Chapter Text
Sallie came in early afternoon and Gudgett spottet her right away. She looked around, but couldn't possibly see him in the busy station. Gudgett saw with delight that she looked a little more groomed and dressed up than the night before. She still wore shades of brown and gray, but the cut of the dress was more fitted and the fabric looked more expensive, with a delicate pattern woven into it. Her hat was fashionably cocked and was decorated with several dark red flowers made from fabric.
Scotland Yard was very busy on any day and he maneuverd around the desks, officers and visitors to get to her. "Ah, Miss Crane, I have been waiting for you", he greeted and offered her is arm. She looked a little surprised, linked her arm with his and he guided her to his desk. He pulled up a chair for her so that she would sit next to the desk, not opposite, so that he could better hear her over the buzz of the station and sat down.
"How have you been, Miss Crane? Has your voice recovered?", he asked.
"It still hurts, but it's not so bad", she said with her still rough voice and cleared her throat. She looked at him with her big, brown eyes, expecting him to talk.
He briefly forgot what he wanted to ask, he coughed and began shuffling through his papers to avoid a strange silence. He was a little more nervous than he liked to admit to himself. Once he realized that he was not even searching for any particular sheet on his desk and the forms for witness-reports actually were in the top drawer of his desk . He and put it in his typewriter. He should really have prepared this, but he somehow forgot, despite his anticipation of her visit. He typed her name and the date in the form. "There, all set." He looked back at her and and she was still looking at him. "Uhm, so tell me what you did prior to the incident?" he asked and put his fingers on the keys.
"I was working nearby.", she suddenly looked really unhappy and her cheeks reddened. "I, well, I play the piano in a drinking hall." She held her chin up and looked at Gudgett as if to check his reaction to that. He still wasn't sure what to think about that. No honorable women would have to take that job. Young girls from poorer family usually work as maids in the houses of richer folk until they where married, or on their family property or even a factory. But a drinking hall? Those establishments usually had small stages and played vulgar little skits or songs to keep the patrons busy and sell more expensive drinks. What would a women do there? Sitting in bars with drinking men, wearing flashy costumes and animating the men to drink, and sometimes even more... But she didn't seem that outgoing, like she could just chat with any random drunk. He must have shown his thoughts, because she continued in a sour tone: "Only play the piano, it keeps me fed and I have a roof over my head. However I was done for the day and went home, just like usual. When he struck me from behind, I didn't realize that someone was following me. I was hit by...something, in the side, and fell down. It happened so fast. Than he grabbed my hair and picked me up, that man was really, really strong. I tried to defend myself, even kicked him, but he just picked me up and began to choke me. And I don't really recall anything clear until he was gone and...you were there". She spoke the last sentence softly and looked up at him with a sigh. He finished typing. She seemed exhausted from speaking and coughed. He couldn't help but feel very sorry for her, she looked really small and miserable in her chair. She looked away and asked: "Is there more you need to know?" and she touched her throat again and put her hand back on her lap.
In an attempt to comfort her he turned towards her and took er hand in his. She flinched and looked away, but she didn't move her hand. "I will find out who did this and catch him. I promise." She turned her head and looked and him, looked him straight in the eyes and he felt his heart speed up. "Thank you", she said. He wished he could have stayed like that a little longer, but they where in a busy policestation and he didn't think it was appropriate. He let go of her hand and said "I am sorry, where are my manners? Do you want something to drink, perhaps some tea?"
"That would be lovely, thank you" she rasped.
When he came back she seemed to have relaxed a bit. He put the tea on the desk and began shifting through his files again. "Miss Crane, do you know a man with this particular style of tattoo?" he asked here and showed her the photograph of John Does hand, depicting details of the octupusarms stretching out over his fingers. Next to the hand was a ruler for scale. She looked at it and seemed confused. Shaking her head she answered "No, I have never seen something like that. Why, do you think it might be him?" Hopefully not, since I dragged his body out oft he thames that day, he thought. Instead he said: " Just a possibility, I need to check every lead." He folded his hands and chose his words very carefully. "Considering your...work in the drinking hall, do you have any fans, men that have showed interest? That you rejected, perhaps?"
She appeared uneasy at that question, but answered: "No, I am not working there like...that. You must imagine: I sit on the side of the stage, playing the piano. People rarely even see me, they simply watch the show. There are way prettier women dancing.", she said.
"But you can be seen from the tables?", Gudgett wanted to know.
She looked irritated. "Yes, Sargeant, I can be seen. So?"
How to say this...she seemed easily offended and Gudgett risked that she just closed down if he asked to harshly. He liked to think that he was a charming man, so he smiled his best smile, wich tendet to be a little one-sided, and asked further: "Well, if anyone there can see you, there is always the chance of a secret admirer. A lot of men, even those who frequent such an establishment, prefer the charms of a more modest woman." She looked a little confused, unsure if this was a compliment or an accusation. She didn't answer, taking a sip of her tea instead.
"Even sitting on the sidelines, a beautiful woman will be seen as such." At his remark, her cheeks turned red and she seemed to have problems swallowing her tea. She quickly put the cup down and coughed nervously. "I know of no such man." She said and began fumbling at her skirts, looking down at her hands.
Gudgett wasn't sure if she was lying or just uncomfortable with compliments. He hoped that she was just shy. But he needed to ask her more.
"Say someone in the crowd was a secret admirer, could you have upset him with something? Rejecting flowers or chocolates sent to you? Or perhaps he found out about another man?" he tried to ask as calm and neutral as possible.
"No, nothing. There is no man", she said with a cold voice. This didn't seem to be her favorite subject. Moving on.
"Or can you think of someone else who might want to harm you? A jealous wife or colleague? Do you owe someone money?"
"No, I can't think of anyone like that. I don't go around offending people, you know? I take care of my auntie, I go to work, I go to the market. I play piano. That's my life. We may not be rich but we make ends meet.", she said. She didn't look at Gudgett anymore and pressed her lips together, but seemed to calm herself. "Anything else?", she asked eventually.
Oh no, he seemed to upset her somehow. Women are like minefields. But he didn't want to let her go on such a note.
"Not at the moment, no. But be sure to come by if you think of someone." he said. He wanted to say more but she was already getting up, so he stood up as well.
"I am sorry, I need to ask all these questions. It's my job as a policeofficer. I just want to help you." He said and saw with relief that her features relaxed and she seemed soothed.
"I know, I didn't want to seem ungrateful. Goodbye, Sargeant." She turned and walked out of the station quickly, leaving a confused Gudgett behind.