Whitechapel (20 page)

Bruiser was taken back to The Street and placed in a dark and damp kennel in the yard. He lay down once inside and had been led there without complaint and lay motionless staring at the kennel door. He didn’t even move when two bowls one containing tripe and the other of water where placed in there with him.

***

Wednesday 25th September. It hadn’t been a very positive few days for Abberline and his team. Five days of plain clothes patrols had produced no leads or entrapped anyone in anyway. It had just left Robert and Del cold and bored and Del on occasions in fear of being severely beaten when he struggled to fend off ‘business’ when he was pressed. Robert was frustrated as it hadn’t seen Mary even in passing over the weekend so decided during the day to go to see her. Wynne Baxter had closed the inquests for both Mary Nichols and Annie Chapman with the verdicts of unlawful killing but had been outspoken at each. At Nichols he criticised the police for not noting her abdominal injuries at the scene, an issue Abberline felt was unfair as fault lay with the initial examination by the divisional surgeon, and at Chapman’s inquest expounded an outlandish theory. He stated that the killings were motivated by a request from an American doctor offering large sums of money for uterine specimens to accompany a monograph he was researching. These issues were the very next day splashed across the front pages of all the newspapers, whilst the tragic death of Ralph hadn’t even made the first few pages of the papers.

Although not happy with the American theory on the face of it, it did give Abberline another line of enquiry. John Pizer had been cleared of any connection to the murders and was seeking compensation from the police for his detention, so as a result he kept quiet about being robbed. To top off an unhappy day the main C.I.D office at Scotland Yard had received a letter dated the 24th September. It had been couriered to Abberline immediately. It read:

Dear Sir,

I do wish to give myself up I am in misery with nightmare I am the man who committed all these murders in the last six months my name is so and so I am a horse slaughterer and work at……
I have found the woman I wanted that is chapman and I done what called slautered her but if any one comes I will surrender but I am not going to walk to the station by myself so I am yours truly keep the Boro road clear or I might take a trip there. this is the knife that I done these murders with it is a small handle with a large long blade sharp on both sides

Abberline, Godley and Bill Thick were the only ones in the office and passed the letter around each taking a great deal of time to study it before conversation around it began.

“Well, I think it is a load of bollocks,” stated Abberline quite categorically

“I must say I think I agree, Fred,” said Godley, he continued addressing Bill Thick. “What do you reckon, Bill?”

“Well, by the post mark it is from south of the Thames and it does refer to Borough High Street. It tells us nothing at all. It strikes me it is from a sad attention seeking individual trying to complicate matters further for us.”

“Yes, I agree, Bill. George make sure the courier goes back to The Yard with strict instructions not to breathe a word of this to the press. If they do we’ll have a rush of these bastard things on our hands. We haven’t got time to deal with this kind of rubbish.”

Godley left the room to seek out the courier whilst Abberline studied the letter again. Although he considered it a fraud was he missing anything? He pondered the matter of a hot cup of tea.

***

Meanwhile Robert had managed to meet Mary at Osgood’s Cafe in Lamb Street in the heart of Spitalfields Flower market. It was a homely little East End cafe that essentially catered for the flower market workers but also did a healthy regular trade from those passing through. Robert knew these premises with their characteristic gingham table clothes and steamed up condensated windows. He frequently used it when on his uniform local beat. They knew him too and at this time of the day he wasn’t in disguise and sported a clean appearance to meet with Mary. They sat together enjoying tea and eggs and bacon while they talked.

“Robbie, where have you been, I haven’t seen you properly since our day on the lake, darlin’?”

“Well, with another murder I’ve been seconded to the inquiry under Abberline with Del. We’ve got to do some real bad hours until it’s done.”

“How come I haven’t seen you walking around then?” This response pleased Robert as it meant that there was some mileage in the disguises.

“Look, you’ve got to keep it a secret, but me and Del are in plain clothes doing a special patrol to try to catch whoever it is so I can’t speak to you when I am. Anyway, what are you doing out and about, I thought you was moving in with me?”

“Look, I may not be selling myself ‘cos of saving me for you now, but I am allowed to socialise with my friends. So I’m out and about at The Ten Bells and The Britannia to see them that’s all. I’m packed to leave so give me the word and a key and I’ll be round.” Robert dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a door key and passed it to her.

“Here, my landlady is expecting you. Make yourself at home and I’ll be in during the early hours. What you doing with Miller’s Court?”

“I’m keeping on for my friends for a few weeks; they can use it as a bolt hole if they’re stuck.”

“All right, but watch it. We don’t know who he is, what he looks like and how he fools people to go with him. Tell your friends to be careful and if the have any bad encounters find a copper and report it.”

“Robert,” she looked down into her tea psyching herself up for a question she didn’t really want the answer to, but curiosity had got the better of her to ask it. “What did he do to Mary and Annie? We’ve heard it was horrible, real savage. Robert paused before answering and looked her in the eye to answer.

“Look, they’ve said a lot in the papers and much of it is true, but it’s like this and this should make all the girls take care so listen as I’m repeating none of it again. He cut their throats, and I mean deep, right to the bone,” she looked at him aghast and held her right hand across the top of her chest fingers spread wide. “Then he went to work on them, he cut their stomachs open and pulled out some of their innards and took some as it hasn’t been all there once they were examined.” He was about to continue but she put her hand up in a clear gesture of not wanting to know any more. She shook her head and was a pulling an expression of sheer revulsion. They sat silent for some minutes him looking out of the window and her staring into her tea as if in shock.

“I will take care; we should leave London though, now, let’s go and start afresh.” There was emotion in her voice, she needed once for all to go but didn’t want him to know how they could afford to go until he agreed to leave because of the origin of her potential wealth. Robert took her hands in his across the table and thought carefully about his answer.

“I promise we will when all this stops, which I hope it already has. This is my community and I want to ensure the police get him, them or whoever before I am prepared to leave. When the job is done we can go and I’ll be a constable elsewhere and you can be the mother of my children.” She looked him in the eye with tears of happiness, never believing this sort of good fortune may come her way. She respected his words and squeezed his hands in reassurance of his words unable to speak through emotion.

“And when I have the money I shall properly propose with a ring. Now, another tea, love?” She smiled and stroked his hand across the table bringing a contented grin to Robert’s face and a warm feeling in his heart. They drank more tea and spent a very easy time together in Osgood’s as the safe daylight world passed them by outside.

***

Severin Klosowski had settled himself into East End life very quickly having fallen on his feet with a ready made business. He had previously worked in West India Dock Road as a barber and now came across a barber’s shop in Cable Street, E.1 which had closed down the week before he arrived. He rented it immediately and moved in to set up and found all the existing hairdressing equipment still there. This meant a significant financial saving to him and a loss to the typically greedy landlord who cared not for the condition of the premises so didn’t realise that there had been something left there he could have sold for profit. He had a new sign made up and hung outside to try to attract a variety of clientele and not just the Poles or the Jews. Ironically it read ‘George Chapman, Barber.’ A sick irony he would choose the surname that was shared by his East End victim. To him the name meant nothing until he later bothered with a copy of ‘The Star’ and discovered he had chosen the same name as his victim. It would help too in disguising his background and his previous time in the East End. With his limited command of written English he was able to spell it having also now read it.

He found that within days of being open his initial slow start lead to a regular turnover of patrons by the middle of his second week, a factor that was no doubt assisted by his ability to price his services low following his lack of essential capital outlay. The business would help establish him as a respectable member of the local community in time.

***

Godley returned to the office not in a good humour. Those in the incident room could see it in his demeanour and the thunderous look of anger on his face. “Fred, you won’t bloody believe this.”

“Believe what? Surely you must have got him or sent someone to get a message to him?” replied Abberline.

“We didn’t know it but this was actually the letter’s second port of call, The Yard in their wisdom had decided to send a copy to the Central News Agency too, so tomorrow it’s going to be plastered across all the dailies, and we’ll end up with a flock of bloody hoax mail everyday!”

Abberline curled his lips and considered a reply carefully and then spoke in a very calculated tone. A very positive slant regarding this development had struck him.

“Yes, George, you’re right, but what if it motivates this killer, whoever he maybe to try to goad us publicly. What if he decides to communicate to taunt us by letter? What if in his boldness and arrogance he slips up, hints in the letters, consistent post marks, all things that might come back and haunt him. There could be a positive in this.”

Godley looked around the room. Everyone present looked to be carefully considering Abberline’s words and began looking at each other and nodding. He could be more right than anyone may ever know.

“Fred, that is a bloody brilliant thought, bloody brilliant. Do you really think it might smoke him out?”

“Only time will tell, George, only time will tell. I don’t for one minute believe that the decision made at The Yard had that in mind, but we have to be prepared to make the best of a poor situation. Now we need to plan tonight’s plain clothes patrols. Look in lads and listen.” Abberline then proceeded to deliver a briefing on where they would post everyone and what new information had come through from the constables on the beat. Robert and Del had now turned up and listened intently to their nights planned activity.

The Central News Agency at number 5 New Bridge Street had been founded by William Saunders MP. He had established it and made it into a limited liability company whose business was quite literally news and, as a result of the reputation it had developed, was always the first to gain the scoop stories to sell off to the newspaper publishers. Their most famous example was when the CNA received the news of the fall of Khartoum and the death of General Gordon twelve hours before anyone else. It telegraphed important events, parliamentary reports, Stock exchange and market reports, law cases, racing results and other news worthy items to newspapers, exchanges clubs and news rooms. Most communications intended for general publication were forwarded to the Central News Agency by messenger or telegraph. Messenger was how they received the news from Scotland Yard of the potential murderer’s letter when courier arrived there prior to attending Commercial Street Police Station.

The positive relations between the CNA and the Police were as a direct result of links forged by John Moore the Agency’s general manger who had written to police chiefs requesting information on the murders. The police had been happy to oblige hoping that witnesses or persons with information may be encouraged to come forward so they were equally as happy to pass on the text of the letter they had received for the CNA to distribute amongst London’s news community. Each of the papers paid handsomely for it but it was inevitability The Star that paid the most so got to publish it exclusively on the morning of the 25th before anyone else; they would all be forced to publish it in their later editions.

8.p.m and the briefing had finished and the plain clothes boys were about to go out on the ground when Robert could hear a faint scratching from the kennel in the yard of The Street and went over to investigate. As he neared he could hear a faint lonely weak pining from the dog that must be inside the kennel and he began to speak to it as he approached to reassure it.

“It’s ok, doggie, it’s a friend coming to see you, don’t fret, we’ll get you home. As he looked in he was shocked to see that it was Bruiser who he knew was inseparable from Ralph. “Oh Bruiser, mate, what the hell has happened, what are you doing here? Where the hell is Ralph?” As he looked in the old good natured dog lay still with his head on his paws staring up sadly with his eyes craning upwards with an obvious look of distress. Robert could see the now dried out wound on his head. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rinsed under a tap nearby. He opened the kennel and dog lay still. He gently cleaned the wound reassuring Bruiser as he did so before shutting the door and leaving him there temporarily as he went to make enquiries.

Robert rushed in to the front office where the records of dogs lost would normally be kept and bumped into Taffy Evans as he did so who was about to go off duty, albeit very late. Knowing the old copper had been early shift he asked him if he knew anything about the dog brought in.