“I know my trade,” the blond reporter said with an icy chill in her voice, glaring at Kostenka. “And my equipment.”
Kostenka just shrugged and pretended to find the carpet utterly absorbing.
“Very well. I would suggest you go and get that equipment ready. We’ll leave the house at two A.M. If you’re not dressed for the East End and waiting in the carriage drive, we’ll leave without you. Now then, Margo, please be good enough to help them select costumes. They haven’t been into the East End. Assist Dr. Feroz with that as well. I’ll want you along, Inspector,” he glanced at Conroy Melvyn, the Scotland Yard chief inspector who’d been named head of the Ripper Watch team, “and the others can prepare the relay and recording equipment on the roof and down in the vault.”
There were grumbles, but clearly, the Ripper Watch team had grown accustomed to taking Malcolm’s orders when it came to his decisions as head guide.
“Very good. I expect you all have someplace better to be than standing about in the parlour, with your mouths hanging open.”
The assembled scholars and journalists dispersed quickly. Only Conroy Melvyn seemed to find the situation humorous. The police inspector winked at Malcolm as he strolled out in the wake of the disgruntled scholars. Then Margo was alone with Malcolm, at last.
“Margo, I’m afraid you’re not going to like what I have to say next.”
“Oh, no, Malcolm, please let me come with you!”
He grimaced. “That isn’t it. Quite the opposite, in fact.” He rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. “It’s this blasted business with Catlin. Thank God you’ve come. I’ve got to work with the Gilberts, organize some plan of attack to search for him. We’ll try the hospitals, the workhouse infirmaries, anywhere Catlin might have gone seeking medical attention.”