“No idea. I think he has the wrong Matthew Corbett in mind. I’m sure there are several in London.”

“True,” she answered, eating her biscuit with small little bites. “For a man who seems so … shall I say … unimposing, you made quick work of that bodyguard. And you sure don’t seem the type who would run with the Broodies. When I saw that tattoo on your hand it was nearly the shock of my life.”

“It was nearly the end of mine,” said Matthew.

Elizabeth was quiet for a while. She finished her biscuit and ate a few slices of apple. She looked out the porthole at the passing snowscape, for by this time they had left the confines of London and were moving through the small villages that stood just to the west of the great city.

“Are you afraid of me?” she suddenly asked.

“Yes,” Matthew said. No use to mince words on that question.

“I can feel it. I could always feel fear. I thought I felt it in the parlor, but I reasoned it was the tension of the group. I presume it was coming from you and your associate.”

“From me, most certainly.” He gave her a wan smile which she did not return.

“You’re fearful in the presence of the Spitalfields Murderess?”

“I’m most concerned that RakeHell Lizzie not make a return appearance.”

“Ah,” she said, with a nod. “That one. I hate her and I love her. She is my worst enemy and my greatest friend. She is—”

“A different part of you?” Matthew asked.

“A part hidden in most people. In me, she comes to the surface now and again and takes control.” She motioned with a lift of her chin toward the sleeping Firebaugh. “He gave me the treatment.”

“The treatment? Of what kind?”

“In the asylum. Where he brought me when he took me out of prison. He gave me the drug treatment to keep Lizzie quiet, but it didn’t work the way he wished. Or perhaps it did, because I believe he enjoyed the fact that once Samson took me out I would have to keep taking the drug or she would come out when she was least expected. And Samson paid quite a bit for that drug.”

“I see.” Matthew also saw how Lash must’ve decided on Firebaugh to be involved in this affair. “But … the drug. How often do you take it?”

“I drink it twice a day,” she said. “I took it early this morning, just before I let you through the door. My next sip would be due around six o’clock in the evening. It remains to be seen if I’ll get it or not.”

“It helps you keep her at bay?”