell you, if left to his own devices, he would have sprung it upon you in the middle of a street brawl or over a dead body! Tell me, where did he do it? Kensington Garden? The Abbey? And the ring— did he write to ask for his mother’s after all?
MARY:
Nathaniel! None of that. There wasn’t any ring.
NATHANIEL:
Tell me you’re joking. Has the lad lost his mind? When I proposed to Clara, I’d crossed the length of the country, had a new jacket made, and brought her in a carriage to a seaside picnic, and if I’d dared try without a ring, the only hand I’d have had of her was the back of it!
MARY:
I haven’t even answered him.
NATHANIEL:
Why ever not? Is it— is it because of the ring—?
MARY:
Of course not! It’s only… I don’t know how to do it. Be married, with the life that I lead.
NATHANIEL:
Oh, I see. But… that is what you want, isn’t it?
MARY:
I think it is.
NATHANIEL:
Oh, Mary. Then this is the very best news.
MARY:
I don’t think Mrs. Hawking will agree. But I’ve got to tell her; I can’t keep any more secrets from her. Not when that started all this strife.
NATHANIEL:
Oh, heavens. So much for the engagement party.
MARY:
It won’t make things any easier between us.
NATHANIEL:
Not at first, perhaps. But we can manage her, you’ll see. We’ll bring her round. Now, buck up, my girl. You’re to be married! Might as well enjoy it a moment, before Madam takes all the fun out of it.
MARY:
Goodness, I am. It’s all struck me of a sudden.
NATHANIEL:
And it’s about damned time, if you ask me! I do so love weddings—
you will let Clara and I plan things, won’t you?
MARY:
One thing at a time! I still must accept Arthur yet. And… you aren’t going to cry, are you?
NATHANIEL:
I make no promises!
(The asylum. MRS. HAWKING waits for MRS. FROST.)
MRS. FROST:
You’re late.
MRS. HAWKING:
I’m ten minutes early.
(MRS. HAWKING hands her newspapers and a cigarette case.)
MRS. FROST:
You were due on the third. You’re two whole days late.
MRS. HAWKING:
If I’m imposing, I could always stop my visits. But then I would imagine your days would grow quite dull, wouldn’t they? Besides, it couldn’t be helped. I’ve been out working— no thanks to you.
MRS. FROST:
Ha! Are the bobbies still hounding you after all this time? I’m not even paying them any more. But I suppose you deck one copper and you’re their enemy forever.
MRS. HAWKING:
More than one at this point.
MRS. FROST:
I’m sure! Especially with the hash they’re making of the Whitechapel murders. Looks like our fellow struck again, and twice this time!
MRS. HAWKING:
Lives I might have saved, if you hadn’t put them on my trail. With the police swarming over the matter, I can’t get near it.
MRS. FROST:
Indeed. I can only imagine how that must feel. Well, I wouldn’t worry. According to these, there are several good suspects well in hand.
MRS. HAWKING:
Sensationalist rubbish.
MRS. FROST:
How would you know? I thought you couldn’t get near enough.
MRS. HAWKING:
The inquests are public. I’ve paid for copies of the reports.
MRS. FROST:
And what have the rags gotten wrong?
MRS. HAWKING:
Besides the speculation on the usual collection of scapegoats— immigrants, madmen, Jews? Besides a half-dozen witness descriptions in wild conflict? Besides the complete disregard for facts of any kind?
MRS. FROST:
Oh, you mean to suggest those amusingly misspelled letters they print aren’t actually from the killer?
MRS. HAWKING:
All of them mailed since reports reached the news.
MRS. FROST:
A shame. I did so hope that “Dear Boss” had eaten someone’s kidney. And now there are two new victims, killed within hours of one other. I suppose he didn’t have time to collect his usual remembrance from the first one?
MRS. HAWKING:
He must have been interrupted, because he works like lightning. The rest of them were found before the bleeding had stopped— even after taking the time to open them up.
MRS. FROST:
Hm. I suppose he’s a military surgeon, then?
MRS. HAWKING:
What?
MRS. FROST:
He went straight for the organs, didn’t he? I’ve known enough educated men without the faintest idea of a woman’s anatomy. I doubt your average Whitechapel illiterate could locate a womb or a kidney on the first try.
MRS. HAWKING:
But the cuts are so coarse.
MRS. FROST:
Battlefield training. They’ve got the basics but not much is expected of them. And they’re accustomed to working fast. Or… hadn’t you already got that together?
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
What are you doing?
MRS. FROST:
Why, discussing a matter of interest with a dear old friend.
MRS. HAWKING:
Why?
MRS. FROST:
What bloody else have I got to do in here?
MRS. HAWKING:
I put you in here.
MRS. FROST:
Yes. You did. But I know you mean to find this man and stop him, by any means necessary. And you know I live for the game. What other chance have I got to play it?
MRS. HAWKING:
I should have nothing to do with you. After what you did to my nephew.
MRS. FROST:
And I should wish you dead. After what you did to me. Now, dear boss… what else have you got for me?
(Pause. MRS. HAWKING opens her portfolio.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Four women, murdered over the course of two months, by means of a sharp blade in the slums of Whitechapel. No stab wounds at all, only slashes. Most had organs removed in their entirety— kidneys, liver, once even the womb. Each one more more brutalized than the last.
MRS. FROST:
He’s intensifying. He was interrupted in his third attempt, and could not bear to go home without his souvenir. Where were the bodies found? Have you got a map to mark them?
(MRS. HAWKING produces one. They go over the inquests to mark the spots. MRS. FROST lights a cigarette.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Polly Nichols in Buck’s Row. Must you do that? It’s a small room.
MRS. FROST:
Yes. It is. And you’ve only yourself to blame. Annie Chapman on Hanbury Street.
MRS. HAWKING:
Hm. I suppose you’re not the first I’ve driven to vice.
MRS. FROST:
Oh, indeed. I imagine the Colonel was a chimney by the end.
MRS. HAWKING:
That was the least of it. Elizabeth Stride in Dutfield’s Yard.
MRS. FROST:
What was his poison? Drink?
MRS. HAWKING:
Most people didn’t see it. Nathaniel certainly didn’t. And Catherine Eddowes in Mitre Square.
MRS. FROST:
All within an hour’s walk or so, all in alleyways or yards or some other place reasonably secluded. He knows the lay the land. A local?
MRS. HAWKING:
Then where does he go?
MRS. FROST:
Perhaps he disappears into plain sight. Tell me, how fares Nathaniel these days? Our very own ghost of Christmas past.
(Pause. MRS. HAWKING glares.)
MRS. FROST:
Come now, a little conversation is a small price to pay.
MRS. HAWKING:
(Sighs) Braver and stronger than ever you knew. But if our man lives there, how does he disappear so completely? I’d say he has some other place to go once the investigation gets underway.
MRS. FROST:
Who comes to Whitechapel enough to know it, but doesn’t have to live there? What military surgeon does?
MRS. HAWKING:
A workhouse doctor. The standards are low; they wouldn’t need an accomplished medical man.
MRS. FROST:
Often volunteers from the superior classes who mean to do a charitable deed. Volunteers who needn’t live in the same pit as their patients.
MRS. HAWKING:
The houses on Charles Street and the South Grove are within a mile.
MRS. FROST:
It looks as if you’ve got a place to begin.
MRS. HAWKING:
Of course the area is crawling with police officers. Thanks to you, I won’t be able to investigate with my usual low profile.
MRS. FROST:
I thought you were good at this. Whatever did you do, before you could pass the hard work off to the boy and the girl? Go in plain clothes; they shan’t be on the alert for that. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll have to talk to someone?
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
In the meantime, I shall think on what I’ll ask in exchange for the next consultation.
MRS. HAWKING:
Who’s to say there shall be a next consultation?
MRS. FROST:
At any rate, we’ll call this one gratis— or nearly so. The next one, however… that will cost you.
(Whitechapel. MRS. HAWKING lurks among the denizens in plain clothes. MARY JANE KELLY enters, followed by a RUFFIAN who is harassing her. The other people move away, but MRS. HAWKING goes on guard.)
MARY JANE:
Have off, then! I don’t want no trouble, I just want to know about the Ripper!
(MRS. HAWKING steps in and knocks the man down. He comes at her with a knife, but she disarms him and chases him off.)
MARY JANE:
Cor blimey! How did you—?
MRS. HAWKING:
No matter. It’s not safe chasing into this, girl.
MARY JANE:
It’s not safe anyhow! Ain’t like there’s anywhere to hide.
MRS. HAWKING:
So what do you think you’re doing? What’s your interest in the Ripper?
MARY JANE:
I’m trying to find him.
MRS. HAWKING:
Find him? Why?
MARY JANE:
Because he’s killing us! The coppers have done nothing. We can’t wait any longer.
MRS. HAWKING:
You’ve no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. Stay off the streets, and you’ll live through this.
MARY JANE:
And go where? Women are dying! Somebody’s got to put a stop to it.
MRS. HAWKING:
Someone is. Stay off the streets, and you’ll live through this.
MARY JANE:
And what about you? Walking around bold as brass— are you the one, then? I’ve heard of you! The avenger they talk of, the one who looks out for women. I could help you!
MRS. HAWKING:
I don’t need help from the likes of you.
MARY JANE:
And what like is that? Poor girls? Or just whores?
(Pause.)
MARY JANE:
I know how they talk about you. I don’t care what you think of me, I’m on your side— if everything they say is true.
MRS. HAWKING:
What do they say?
MARY JANE:
That you make men afraid.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Who are you? Where did you come from?
MARY JANE:
Limerick. And some Cardiff.
MRS. HAWKING:
You don’t sound it.
MARY JANE:
I’ve been to school some. We weren’t all of us always trash. But my husband died down the mine, and my family sent me away.
MRS. HAWKING:
For being widowed? Not likely. What really happened?
MARY JANE:
(Sighing) There weren’t no husband. But I had a baby, see? And no one in the village would have anything to do with me. So the nuns took him, and I was on my own.
MRS. HAWKING:
And there was nothing else for you?
MARY JANE:
Some of us ain’t lucky. Don’t mean we deserve to die.
(Pause.)
MARY JANE:
More than that, ma’am, I’ve found something— something nobody else has. A woman who knew them. All four of them.
MRS. HAWKING:
All four of the victims? But no one knew all of them. There’s been no connection between them.
MARY JANE:
Nothing the coppers could find. But I did. I know the streets around here— do you?
MRS. HAWKING:
Who is this person?
MARY JANE:
If I tell you— will you let me help?
(NATHANIEL prepares in the Hawking parlor. Enter CLARA.)
NATHANIEL:
Darling? What’s this?
CLARA:
Chapman was brushing out your overcoat and found your wallet in the pocket. I thought I’d bring it by.
NATHANIEL:
Oh— thank you. Only I’m sure Chapman could have—
(CLARA sets a flask out on the table.)
CLARA:
He also found this. And the sideboard dry. And two more hidden among your things.
(Pause.)
CLARA:
It’s getting worse, isn’t it? Is that why you’ve been sleeping in the dressing room?
NATHANIEL:
Not sleeping, more like. The nightmares still.
CLARA:
About Mrs. Frost.
NATHANIEL:
About what happened. Things she said to me.
CLARA:
Darling, I’m sorry. But she’s finished, Nathaniel. And she’s a liar.
NATHANIEL:
Not in everything. And I can’t seem to get it out of my head.
CLARA:
What’s to be done?
NATHANIEL:
I don’t know. But… I’m not well, love.
CLARA:
This is a serious case you’re working— you’re after a madman. If you’re not well…
NATHANIEL:
This is important, Clara. Women’s lives are at stake. Madam and Mary need me. I can’t let them down.
CLARA:
Then… we’ll manage it, somehow. We’ll come through this.
NATHANIEL:
How?
CLARA:
Together.
(They embrace. MRS. HAWKING and MARY enter.)
MRS. HAWKING:
They’ll be here any minute. Clara— what brings you here?
CLARA:
Oh, I just wanted to remind you that we’ll be interviewing governesses for Beatrice soon. I’m open to advice if you speak gently.
MRS. HAWKING:
God as my witness, I’ll at least see that she studies history and logic beside etiquette and conversational French. But you’d best be on your way now, unless you’re keen to sit in on an interview with a rather different sort of woman.
NATHANIEL:
(Whispers) The fallen kind.
CLARA:
My goodness. I’ll leave that part out when I talk to the governesses.
(CLARA exits.)
MARY:
I wanted to ask… how did you come to find this Mary Jane Kelly? It isn’t as though she’s mentioned in the inquests.
MRS. HAWKING:
I made a consultation. The idea of workhouse infirmaries arose.
NATHANIEL:
You consulted with someone? Who?
MRS. HAWKING:
Elizabeth Frost.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
I beg your pardon?
MRS. HAWKING:
This is an opaque problem with lives at stake. The circumstances demanded it.
NATHANIEL:
You… still see her? You still go to see her? Why?
MRS. HAWKING:
To keep eyes on her.
MARY:
Because she’s so dangerous.
MRS. HAWKING:
They can’t take that away from her, even in there.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
You know what she did to me.
MRS. HAWKING:
I know.
MARY:
Then how can you trust her?
MRS. HAWKING:
I don’t. But we are at a severe disadvantage investigating this. More lives may be lost if we can’t track this killer down.
MARY:
But she’s a monster.
MRS. HAWKING:
And that’s why I can’t let her out of my sight.
MARY:
Still— after all she put Nathaniel through—
NATHANIEL:
No. The circumstances are dire. We must use every advantage we have.
(The bell rings. MARY lets in MARY JANE KELLY with VIOLET STRALLAN.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Good afternoon, Miss Kelly. Thank you for coming. These are my assistants, my maid, Miss Stone, and my nephew, Mr. Hawking.
MARY JANE:
(To NATHANIEL) You all right then, sir?
NATHANIEL:
Ah— I’m sorry. It’s only— I’ve never met one before. One of you before. Not that it isn’t a pleasure to make your acquaintance— the way it would any lady— I’ve only never had occasion, to— meet one. One of you. I’m married— I’m not the sort— oh, good heavens.
MARY JANE:
…Pleased to meet you too.
VIOLET:
Blimey. Fancy place you’ve got here.
MRS. HAWKING:
I take it you are Miss Violet Strallan?
VIOLET:
Yes, ma’am. And I’d be obliged if we could get on with things. I’ll have to be back across town for work.
MARY:
We’ll get to it, then. So you knew all of the four victims?
VIOLET:
Knew might be a bit strong— but I met them. Over the course of my work, I ran into them here and there.
MARY:
Are you… in the same profession as Miss Kelly and the others?
VIOLET:
I’m a nurse. I used to have a place with a doctor in town, but… now it’s the infirmaries, or for folks about in the neighborhood.
MARY JANE:
Do you think we’re all streetwalkers, then? Polly and Annie weren’t neither.
NATHANIEL:
They weren’t?
MRS. HAWKING:
How can you be so certain?
MARY JANE:
Because folks would have said! I told you, I been asking around. Nobody said it but newspapermen who make up whatever they please.
VIOLET:
And what difference if they were?
MRS. HAWKING:
Indeed. Then, when you say the infirmaries, you mean those in the workhouses?
VIOLET:
Yes, ma’am. That’s where I met them— they’d come to stay, and came in taken ill.
MARY:
Do you recall when?
VIOLET:
What, each one? Can’t rightly say, but… all of them in the last year or so.
MRS. HAWKING:
When you saw them, was there anyone else who was also about at all the same times? A particular doctor, perhaps?
VIOLET:
I… I don’t remember.
MRS. HAWKING:
Think on it— who might have been in the same place to encounter them when you did?
VIOLET:
I don’t know, all right? It weren’t always the same workhouse, see?
NATHANIEL:
You went between them? More than once? Why?
VIOLET:
Weren’t my choice. Handed me my papers.
MRS. HAWKING:
Why? We’ve no time for games, Miss Strallan.
MARY JANE:
Might as well tell, Violet.
VIOLET:
I… I’ve a taste for drink. They catch me at the cabinet a time too many, then toss me out for a few months, and I go between the two.
MRS. HAWKING:
I see.
MARY JANE:
Here now, what’s it matter?
MRS. HAWKING:
When you said you had a witness, I’d hoped she remembered something of use.
NATHANIEL:
Madam— perhaps be kind—
VIOLET:
I didn’t know it were something worth recalling!
MRS. HAWKING:
But a madman may have walked in your midst. A madman may still! Do you want more women to end up like the others?
MARY JANE:
I thought you supposed to be on our side.
VIOLET:
What’s that they say of you? You help folks who ain’t got nobody else. Well, let me tell you— there’s nobody more friendless than us.
MARY:
Of course. It’s only that we must find this man to do it. And what you remember may be our only way.
VIOLET:
Well… the first one, Polly, came in for gout in her knee, must have been late February… then the second had that sore on her back… Annie shared whiskey she nicked with me… oh! There was— one name. It were so odd, I couldn’t help make note. The times I met them, folks were coming by the wards, asking for one doctor by name. Dr. Savin.
MRS. HAWKING:
And who is that? Did you know him?
VIOLET:
No. Far as I could tell, there was no doctor there by the name of Savin. Still, folks would come asking, saying they had money, to tell him they came by.
NATHANIEL:
Can’t be a mistake if so many people came looking.
MRS. HAWKING:
Are you certain, Miss Strallan, you can’t think of anyone who was there at the same times the women were?
MARY JANE:
She already told you, for heaven’s sake! Must you keep bullying?
No. We’ve got something to go on now. We’ll proceed with that.
NATHANIEL:
In the meantime, you might do well to spend as little time on the streets of Whitechapel as you can. Perhaps the workhouses as well.
VIOLET:
It’s our home— where else can we go?
MARY JANE:
I won’t just hide while that monster’s still out there.
NATHANIEL:
You’ve handled this very bravely, Miss Kelly. But you must trust us. We’ll find justice for them. We promise.
MRS. HAWKING:
Nathaniel, hail a cab for Misses Kelly and Strallan. See that they’re taken wherever they wish to go.
NATHANIEL:
Of course, madam.
MARY JANE:
(To MRS. HAWKING) They had names, you know. Polly Nichols. Annie Chapman. Elizabeth Stride. Catherine Eddowes. Don’t forget.
(She exits with NATHANIEL and VIOLET.)
MRS. HAWKING:
We’ll look into this Dr. Savin, see if he goes by any other name.
MARY:
Perhaps there are records to be had, of people in a similar place as Violet in the workhouses.
(Pause.)
MARY:
You never told us you visited Frost.
MRS. HAWKING:
I didn’t want to trouble you.
MARY:
I believe you never wanted trouble. Though perhaps not the way you mean. Is this what we do now? We… work around one another, so that it’s less trouble for the both of us?
MRS. HAWKING:
I don’t know. What was your reasoning, for when you kept your cases and your policeman behind my back?
MARY:
I suppose there was something of that. But that’s not how I want it to be. I made a promise that I wouldn’t keep secrets just because I was afraid of what you’d think.
(Pause.)
MARY:
Arthur’s asked me to marry him. I haven’t given him an answer yet. I don’t know yet how it would fit into things. But I mean to consider it, and I wanted you to know.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
I knew. I knew that, one day, you would leave for that man.
MARY:
Leaving? I haven’t even accepted him!
MRS. HAWKING:
But you will, and that will be the end of it, and put finish to this betrayal of years by inches.
MARY:
When you said you understood I’d be having my own life— what did that mean? As long as nothing ever changed? As long as you approved of whatever I chose?
MRS. HAWKING:
I wonder what choice you’ll have. How precisely do you plan to carry out missions and conduct investigations when your husband is expecting you at home?
MARY:
And who is it that will make me choose?
MRS. HAWKING:
The circumstances. As they do for us all.
MARY:
Nathaniel gets his life. He’s got his work and his family, and you don’t begrudge him that.
MRS. HAWKING:
I’m only grateful he has something to take him away once in a while.
MARY:
But it doesn’t stop him being of use. Do you expect any less from me?
MRS. HAWKING:
On the contrary. You can become things that Nathaniel never could.
MARY:
And what is that? You?
MRS. HAWKING:
Better than me! You could carry out real change in the world. Not just a few rescued souls here and there, but a true challenge to everything that makes them so vulnerable. You can be more than I ever could.
MARY:
If that’s so… why can’t I do it my own way?
MRS. HAWKING:
Because marriage will take it all from you. I would move heaven and earth to spare you that.
MARY:
I know what your marriage was like. What your husband was like. But that’s not Arthur. You don’t know him.
MRS. HAWKING:
I know men. There is no free pursuit of our work among them. And there’d be no need for it without them. And… I don’t want to lose you.
(Pause.)
MARY:
You say I can do better. Be better. But you don’t believe that.
MRS. HAWKING:
I believe that more than anything—
MARY:
No. Because that would mean you believe things could change. And that you cannot imagine. Not even for me, no matter how I may love you, even when you make it so hard. So I pray to God, madam, it is true after all. That I need never, ever be like you.
(Pause.)
MARY:
I’ll be after those records, then. Those women are counting on us.
(MARY exits.)
(The asylum. MRS. HAWKING consults with MRS. FROST as she leafs through a newspaper.)
MRS. FROST:
Well, it’s a solid lead if the information’s reliable. A shame you couldn’t dig up a better class of witness.
MRS. HAWKING:
Drunks and streetwalkers are vulnerable; that’s why he chooses them.
MRS. FROST:
So what do you make of this mysterious Dr. Savin?
MRS. HAWKING:
I expect it’s a pseudonym. Someone running a side venture under the cover of the workhouse infirmary.
MRS. FROST:
And you think that’s your man? Must be busy, ministering to unfortunates during the day while butchering them at night.
MRS. HAWKING:
Whoever it is, it seems he had the same exposure to the previous four victims that the nurse did. And that’s the only lead we have so far.
MRS. FROST:
How lovely it must be to have a real problem again. After me, I can only imagine how dull your cases must seem by comparison.
MRS. HAWKING:
Four murders is too interesting even for me.
MRS. FROST:
Only because they still confound you. And Alexander wept, that among infinite worlds he was not yet master of one.
MRS. HAWKING:
Your empire crumbled much the same as his did. Without you, none of your remaining lieutenants could hold it.
MRS. FROST:
And I’m sure you had your fun hastening it along. Do you know how long I worked to build it all? Have you any idea what I had to do?
MRS. HAWKING:
I know what it takes to break out of one’s cage.
MRS. FROST:
Indeed. So, dear boss, what’s your next move? How shall you be hunting down this so-called Dr. Savin?
MRS. HAWKING:
Mary is looking into records of who served in the workhouses in a medical capacity at the same times Miss Strallan did.
MRS. FROST:
Hm. Why don’t you tell me about this girl of yours? Miss Mary Stone.
MRS. HAWKING:
Why? So you can lock her in a room and torment her too?
MRS. FROST:
No, I leave that to you these days. But it’s a rare maid that means so much to a solitary goblin like you. Your nephew’s history I read like a newspaper, but that girl’s name was hardly known in her own church.
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
I told you. Only the first time was free.
MRS. HAWKING:
(Sighing) She is… fearless. She came to me knowing… nothing, or near to it. Having seen nothing of the world and nor knowing any advantage of it, she offered herself up to learn everything, anything that it took to take on its darkness. Fearless to learn, fearless to fail, fearless of everything. Even of me. I always thought… I was the limit of what challenge could be made. But she made me hopeful. For the first time in twenty years… I had hope.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
She could be everything. If she chooses to be.
MRS. FROST:
Fascinating. I can’t say I ever thought that for my own daughter.
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
What? Does it surprise you to hear about my girl?
MRS. HAWKING:
You mean Miranda, née Cameron, now Mrs. Michael Barrymore of Hong Kong? You’re not the only one who does research.
MRS. FROST:
Fair enough. I suppose we were never so close. Honestly, I meant to avoid the whole business, but Miranda caught us by surprise in ’64— same year as yours, I believe. Though to somewhat more permanent effect. I did my best for her, but I suppose I was like you in that regard— not cut out for the softer parts of motherhood.
MRS. HAWKING:
Does she even know what’s become of you? I notice there have been no letters.
MRS. FROST:
As I said— I brought her up right. Governesses, boarding school, a respectable marriage. Enough that she has no need of me anymore. But I suppose it’s for the best. There are costs to living as you and I have. Why drag them down with us?
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
What if Mary finds no name that matches the times of Miss Strallan’s employment? The records in these places are hardly precise.
MRS. HAWKING:
I suppose I’ll have to track him by his false name. See what people want with Dr. Savin.
(MRS. FROST abruptly stops rifling through her newspaper.)
MRS. FROST:
Half a moment— what does “savin” mean?
MRS. HAWKING:
It’s a kind of juniper. But it has no medical use; it’s a poison. Could they mean to hire a poisoner, do you think?
MRS. FROST:
Yes! But not the way you mean.
MRS. HAWKING:
What? What is it?
MRS. FROST:
He’s an abortionist. He’s an abortionist! Think on it! He’s a physician, but this he must practice in secret, under a false name. Then poor and desperate women put themselves in his hands, who no one would miss if they disappeared.
MRS. HAWKING:
Those women were not with child.
MRS. FROST:
Not those women! But I wager this is how he began. Girls who died on the table. Girls who died for their own mistake. And no one dare give him away, lest anyone discover what they wanted of him.
MRS. HAWKING:
But now helpless, unconscious girls aren’t enough. Now, to capture the thrill again, he has to hunt them. Polly Nichols. Annie Chapman. Elizabeth Stride. Catherine Eddowes.
MRS. FROST:
And now, you may hunt him. You’re welcome.
(The Hawking parlor. NATHANIEL is going over papers and drinking from his flask. Enter MRS. HAWKING.)
MRS. HAWKING:
What’s this?
NATHANIEL:
Apologies. I’m out of sorts. That, and I gave my whole wallet to a prostitute out of pity yesterday—
MRS. HAWKING:
Put it down. On your feet.
NATHANIEL:
Please not now, I don’t— I’m not dressed—
MRS. HAWKING:
Do you think that will matter in the thick of it? On your feet, Hawking.
NATHANIEL:
I don’t think you mean to practice.
(She throws a punch and stops at his chin.)
MRS. HAWKING:
There! You’re dead.
NATHANIEL:
I won’t do this.
(She pulls another blow.)
MRS. HAWKING:
And there! You’re dead again! Come now, defend yourself!
NATHANIEL:
Auntie—
MRS. HAWKING:
Come on!
(She shoves him.)
NATHANIEL:
Madam—
MRS. HAWKING:
Come on!
NATHANIEL:
Do you think I won’t take a beating for you? Haven’t I proved that already?
(She backs off, ashamed.)
NATHANIEL:
I know you’re still… not well. I know how hard things have been.
MRS. HAWKING:
I thought that… when we put paid to Frost… that would quiet it. But it hasn’t.
NATHANIEL:
I understand. Better than you may think.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
I used to be so certain of myself. Of my plans, my capabilities. I operated alone for nearly twenty years, God blast it. But now… perhaps because I’ve grown older. Perhaps I’m too accustomed to having help. But now everything seems so much greater than me.
NATHANIEL:
You used to be alone. But you’re not anymore. We’re a team, we’re supposed to rely one other—
MRS. HAWKING:
Of course, of course.
NATHANIEL:
Why do you keep talking like that? We’ve done nothing but work to help you for eight years.
MRS. HAWKING:
Indeed? Is that what you call lying to me for a year and a half?
NATHANIEL:
We’ve apologized a hundred times for that mistake. One we made for love of you. Has it really destroyed all faith you had in us? Is that why you turn to Mrs. Frost instead?
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
You don’t understand.
NATHANIEL:
Then explain it to me. Why do you need her so? To solve this case?
MRS. HAWKING:
She’s brilliant. More than we are, any of us.
NATHANIEL:
We can manage it. The three of us, like we always do.
MRS. HAWKING:
This is different.
NATHANIEL:
How?
MRS. HAWKING:
Because I feel a ruin, Nathaniel, and it isn’t getting better! Because the police have stopped me from operating, and I’m getting older every day, and I rely upon a support driven to drink! What is there that fixes all that?
NATHANIEL:
Whatever it is, you won’t find it in Elizabeth Frost.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
I want you to stop going to her. For my sake, if not for yours.
MRS. HAWKING:
Nathaniel—
NATHANIEL:
I know what she means to you. I know that isn’t easily erased.
MRS. HAWKING:
It isn’t about that—
NATHANIEL:
And I know the guilt you bear over locking her away.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Can you blame me?
NATHANIEL:
No. It was a terrible thing. But you had no choice. You did it to save me… and everyone else she stood to hurt. But Elizabeth Frost is poison. I know what it’s like to listen to her; I may never shake her voice from inside my head. And you know as well as I do that she knows where you are weak.
MRS. HAWKING:
So what am I to do?
NATHANIEL:
Let us be there to help carry the burden. Stop trying to push us away.
MRS. HAWKING:
Oh, for Christ’s sake—!
NATHANIEL:
No! That’s what people do; that’s how they survive. I must believe that, or… I’ll spend the rest of my life tied to a chair again in Frost’s lair whenever I close my eyes.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
You are stronger than for one beating to break you.
NATHANIEL:
It wasn’t just the beating. She… said things. Things I’d do anything to forget. About me, my life… and about you and Uncle.
MRS. HAWKING:
What do you mean?
NATHANIEL:
You need never doubt again that I know why it is so hard for you to look at me.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
If I’ve suffered for you, so you have for me. We ought to do what we can for each other. So that we don’t carry this forever. I want us to heal. I want you to teach my son and inspire my daughter. I won’t give up on that— won’t you do the same?
MRS. HAWKING:
Of course. God forbid for a moment you’re out of good graces.
NATHANIEL:
It isn’t about that anymore! Can we never move forward? How can I— there! That’s it.
MRS. HAWKING:
What are you doing?
NATHANIEL:
Putting the past to rest. It’s long past time.
(He takes down the Colonel’s portrait from the wall.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Why?
NATHANIEL:
Because I have hope for both of us to get better.
MRS. HAWKING:
What will you do with it?
NATHANIEL:
I’ll… take it home with me. Put in the study, or the hall… someplace of respect. He deserves that much. But he doesn’t need to be… there, hanging over you always.
MRS. HAWKING:
Your father will give you hell. Thank you.
NATHANIEL:
I should have done it years ago. But I mean to look forward now.
(The doorbell rings. MARY enters to answer it and pauses at the empty mantle, but MRS. HAWKING waves her to the bell. MARY opens the door to let in ARTHUR.)
MARY:
Arthur! What are you doing here?
ARTHUR:
The girl from Whitechapel— the one you found. Was her name Mary Jane Kelly? Did she live at Miller’s Court?
MRS. HAWKING:
Why?
ARTHUR:
Dear Christ. Because she’s dead.
MRS. HAWKING:
What?
ARTHUR:
Murdered in her bed— more than murdered. Was on the scene myself a few hours ago. Never saw anything like it in my life.
NATHANIEL:
How did it happen?
ARTHUR:
Don’t you see? He got her. The Ripper— he found her, and he did her like the others.
NATHANIEL:
Good God.
ARTHUR:
No. It were worse than the others. Madness. From a bloody nightmare. Her landlord found her in her room at Miller’s Court. When we got to the scene, I saw her, sir. I went into that room. It was… I weren’t ready. Not for that.
NATHANIEL:
That— that can’t have been an accident. He had to know.
MRS. HAWKING:
Which means he knows we’re on his trail.
NATHANIEL:
How could he ever have found that out? Just because— she was asking after the case?
ARTHUR:
I don’t know. I don’t know. But she don’t fit the pattern. She was alone in her house. He had to have known to go after her.
(Pause.)
ARTHUR:
Never saw even an animal butchered like that. Opened up like a deer, but not dressed out neat. She was… in pieces, all over that room. On the mantelpiece! In the hearth! Everywhere! It were… it were…
MARY:
Oh, Arthur. We— we can still find him. It’s not too late!
ARTHUR:
It is for Miss Kelly. We failed her.
NATHANIEL:
If he knew about Mary Jane, he could be after Violet too.
ARTHUR:
He’s already gotten her, for all we know. While the assistant commissioner shuffles papers back and forth to the Home Office!
MRS. HAWKING:
The Home Office? What have they got to do with it?
ARTHUR:
Commissioner Warren’s been battling the Home Secretary since the beginning! The assistant commissioner is his man, you know— Secretary Matthews put Robert Anderson in charge of the case. First he disappears off to Switzerland for a month, now he drowns us in red tape.
NATHANIEL:
Do you mean to say that the Home Secretary is interfering in the investigation?
ARTHUR:
Since the bloody beginning. Warren up and resigned last night, thanks to all the badgering.
MRS. HAWKING:
What could the Home Office possibly— unless it means to hinder them? Or— protect him.
NATHANIEL:
What? Why would it do such a thing?
MRS. HAWKING:
I don’t know. But it can’t stand. You, now— Sergeant Swann. You’re on the case now, are you? Then you can get close. You’ve got to implicate this Robert Anderson in something— women, embezzling, some scandal, and get him off tossed off his post.
ARTHUR:
Are you joking?
MRS. HAWKING:
Do you imagine that for a moment?
ARTHUR:
Here, now, madam. I never told no one about Miss Strallan because you asked me to— nor you, for that matter. But it’s quite another thing to make up false evidence against an innocent man.
MRS. HAWKING:
Hardly innocent, if he’s a tool of such a scheme. And policemen do it every day for less than this.
MARY:
To what end? Won’t they just put another of their men in his place?
ARTHUR:
I mean to help you, madam. But I took an oath.
MRS. HAWKING:
As if that meant anything to the likes of you! You wouldn’t need my help if your brothers in arms were capable. And I wouldn’t need yours if they were not corrupt.
ARTHUR:
Then one of us ought to do better! Don’t you think?
(Pause.)
ARTHUR:
I want this monster found as bad as you do. But I won’t do that.
MRS. HAWKING:
Then stand aside. You’re of no use to anyone.
MARY:
Here now! There’s no need for that. Arthur’s doing what he can.
MRS. HAWKING:
Of course. I suppose you would know.
MARY:
There’s no time for this. We’ve got to find Violet, before that madman does.
NATHANIEL:
But where? She doesn’t have a permanent address.
MARY:
That may be a blessing in disguise; if we have to search for her, so does he.
ARTHUR:
The badge will let me look in at the workhouses.
MARY:
Good, the infirmaries as well as the wards. There are also the lodging and public houses, not to mention the streets in between.
NATHANIEL:
You mean we must comb through all of Whitechapel?
MARY:
There’s no time to lose. Can you?
MRS. HAWKING:
Yes. He can. Hail a cab and take the sergeant. I am counting on you.
(She takes down the gun from the wall and hands it to him. He turns to ARTHUR.)
NATHANIEL:
Come on, now. We’ll go it together.
(Exit ARTHUR and NATHANIEL. MARY goes to follow, but MRS. HAWKING stops her. She writes a note and hands it to MARY.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Just a moment. Find a boy and pay him to go to this address with a message for Mrs. Johanna Braun.
MARY:
Johanna Braun? From the German embassy case? What for?
MRS. HAWKING:
Tell her I’m calling in my marker. I want to talk to her mother.
Scene 2.1
(A DISTINGUISHED MATRON in widow’s weeds waits. Enter MRS. HAWKING.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Madam.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Still insisting on this stealth nonsense, I see. Take off that ridiculous hood; we know who you are. If nothing else, you’ll stand before us uncovered. You are fortunate we even deign to see you, with all your conditions and terms.
MRS. HAWKING:
You cannot afford to make an enemy of me.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
As you will not let us forget. But enough of this; what do you want?
MRS. HAWKING:
I want his name. You know who I mean. This has gone too far.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Why would you believe we even possess that information?
MRS. HAWKING:
Because you bar my way after him. Having the Home Office install a puppet in the investigation, to drown the case in bureaucracy and keep the police off his trail? This man must have very high friends indeed. You must know something.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
It is not so simple.
MRS. HAWKING:
What then? Of course. You’ve made use of him. Haven’t you? Your blasted grandson getting upsets on Catholic shop girls again?
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Have a care what you suggest, madam.
MRS. HAWKING:
You permit a butcher of women to roam free in your own city!
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
There is more at stake here than a few lost souls.
MRS. HAWKING:
There is nothing more at stake than this!
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Is that what you believe? Before you were even born, I came into a burden the weight of half the world. For fifty years I have held it together against the constant battering of time and tide. You cannot imagine what it calls for to keep the balance. To bring order, progress, stability out of the chaos. And you rage against it in your heedless fury? Who would you be, if you were not a daughter of my empire?
(Pause.)
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
The Colonel never knew about any of this, did he? Well. I suppose he had secrets enough of his own.
MRS. HAWKING:
What do you mean?
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
If he never saw fit to tell you, I am not about to. I suppose in that you are even. Suffice it to say, he understood that which you do not.
MRS. HAWKING:
My life’s work will be to burn down everything you’ve built.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
You will not be the first to try. Now. This has gone far enough. What are your terms?
MRS. HAWKING:
First— stand down your men. Do what you like with the police, but you will not shield him from me.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
(Sighing) He’s no longer of any use like this. But it cannot come out— none of this affair, nor anything that he knows. And what else?
MRS. HAWKING:
I want. The name.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Whatever you do— we can neither help nor protect you.
MRS. HAWKING:
I have always done without that.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
You must end it. He disappears, without a witness, without a word.
MRS. HAWKING:
On that, we are agreed. Now, madam. The name.
(The asylum. MRS. HAWKING prepares herself as MRS. FROST draws on a map.)
MRS. HAWKING:
You were right in most of it. Former military surgeon, returning from the Boers to build quite the place for himself, quietly relieving society families of unwanted heirs. All the while volunteering his ministry to the unfortunates of the workhouses as an act of Christian charity.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
I ought to cut him down on the carpet in his office on Harley Street.
MRS. FROST:
How quiet is it when such a man is found murdered in his bed? It’ll have to be in whatever lair he keeps for cutting up gravid women in Whitechapel.
MRS. HAWKING:
I sent Clara to look into Harley Street physicians doing charity work. But there’s no time to waste waiting.
MRS. FROST:
Ah, yes, your charming, well-connected niece-in-law. No matter, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Eliminating the very public establishments, the ones explored by the police… and all the partitioned residential flats. Even in Whitechapel, it’s not the sort of work that can bear the scrutiny of the neighbors.
MRS. HAWKING:
I imagine there were quite a few bodies to spirit out of the place, when he first started indulging his impulses.
MRS. FROST:
Which narrows his prospects considerably, to our advantage. Therefore… given the spread of proximity, and the path from the Eddowes scene to the bloody scrap of her apron found on Goulston Street… there.
MRS. HAWKING:
How can you be sure?
MRS. FROST:
Close enough. You may have to do a little reconnaissance. But you’re good at that, dear boss. And you’ll be in uniform again.
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Since you could solve a problem the straightforward way. Not since the children came into things, I imagine.
MRS. HAWKING:
Not everyone has the stomach for it.
MRS. FROST:
What’s your approach?
MRS. HAWKING:
Attack from behind, control the back. Get the neck in a hold and bring the blade in to end it. With speed it’ll be over in a blow or two.
MRS. FROST:
What if you can’t get behind him?
MRS. HAWKING:
Go for the hands. Cripple him first, or at least knock out the knife. Worse case, bone shield to ward him until I’m close enough to disarm.
MRS. FROST:
And you’re certain he can’t fight like you?
MRS. HAWKING:
What are the chances? He cuts up street women; he’s a butcher, not a warrior.
MRS. FROST:
Most likely. But he’ll be bigger than you— taller, longer reach. And most certainly he’ll be younger.
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
I can’t believe you still do this sort of thing yourself. How old are you now? Forty-eight? And you’re still racing along rooftops and hurling yourself at grown men? Good God, my bones ache thinking about it.
MRS. HAWKING:
I manage.
MRS. FROST:
But for how much longer? Do you really think you can keep this up when you’re fifty years old?
MRS. HAWKING:
Is that what you think?
MRS. FROST:
Yes. Because you’re a woman, Victoria. Because you have a gaping wound in you and they can smell it. You can’t afford not to think of it.
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
If he gets a hold of you, you’re finished.
MRS. HAWKING:
I’ll have to be fast. Hit and run, if I have to.
MRS. FROST:
Worry him down. Might do. But then he’ll know you’re coming.
MRS. HAWKING:
There will be something. You can strategize all you like, but you can’t know until you’re in it. I’ll find something. If I couldn’t, I would not have made it to this age.
MRS. FROST:
I suppose that’s true. But you were always very sure of yourself. After all, you had no fear to biff a hero soldier twice your size the moment you laid eyes on him. Tell me, was that the last time? That you took a swing at Reginald?
(Pause.)
MRS. FROST:
Oh, it wasn’t, was it? Fiery young fool that you were. But surely he never struck back. Heavens. Did you know how lucky you were? If he’d wanted to, what do you think he could’ve done? Of course he never knew how dangerous you were. Heavens, it’s a wonder you keep from cuffing that nephew of yours any time you lay eyes on him.
(Pause.)
MRS. HAWKING:
He is a different man than his uncle was. He’s… forthright, and hopeful, and always says exactly what’s on his mind. Not at all the same, except… now and again, he’ll tip his head to ask a question, or drop his chin to laugh. And it will be like seeing that blasted ghost.
MRS. FROST:
I’m curious— do you think you could have beaten him? Did you ever wonder, over the years? Of course you did. Oh, I know you so well. He wasn’t just a soldier, he was a warrior too. Of course you wondered.
MRS. HAWKING:
I didn’t wonder. I knew. I was in continual practice; he went soft in his old age. I could’ve beaten him. I know I could.
MRS. FROST:
And when he was a fit young hero? Instead of a broken, middle-aged wretch?
MRS. HAWKING:
Even then! I told you, I remade myself! I worked, and practiced, and struggled every spare moment! Because… if I had not… any man with no more than God gave him could wreck me. Reginald fought with sabres and rode gymkhana— he was a warrior, blast him. But he was a man, so he didn’t have to be. I did.
MRS. FROST:
Were you hoping he’d fight you? Were you looking for the chance?
MRS. HAWKING:
What good would that do me? It would have revealed everything. Only a fool would have wanted that.
MRS. FROST:
Nothing you ever wanted was good for you. But it was foolish, and not just for that. As if he’d ever have raised a hand to you. He loved you, poor devil. And he wasn’t that sort of man.
MRS. HAWKING:
No. But he thought I’d break into pieces. I wished, just once, he knew it wouldn’t have been me.
MRS. FROST:
My dear boss. You are a twisted creature, aren’t you?
MRS. HAWKING:
You would know.
MRS. FROST:
Better than anyone. Good hunting, darling.
(The streets of Whitechapel. VIOLET stumbles in, drunk and afraid. NATHANIEL enters and spots her.)
NATHANIEL:
Miss Strallan? Oh, thank God! We’ve been after you for days!
VIOLET:
Mr. Hawking? Oh, no, you can’t be here! He’s coming after me— he’ll find me!
NATHANIEL:
You must come with me.
VIOLET:
Don’t you see? He knows you’re after him! You’ll lead him right to me!
NATHANIEL:
It’s all right, we’ll protect you.
VIOLET:
Like you did Mary Jane?
NATHANIEL:
Mary Jane is the reason we’re here. Please, try to pull yourself together—
VIOLET:
Don’t you judge me! You don’t know how it is!
NATHANIEL:
No, I don’t. But I promise you, I don’t judge.
VIOLET:
Mary Jane was the strong one! So much stronger than me. If she couldn’t escape him, what chance do I have?
NATHANIEL:
You must be the strong one now— for Mary Jane, and for the others. And you don’t have to do it alone. Now, please, we must go!
(NATHANIEL spots a masked figure lurking. He pulls VIOLET behind him as the man lunges for her. NATHANIEL fumbles with the gun, but his assailant tears it from his hands. He throws a few punches like he practiced, but dodges back as the man pulls a blade.)
(MARY appears and seizes his knife arm, turning it aside. ARTHUR rushes in and grabs onto his other side. They beat him down and disarm him, holding him onto his knees.)
ARTHUR:
Jesus Christ!
MARY:
Thank God we came in time! Nathaniel, are you all right?
NATHANIEL:
He came for Miss Strallan! Is she—?
(MARY goes to see to VIOLET.)
MARY:
She’s not hurt. But who—?
ROLAND:
Bloody hell. Joe Quinn?
(ARTHUR pulls off his mask, revealing ROLAND DAVIES.)
NATHANIEL:
You!
ARTHUR:
Roland Davies!
ROLAND:
Not you lot again! Hasn’t your boy’s mug had enough of me yet?
MARY:
You— you’re Elizabeth Frost’s henchman! What’s got you after this woman?
ROLAND:
Thought you lot were supposed to be clever. What do you think?
NATHANIEL:
Mrs. Frost sent you?
ROLAND:
I know where my bread’s buttered— I was her man for all the years she crushed the city under her thumb.
NATHANIEL:
But why go after Violet? Why— arrange for you to help that monster? What is going on here!?
ROLAND:
You think four white walls is enough to stop Kingmaker?
(Enter CLARA.)
CLARA:
There you are! Thank God!
NATHANIEL:
Clara? What are you doing here? You know it isn’t safe!
CLARA:
I know, but I had to find you. My God, who is—?
NATHANIEL:
Never mind him now. What is it?
CLARA:
You must tell me— is Aunt Victoria with you? Did she ever come to meet you?
NATHANIEL:
No, come to think, she never did. Why do you ask?
CLARA:
I went by the house— I’d finished the research into Harley Street doctors volunteering their time in Whitechapel. No one was home, so I let myself in. I went to take the intelligence up to her study, and the cupboard was empty— her suit is gone.
NATHANIEL:
She’s wearing the suit again? But the police are everywhere, why would she—?
CLARA:
You told me what she said. That hood would be the last thing that man would ever see. She’s found the Ripper. And she means to kill him.
ARTHUR:
You mean— would she do such a thing?
CLARA:
She would have killed Frost. There isn’t any doubt in my mind.
ARTHUR:
But— how could she know where to find him? We don’t even know his name.
MARY:
I think she does.
NATHANIEL:
How? Without telling anyone?
MARY:
That’s the trouble. She did tell someone. Arthur, can you see that Mr. Davies is taken into the Yard, then escort Miss Strallan safe back to the house?
ARTHUR:
I can, Mary. But… what are you going to do? How will you find her?
MARY:
I don’t know yet. But I know how to find out.
(The asylum, where MRS. FROST waits. Enter NATHANIEL, CLARA, and MARY.)
MRS. FROST:
Why, Mr. and Mrs. Hawking! Good evening! Nathaniel, my boy, you’re looking well since last I saw you. And how is your lovely wife? May she burn in hell.
CLARA:
Spare us, Frost.
MRS. FROST:
I must confess, madam, I’ve taken your name in vain more than once since I’ve been here.
CLARA:
I don’t think of you at all.
MRS. FROST:
And yet you’re here. Both of you… and the girl. You must be Mary. My dear, I’ve heard so much about you.
NATHANIEL:
What have you done?
MRS. FROST:
Whatever do you mean?
MARY:
Where is she?
MRS. FROST:
Why, didn’t she tell you? Why ever would she do that?
CLARA:
No games, Frost.
MARY:
We know she ran off on something you told her. What was it?
MRS. FROST:
Only exactly what she asked.
NATHANIEL:
For God’s sake, woman, enough! Tell us what you did!
MRS. FROST:
Just as I said! I gave her everything she needed. I helped her find him. I helped her devise her plan. Remember that I ran the demimonde of this city for years— of course I know how it operates. I knew our man the minute I saw the advertisement in the newspaper, written in the codes such men use. I couldn’t help coming to it ages before she did.
MARY:
So she’s gone after him. Alone.
MRS. FROST:
Isn’t that always her way? To sharpen her knives and stalk off without a word from anyone else. Of course she’s gone to hunt him down. Only this time it’s her walking into the trap.
MARY:
What trap? My God— you warned him.
MRS. FROST:
I may have sent an illuminating letter or two.
NATHANIEL:
You don’t mean… that madman knows she’s coming?
MRS. FROST:
Do you know how easy it was? To drive her straight into the Ripper’s lair? As if I didn’t know every rotted out hole and dark place in her.
MARY:
You sent her to be butchered.
MRS. FROST:
She destroyed everything I built. And then put me in a white room with no windows. I hope she dies sobbing.
CLARA:
You’re a monster.
MRS. FROST:
I am Kingmaker.
NATHANIEL:
If anything has happened to her— anything at all—
MRS. FROST:
What will you do? Lock me away for the rest of my life?
CLARA:
We should have let her kill you when she had the chance.
MRS. FROST:
Yes. You should have.
(MRS. FROST laughs. CLARA fetches an ORDERLY to drag her out. NATHANIEL collapses in on himself from the effort of his strong front.)
MARY:
That’s why she sent Roland after Violet. She was trying to clear the Ripper’s way, so that he could lie in wait for Madam.
NATHANIEL:
I will murder her. I swear.
MARY:
Forget her, she’s nothing anymore. We have to find Mrs. Hawking— stop her before she stumbles into the trap!
NATHANIEL:
How? We don’t even know his name!
CLARA:
She knows, God blast her. And where he must be hiding, if she sent Madam there. But we won’t have it out of her, that spiteful hag.
NATHANIEL:
How ever did she reach him? How could she know how?
MARY:
Something she said— about… seeing his advertisements, and knowing the code. What did that mean? What would he advertise?
NATHANIEL:
The abortions. He advertised the abortions; he couldn’t get the word out any other way. She knew it was him when she saw them.
CLARA:
That’s it— they’ve been communicating through the newspapers. Taking out advertisements written in code. Back and forth, until she learned where to send a letter— and where to send Mrs. Hawking.
NATHANIEL:
Madam brought her the Times every visit.
MARY:
There’s not a moment to lose. We’ve got to go through those papers!
(Exeunt.)
(The Ripper’s lair. MRS. HAWKING creeps in silently. A man, the RIPPER, sits in a chair waiting.)
RIPPER:
Good evening, Mrs. Hawking.
(He draws a gun and shoots her in the stomach. She drops.)
RIPPER:
I must say, I was rather thrown when the letters came. Imagine my surprise when it meant not to stop me, but to warn me. And even then, of a society widow, notoriously reclusive, and quite the old woman besides? I almost couldn’t believe it. But then, I’ve heard a word from Kingmaker is not to be ignored.
MRS. HAWKING:
Polly Nichols.
RIPPER:
He said not to underestimate you, which accounts for the precautions outside my usual style. But I must say, I’m not impressed, if this is what woman passes for dangerous. Make no mistake; I’ve opened up too many by now for that to hold any fascination, or fear.
MRS. HAWKING:
Annie Chapman.
(He stalks around her and kicks her over. He steps on her throat to relieve her of her knives.)
RIPPER:
You know, I fell into it in South Africa, on the Boer campaign. It happens there’s quite the demand among the officers for the sawbones to see their by-blows away. And all for what? To be crushed into a few folds of skin? I saw men roiling with disease, destroying their lives and careers for it. What was it that held such sway over men?
MRS. HAWKING:
Elizabeth Stride.
RIPPER:
Let me assure you, I have investigated. It isn’t hard to make a few gravid street whores disappear into the operating theater. You’d be shocked at how few cuts reveal them for what they are— scraps of meat, that draw nothing, catch nothing, make nothing. Tell me, do you think you’re any different?
MRS. HAWKING:
Catherine Eddowes.
RIPPER:
You thought you could come here after me? I will cut you apart as I have all the others. And when I lay you open, what will I find? It will be your soft woman’s guts. A bleeding sack of a womb, withered from disuse. The same as any other woman, made of the same meat, and every bit as soft. You think that you’re different? You think that you’re dangerous? Who do you think you are?
(He draws his gun again to finish her. In a burst of energy, she kicks it out of his hand. He leaps back as she hurls herself to her feet. He draws his knives and advances. Grasping her stomach, she dodges out of his way until she disarms him of one of his knives.)
RIPPER:
Who are you!?
(MRS. HAWKING takes off her hood and throws it at him. He raises his arm to catch it. She lunges with her knife while his vision is obscured.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Polly Nichols. Annie Chapman. Elizabeth Stride. Catherine Eddowes.
(The RIPPER fights to hold his own hand to hand against her. He hurls her away and she hits the ground hard. He leaps at her, but she snatches up his lost gun and fires. He staggers and drops.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Mary Jane Kelly.
(MRS. HAWKING collapses, slipping into a fever dream. A specter appears, of young ELIZABETH FROST as she was in 1859.)
ELIZABETH:
Well, I won’t waste any time saying I told you so. It isn’t as if you ever listen to me anyhow. You always think you know better. But if you did… you wouldn’t have ended up here. Of course, you always did love learning the hard way.
(Specters of the DISTINGUISHED MATRON, CLARA, and MARY JANE enter.)
ELIZABETH:
Well, girl?
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Sit up straight.
MRS. HAWKING:
It hurts.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Seen and not heard. You’re a very fortunate girl. You ought to count yourself that way.
MRS. HAWKING:
No. Never again.
ELIZABETH:
Ride the current or drown in it.
CLARA:
That’s just the way the world works.
MARY JANE:
Then blast the world!
ELIZABETH:
Oh, that’s right. You make your own way.
CLARA:
But you’re not alone anymore.
(Enter a specter of MARY and not clearly NATHANIEL or REGINALD HAWKING, but some ambiguous blend of the two.)
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
Will you ever trust me?
MRS. HAWKING:
Don’t touch me.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
Victoria. It’s me.
MRS. HAWKING:
Who?
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
My God, Victoria. Don’t you know?
ELIZABETH:
As if you haven’t always been lucky.
CLARA:
Governor’s girl.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
Hero’s wife.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Daughter of empire.
MARY JANE:
Burn it! Burn it all to ash!
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
You would not be the first to try.
CLARA:
Beating against the bars of your cage.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Better than you have tried.
ELIZABETH:
Haven’t you done enough?
MRS. HAWKING:
It’s finished.
CLARA:
Finished before fifty. Even he made fifty-one.
MARY JANE:
Do you think I’m afraid?
MRS. HAWKING:
I finished it.
ELIZABETH:
What’s that they say?
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
You make men afraid.
CLARA:
My funny old aunt!
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Remarkable.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
You fierce, fierce girl.
ELIZABETH:
There’s a cost to living the way you do. Who do you think you are?
MARY JANE:
Polly Nichols. Annie Chapman. Elizabeth Stride. Catherine Eddowes. Mary Jane Kelly.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Victoria Hawking.
CLARA:
Here lies Mrs. Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking.
MARY:
We had to be certain they saw you.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
Beloved mother—
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
No mother.
MARY:
Saw you for what you are.
MARY JANE:
It hurts, it hurts!
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
Beloved wife—
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
No wife.
MARY JANE:
Get it out of me! Get it out!
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
The pulse in my veins.
MARY JANE:
Put up your hands! God blast you, fight back! Do you think I’m afraid?
ELIZABETH:
But is it enough?
CLARA:
Perhaps once.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Not anymore.
MRS. HAWKING:
I finished it!
ELIZABETH:
But how?
CLARA:
The nighthawk.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
I am your creature.
MARY:
We had to be certain they saw you.
ELIZABETH:
What have you done?
MARY JANE:
Do you think I’m afraid?
MARY:
Saw you for what you are.
CLARA:
The lightning-quick shadow in the mask.
NATHANIEL/REGINALD:
I’ll do anything. If you ask it, I’ll do anything.
DISTINGUISHED MATRON:
Your ridiculous hood.
ELIZABETH:
What have you done?
MARY JANE:
Do you think I’m afraid? Not of this.
MARY:
The world offers so little recourse to women when its pressures become too great. Someone must step outside all that to do what is necessary.
(MRS. HAWKING screams. Exit NATHANIEL/REGINALD, CLARA, MARY JANE, the MATRON, and finally MARY. Enter the specter of young MALAIKA SHAH.)
ELIZABETH:
Learning the hard way, then? Fancy that.
(Exit ELIZABETH.)
MALAIKA:
It’s time, missibaba.
MRS. HAWKING:
Malaika. Let’s explore the cellar. Or go to the pond and catch frogs.
MALAIKA:
It’s getting dark out. And there is still so much to do.
MRS. HAWKING:
I can’t go on the roof anymore. That’s ruined.
MALAIKA:
We are not the girls we used to be. Too much has happened for us to ever go back.
MRS. HAWKING:
I can’t bear it. Not again.
MALAIKA:
It’s too late for that.
MRS. HAWKING:
I should have done better. I should have known.
MALAIKA:
Now you have work to do.
MRS. HAWKING:
What can I do?
MALAIKA:
Whatever you can. Whatever you have to. The way we always do.
MRS. HAWKING:
This wasn’t what I wanted. I never needed this! I never meant for this to happen! I don’t think I can bear it.
MALAIKA:
Perhaps it’s too late for you. But it is not too late for everyone.
MRS. HAWKING:
Please. Don’t go.
MALAIKA:
Victoria. I’ve been gone for a very long time.
(Exit MALAIKA. MRS. HAWKING is out again. Enter MARY and NATHANIEL.)
MARY:
This is it. Oh, I hope we’re not too late!
NATHANIEL:
My God. What happened here?
MARY:
Don’t touch anything— don’t touch anything!
NATHANIEL:
Is that— oh, God. She got him. She got him. But where—?
MARY:
There!
(She kneels beside MRS. HAWKING and feels for a pulse.)
NATHANIEL:
Christ on the cross! Is she…?
MARY:
No. But she’s badly hurt. We must get her out of here, she needs help.
NATHANIEL:
Get a cab. I’ll bring her. Oh, God, please…
(MARY exits. MRS. HAWKING stirs as NATHANIEL kneels to gather her into his arms. She struggles and fights him.)
NATHANIEL:
I’m here. It’s going to be all right.
MRS. HAWKING:
No. Don’t touch me.
NATHANIEL:
Please, be still!
MRS. HAWKING:
Keep your hands off me!
NATHANIEL:
Oh, God— Aunt Victoria, it’s Nathaniel. It’s me.
MRS. HAWKING:
Nathaniel?
(She collapses into him. MARY reenters.)
MARY:
I’ve got a cab. This way.
(They exit, NATHANIEL carrying her out.)
(The Hawking parlor. NATHANIEL waits in distress. Soon MARY and VIOLET enter.)
MARY:
We’ve done what we can. The bullet’s out, the wounds are clean, and Violet’s stitched her up.
VIOLET:
Best as I could do, anyway. She’s lucky it didn’t open her gut. But she’s still fairly ripped, and she lost a gout of blood.
NATHANIEL:
But will she be all right?
VIOLET:
Hard to say, sir. Still decent odds she’ll go septic, and she’s still not come to. Nothing to do now but wait for her to wake.
MARY:
Thank you, Miss Strallan. We can’t take her to hospital, so I don’t know what we’d have done without you.
VIOLET:
It was the least I could do. After what she went through for me… for all of us.
MARY:
Please don’t tell anyone what’s happened here— not even that the Ripper is dead. Mrs. Hawking’s life could depend on it.
VIOLET:
You can count on me. God bless her, and you.
NATHANIEL:
Take care of yourself, Violet. Please.
(VIOLET exits. MARY pours brandy and offers NATHANIEL one, but he declines.)
MARY:
Perhaps you ought to go home too. Who knows how long it will be before she wakes?
NATHANIEL:
I couldn’t; I want to be here when she does. (Sighing) I suppose that’s always my trouble, isn’t it? I always want to be here. Even when there’s nothing I can do.
MARY:
We’ve got her this far. But the rest she’ll have to do on her own.
NATHANIEL:
Of course. But she’s strong. God, she’s strong as an ox. To still beat the bastard with a wound like that! What a warrior. Can you believe it?
MARY:
Nothing about this surprises me. She would have done it to Frost to save you. And perhaps we should have let her. But… I don’t think I could bear for it to always be this way.
NATHANIEL:
I don’t know how else we could have finished this. But I couldn’t bear it either. The costs are all too high.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
She was never like anyone else I ever knew. From the time I was a boy, she didn’t act, or talk, or even move like anyone else— the way she stalked like a panther, or else glided on ballet steps. Even when I knew nothing else about her… that I could always see.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
She was expecting when I met her. I don’t know why I thought of that. I was… eight or nine, I think. Uncle was just returning from abroad, and he brought her home for the first time. To meet the family, and to have the baby. How strange it is, to think of her that way now.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
Oh, God, Mary. What if the worst should happen?
MARY:
Don’t think about that now.
NATHANIEL:
I can’t stop thinking of it.
MARY:
She’ll be all right. She must be. The last time I spoke to her… she was so angry, so hurt. Said I ought to betray her all at a shot, instead of over the years by inches. Truly… she was horrid. And I told her. I told her… how hard she made it to love her. And how I could not bear the thought of one day becoming like her.
NATHANIEL:
Oh, Mary.
MARY:
I said it because I was angry… and because it was true. She’s been everything for me. How can we do this to one another? That can’t be the last thing we ever say.
(Enter MRS. HAWKING.)
NATHANIEL:
Madam! Oh, thank God!
MARY:
You ought to be in bed, you must have rest!
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
Madam? Are you—?
MRS. HAWKING:
Are you still here?
MARY:
I— I beg your pardon?
MRS. HAWKING:
I’d thought you’d have gone off with your policeman by now.
MARY:
Madam— I— I was frightened for you! I thought you might never wake— I wanted to be here!
NATHANIEL:
Madam, what’s come over you?
MARY:
How can you be so cold?
MRS. HAWKING:
Cold as I must be.
MARY:
Of course. You’re a hero. Not a saint.
MRS. HAWKING:
I know where your loyalty lies. Let us make a clean cut of things, for all our sakes.
NATHANIEL:
Auntie, don’t do this. You’ve been through a terrible thing—
MRS. HAWKING:
I’ll have no more of this.
(Pause.)
MARY:
Everything I am, I am because of you. Without you, who would I be?
(Pause.)
MARY:
I never thanked you. Not properly, for everything you’ve done. You have led me and taught me and laid open to me the world. You gave me my life, as surely as my own mother. And I will thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart, until the day I die.
(Pause.)
MARY:
Mrs. Hawking, I’ll be handing in my notice.
NATHANIEL:
Mary, no!
MRS. HAWKING:
Very well.
NATHANIEL:
Please, don’t do this!
MRS. HAWKING:
You’ll be paid through the end of the month. We’ll see you have an excellent character.
NATHANIEL:
You can’t be serious! Please, Mary—!
MARY:
Nathaniel! Please. It’s done.
(Pause. MARY and NATHANIEL embrace, then MARY goes to the door.)
MARY:
God bless you. The both of you.
(MARY exits.)
MRS. HAWKING:
Well, then. Let’s have it.
NATHANIEL:
How could you?
MRS. HAWKING:
It was already done, Nathaniel! She knew what she wanted. And clearly it wasn’t this. I suppose you’ll be after me to find a new maid.
NATHANIEL:
Are you mad? How can you be the most brilliant person I know and yet be such a fool?
MRS. HAWKING:
You know who I am. And if you don’t like it, you can walk out that door with her. I’ve always preferred to be alone.
NATHANIEL:
Yes. That’s what you want. After eight years, that’s what this all has been coming to.
MRS. HAWKING:
I swear to Christ, Nathaniel—
NATHANIEL:
Go to bed. Before you burst your stitches and bleed out on the carpet.
MRS. HAWKING:
How dare you— ah!
(She collapses in on herself with the pain.)
NATHANIEL:
No— not another word, not another breath. I’ve had quite enough for eight years— enough for a life. Now you must go to bloody bed.
(NATHANIEL goes to help her up.)
NATHANIEL:
I’ll be here when you wake. I don’t want you to be alone when you realize just what it is you’ve done.
Scene 2.7
(The church before the wedding. NATHANIEL helps ARTHUR with his cravat.)
ARTHUR:
Bloody lot of bother, these things.
NATHANIEL:
It’s worth the knowing, let me tell you; I learned that the hard way.
ARTHUR:
Hope you know how grateful we are, for pulling all this together for us.
NATHANIEL:
Think nothing of it. If you’re going to get me in a Catholic church, you can bet I’ll see something’s done right.
(Enter CLARA.)
CLARA:
Just a few minutes to curtain. And how’ve we done here?
NATHANIEL:
You’d think that cravat was a hangman’s noose, but all’s well that end’s well.
CLARA:
Bearing up, then?
ARTHUR:
I’ve gone on raids with less of the collywobbles.
CLARA:
Well, that’s to be expected. Did you really propose over an arrest report?
ARTHUR:
Oh, go on.
NATHANIEL:
For God’s sake, man, have I taught you nothing?
ARTHUR:
More than you might think.
(He tosses a ring to NATHANIEL.)
ARTHUR:
My mother brought it down with her from Birmingham. Wanted to start things off right. Seeing as so much is about to change.
CLARA:
I think it will do you good— you and Mary both. And you shall see America!
ARTHUR:
Heavens, never thought we would. Do you think it’s true they drown everything in cheese and tomato sauce there?
CLARA:
We can only hope not! But you shall take it by storm, I’m sure.
ARTHUR:
Still, I know she’s giving up quite a lot.
NATHANIEL:
She’s done what she had to do. You can trust that.
ARTHUR:
So much uncertain, though. New job, new country, new life. Not sure how we’ll manage it.
CLARA:
Why, that’s easy. Together.
(CLARA glances down the hall.)
CLARA:
Now you’d best get to your place. Before you spoil the surprise!
(ARTHUR exits.)
NATHANIEL:
Have you had a moment to go out there? Did you happen to see…?
CLARA:
I did. And the answer’s no, Nathaniel. I’m sorry. Can you believe the gall? Today of all days—
NATHANIEL:
Darling? Not today, please.
(MARY enters in her wedding gown.)
CLARA:
I’d like to say I outdid myself. But truly… I’m always this good. Good luck.
(CLARA hands her her bouquet and exits.)
NATHANIEL:
Well, my dear. Look at you.
MARY:
It was all Clara’s doing. Thank heaven, I’m rubbish at this sort of thing.
NATHANIEL:
You shall be in proper company, then. But you needn’t worry; he hasn’t bolted, and I turned him out.
MARY:
You’ve turned all this out, you and Clara. You really needn’t have gone to such trouble.
NATHANIEL:
Of course we did. All this, well, it’s my send off. Because you’ll be missed. More than any of us can say.
MARY:
Nathaniel, I must ask… did she come? Is she here?
NATHANIEL:
No. No, she didn’t. Mary, I’m so sorry.
MARY:
Please, it’s all right. We said we wouldn’t do this today.
NATHANIEL:
It’s only that… you’re leaving. Sailing off across an ocean. It’s just all of a sudden struck me. What will I do?
MARY:
Oh, Nathaniel.
NATHANIEL:
I’m afraid I’m done for. We’ve become quite a team, and now what? Who will deliver that strong right cross when the ruffians close in? Without you at my back, I’ll have a trouncing within the week.
MARY:
You handle yourself better than you think.
NATHANIEL:
Well, then… what about the rest of it? Who’s going to bake those lovely little buns with the water icing? Who else will remember to have the wassail for the carolers at Christmas? And… who will I talk to after a mission, about all we’ve done? What will I do?
MARY:
I’ll write. I’ll write every week, and you’ll write me back. You will tell me everything, won’t you?
NATHANIEL:
I’ll drown you in foolscap. Even an ocean away, you won’t be able to shut me up.
(Pause.)
NATHANIEL:
I really am so happy for you, and your grand adventure ahead. But… you will miss me, won’t you?
MARY:
My dear Nathaniel. I will miss you every moment. Everything we’ve been through these last eight years… the cases, the struggle, and everything we’ve learned… if I travel the world and see all there is to see, nothing shall touch what we’ve done together.
NATHANIEL:
There’s nobody I’d rather have served with, Mary. Nobody.
MARY:
Nor I. And blast it, I like you! I like the way you fuss over your suits, and grumble over the cricket scores. And how you make fun of yourself. And how you never give up. On anyone or anything, ever.
NATHANIEL:
You… you don’t fault me for it? Even when… perhaps I should?
MARY:
It’s the best thing about you.
(NATHANIEL tears up.)
MARY:
Oh, you said you wouldn’t cry.
NATHANIEL:
I say a bloody lot of things!
(The wedding march begins.)
NATHANIEL:
I do believe that’s our cue. Just in time, before I become truly un-English.
MARY:
Shall I do all right, then?
NATHANIEL:
You always do. May I kiss the bride?
(NATHANIEL kisses her, then MARY takes his arm.)
MARY:
Once more into the breach.
(They march.)
Photos by Daniel Fox.
