Free Dust and Shadow by Lyndsay Faye Page A

the needs of its lowest classes, Mr. Holmes, I do not know what the world will come to in the end. Why, if one considers the wealth—”
    “I have no doubt but that, given free rein, you would do much to solve the problems of humanity at large, Mr. Lusk,” Holmes interjected smoothly. “However, I appear before you in regards to specifics. Another tragedy occurred this morning, near Spitalfields Market.”
    Mr. Lusk appeared genuinely distressed. “You cannot mean there has been another murder?”
    “Early this morning, in fact, at twenty-nine Hanbury Street. The circumstances surrounding the killings are worsening.”
    “You shock me, Mr. Holmes. I am afraid almost to pose the question, but how can that be possible?”
    Holmes briefly recounted the particulars of our morning’s investigation. Mr. Lusk’s eyes grew ever more large, but when my friend had concluded the deplorable tale, he quickly absorbed the facts laid before him.
    “So,” he stated firmly, “what are we to do about it? I am not a manto stand idly by with such a ruthless fiend at large. It is against the very fabric of the social contract. You shall direct me, Mr. Holmes. What is to be done?”
    Holmes’s pale countenance gained a touch of colour at this remark, and he shot me a look of triumph. “I knew you could be counted upon, Mr. Lusk. I require men of action, and you have not disappointed me. Mr. Lusk, you must without any hesitation whatsoever form a committee.”
    “A committee?” queried the startled businessman.
    “I require you to pluralize yourself, Mr. Lusk. Find others like you, who are horrified by these crimes and wish to put an end to them. In addition to our intrepid constables, I need a band of plainclothesmen to patrol the streets and report their findings directly to me.”
    “I see, I see,” our host replied eagerly. “We shall man Whitechapel with organized citizens whose only thought is to extend the arm of British law to the slums. By Jove, but Susannah would have supported this! That ruffian Sir Charles Warren * has trodden upon the poor with the approbation of the middle class for long enough. This committee will balance the scales of justice. It will serve the women whose only crime has been to suffer—”
    “Those are precisely our thoughts, Mr. Lusk,” I interrupted him. Holmes nudged my arm in silent gratitude.
    George Lusk, who was nodding vigourously, an action which caused him rather to resemble an active sea lion, began to pace the carpet with the decisive step of the self-made man. “I shall call upon Federov, that is clear,” he said, ticking candidates off on his left hand. “Harris and Minsk will be great assets, as will Jacobson, Abrams, and Stone.”
    Holmes laughed, that staccato exclamation which only emerged when he was both amused and gratified. “Mr. Lusk, the Doctor and I shall leave you to devise a list as you best see fit. I propose you assemble your candidates, present the plan, and in due course find yourself their natural and apposite leader.”
    “I shall call upon them at once! It may take me a matter of days to fully sort out our committee, Mr. Holmes, but once formed, you may be absolutely certain of our devotion to your cause.”
    We took our leave, and Mr. Lusk bade us farewell, clasping our hands and assuring Holmes in fine terms of his enthusiasm. We found ourselves out of doors once more on the quiet, sun-dappled street, with nothing to distract us from the unholy spectacle we had witnessed early that morning. I could tell from his measured tread that Holmes’s mood was withdrawn as we descended the steps, and the set of his shoulders said more than words how very much our experience had affected him.
    “Your plan seems to imply you fear more killings.”
    “Let us hope that my fears are outstripping the facts.”
    “They never have, in my experience,” I pointed out.
    “Then I should be most gratified if this were the first time.”
    “Engaging Mr. Lusk was an