Chapter 18
The next person in Dublin to be attacked was not as fortunate as Mary Sommers had been. She was a young prostitute and was found on Kennedy Road with her neck savaged and wads of flesh missing from her cheeks and arms. She had massive bruising and was cut and scratched all over, her clothes torn to pieces.
She was found by a butcher and his son who were going to open their shop early for the busy docking day ahead in Temple Bar. Her name was Jill, and she was well known in the local area as being well meaning and kind. It was a horrible thing for those two to come across on that freezing morning.
The rumour mill went into convulsions, doing cartwheels and somersaults to link this girl to Olocher. Olocher had been a customer of hers many times, some said. Others said she was one of the women he had beaten before and that he had come back to finish the job. Still more said that she had been a secret witness at the trial and had been responsible for Thomas Olocher going to jail, just the same as Mary Sommers.
Though none of these things were true, they all gained traction in different quarters. The one true thing was that she had been killed in a savage manner, with teeth marks and hoof marks on her body that fit with the other attacks by the Dolocher.
Kate knew her and had worked some nights alongside her. They were not close at all, but they were friendly. Kate was terribly upset when she heard what had happened and especially the lurid version of her physical state when found, but she quickly came to realise that she was also upset at the thought that it could just have easily been her. Streetwalkers had by definition to walk the streets, and oftentimes they were alone. On weekend nights she worked in the brothel, and she felt safe there, but the rest of the week, she relied on casual trade for survival. She had to walk the streets if she wanted to eat.
She could try her luck during the day, but it was hard to get any customers then. Hers was a profession that required the cover of darkness and the evenings of men spent in taverns. There were some, of course, who used her during the day here and there, but it was hard to find a place to work, and the chances of being caught in the act multiplied a hundredfold.
Kate left her home at about eleven and went to the market for food. She bought a few carrots and parsnips but thought better of buying anything more. She had very little money, but she always liked to have something to her name.
As she was buying her vegetables, she spoke to the seller. This is where she heard about the latest attack. At this point, she didn’t know who the victim was but she wondered if she might know them.
“A girl who lives with me was attacked by the Dolocher just last week,” the seller said.
“Really! Mary Sommers?” Kate said.
“Yes, a friend of her aunt, who Thomas Olocher killed, lives with us, and she brought her in.”
“How is she?”
“Better, but she is very scared now of everything, especially after dark.”
“You can understand that,” Kate said nodding.
“She’ll have some scars to show for it, but she’ll be alright in the long run.”
“There’ll be a lot afraid to leave their doors in the evenings now.”
“I know I won’t be going anywhere myself,” the seller said.
“Does Mary Sommers remember anything more about her attacker?”
“No, I don’t think so. It happened to her so fast, she said, and she gets upset when she talks about it. She just says it was wild, whatever it was, and like nothing she had ever seen before.”
Kate shuddered at the thought of this creature pouncing on her. As she looked over the food arrayed all around her and felt the lightness of her purse, she thought to ask the seller, “Do you know anyone decent who’s looking to share a room?”
“Things tight?”
“Always.” Kate smiled.
“I’ll keep my ear out for you.”
“Thanks.”
Kate was turning to leave when the seller called her back. She handed Kate a few mouldy-looking carrots and said,
“Here, they don’t look like much, but there will be some decent orange in there once you cut away the outside.”
“Thank you,” Kate said, taking them.
“Don’t worry about it. No one was going to buy those ones today.” And she laughed a loud cackle that seemed to disappear into the market noises all around them.
As she looked to follow this sound with her eyes, Kate noticed the new ships queued along the Liffey. It was going to be busy for her trade for the next few nights—at least that was something to be thankful for. She decided she would go to the brothel and see if she could work for a day or two in the hope of staying off the streets.
She walked straight to the brothel in Hell and went to the lady of the house, Melanie (a French madam who had been much sought after by the gentlemen of the upper classes when she first arrived almost twenty years ago—this was how she had bought the large house in the first place). Kate asked to work there that night, telling her about the amount of ships in the Liffey waiting to unload.
“You are a good girl for me and popular with some of my finest clients, but I am full until the weekend, dearie,” Melanie said with a warm smile on her face. Kate was dismayed, and it must have shown on her face. “Call in if you want, and if any of the girls are unwell or not here, I will put you first on the list for replacement.”
“Thank you, Mel,” Kate said, and she smiled at the madam; the girls were always getting sick or were not able to work because a client had beaten them up, or some other disaster had happened. She was sure to get some work here over the next few days, and that would lessen her need to be on the streets.
“For future reference, Katie,” Melanie said as she was leaving, “I have the logs from the docks at all times. I am always well aware as to how many ships are coming and going.”
That night she called in, but there was nothing for her. She was surprised that everyone had shown up; she left and wondered what to do. She didn’t want to prowl the alleyways and streets of the Liberties tonight, nor did she fancy a walk anywhere near Francis Street or up at New Market. She went down to Temple Bar to see what she could get.
On cold nights like these, her profession got on top of her and depressed her. When she was in a bed at the brothel, sleeping with men for money, it didn’t seem all that bad, but when all she was doing was trudging around in the rain and sucking sailors for the price of her next bowl of soup, she could cry at her existence.
The docks were busy, and she was taken on board a couple of ships for a few minutes at a time, but she wasn't earning much. It seemed even worse to her now that she had seen firsthand the opulence that people like Mr. Edwards lived in. She remembered the bed and the bathroom and the carpet beneath her feet. At times, she fantasised about a gentleman taking her in. She was not so naive that she ever thought any would ever marry her, but she dreamt of just living in the same house as one of them and doing what they wanted of her when required.
When the dock quietened down somewhat, she began to be afraid of the creaking of the ropes that moored the ships and the billowing in the loosely wrapped sails when a nasty wind whipped up. Each time, the sound would frighten her; it was actually a very loud sound when there wasn’t much for it to compete with. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and her customer base was shrinking, so she went home in the hope that tomorrow would be a better day.
She went to the market the following day again, not to buy anything but just to pass the time. She had been home early and had gone to bed much earlier than usual, and so she was bored by midmorning, which she usually slept until.
As she browsed the stalls at the market, she heard the vegetable seller from the day before call her over. “Are you still interested in having someone share your room?”
“Yes.”
“The very girl I told you about yesterday is looking to move out of our place. She says there are too many of us now.”
“Mary Sommers!” Kate said in surpr
ise.
“Well, not exactly. Sarah is who I was talking about. She was a friend of Mary’s aunt.”
“Oh.”
“But to be honest, I’d say she will want to take Mary with her.”
Kate thought about this for a moment. She had heard such terrible things about the Dolocher, and she didn’t want to invite that beast to her doorstep, but she was desperate now. Thin soups were all she was eating lately, and she was making less and less at work what with all the country girls who were flocking to the city. She reasoned with herself that this monster was attacking people at night in dark streets and not going into houses. If he wanted Mary Sommers, he could have her; Kate just wouldn’t go anywhere outside the house with her. There was no need for them to be friends. All Kate really wanted was the money she would get from these two new housemates.
“Well, I need all the money I can get,” Kate said. And thus, a few days later, Sarah and Mary moved in to her small room on the second floor of a building on Skipper’s Lane.