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"Nana?"
We turned to see a girl with a light brown ponytail peeking from behind a beaded curtain leading into the back rooms. She looked about twelve.
"Erin," Anita said. "My granddaughter." She smiled at the girl. "Done with your homework and thinking this sounds more interesting? Come get a cookie, then."
The girl took one, then Anita whispered to her, telling her she could listen from the back room, but not to disturb us.
Of the four stories Anita told us, two postulated that Jack the Ripper had been a sorcerer and the dead women were ritual sacrifices. In other words, the obvious angle, but very unlikely, she said. Brutality wasn't necessary for sacrifice, and even if a sorcerer preferred doing it that way, he'd never take the risk of performing the murder and the ritual in a public place.
The third story said the killings were done by a werewolf and were part of a territorial dispute. One werewolf had been trying to scare another out of London, and hoped the killings would do the trick. Nice theory...if you didn't think about it too much. If you're a werewolf who wants to spook a fellow wolf with the threat of exposure, why make the murders only vaguely werewolf-like? Why not just change to wolf form and make them the real deal? Whoever started this rumor knew nothing about werewolves except for their reputation as the thugs of the supernatural world--very violent and none too bright. Typical.
The last tale was apparently the most popular, with multiple variations dating from the time of Jack the Ripper himself. According to that story, Jack had been a half-demon who'd made contact with his father. Not that easy when Dad lives in a hell dimension, but I guess an enterprising son can find a way.
According to the lore, the half-demon had made a pact with his father, trading sacrifices for a boon. The nature of the boon vari
ed--invulnerability, immortality, immeasurable wealth--pretty much all the regular wishes. The demon connection, the stories claimed, explained why the killings had been so brutal and why Jack had corresponded with the media rather than commit his crimes in silence. Demons feed on chaos. A demonic sacrifice isn't about bloodletting, it's about the chaos caused by death. This, then, would have been Jack's true offering to his father--not the five lives themselves, but the fear and panic they'd caused.
"Now that one makes the most sense," she said. "Though it is, of course, almost certainly only a story."
"And not...really what we're looking for," I said.
"Well, perhaps if you put this into context for me..."
I glanced over at Jeremy. He nodded, and I told her what had happened.
For a moment, Anita just sat there, staring at me.
"Jack the Ripper's From Hell letter?" she said finally. "As a dimensional portal trigger?"
"I know it sounds preposterous--"
"No, it makes perfect sense."
She slid to the floor, then came out from behind the counter and paced to the far shelf and back, shaking her head.
"Mrs. Barrington..." Jeremy began.
"Anita, please. I'm sorry. I'm just...exasperated. I knew there was a supernatural story behind that letter. Why else would Shanahan have had it stolen? I haven't been in Toronto long. I came five years ago, when my daughter died and her husband needed help with Erin. But my reputation as a folklorist is impeccable. So, when I heard the infamous From Hell letter was here, in the collection of a man known for gathering supernatural oddities, I presented myself to young Mr. Shanahan and requested permission to see it, and learn the story behind it. He--"
Spots of color lit her cheeks and she glanced toward the back room as if remembering her granddaughter listening in.
"He was...not accommodating." She paced to the shelf and back again. "It is so frustrating. I don't know what race you young people are, and I won't ask, but I hope you don't have any such prejudices to deal with. They can make life quite intolerable at times. Sorcerers and witches--" A sharp shake of her head. "A ridiculous feud rooted in events so far back in time--" Another, sharper shake. "I'm sorry. You didn't come to hear me rage about that. But, yes, I don't doubt that the From Hell letter has a supernatural legend behind it, and that Patrick Shanahan knows all about it."
"If he does, we'll get the story from him, and we'll give it to you."
She smiled and nodded. "Thank you, dear." She turned slowly to face me. "I don't suppose--I shouldn't ask but...well, at my age, I've learned to pursue opportunities when they present themselves to me. Is there any chance I could examine that letter? Presuming you still have it..."
"We do," Jeremy said. "And when this is over, we'd be happy to show it to you. In the meantime, may we contact you if we have questions?"
"Absolutely. And perhaps, now that I know the letter's supernatural link--a portal and dimensional zombies--I might be able to dig up some more stories for you."
The first restaurant we passed had a note on the door, saying that the shop was closed due to E. coli in the city's water supply.
"E. coli?" I said. "So they know what it is? Or is that just a guess? Maybe I should call my newspaper contacts and--"
"And do what? Find out the situation is worse than we thought, giving you one more thing to worry about? Won't get the portal closed any faster."
"Clay's right," Jeremy said. "We need to keep the blinders on and move forward, however tempting it may be to stop and look around."
