Whitechapel (40 page)

“So, Robert, what do you see?”

“Well, I have drawn the cards three times and each time they are turning up the same. Not all of it will be pleasing to you.”

“Lets face it, I’m used to bad news so go ahead and tell me,” he slurped from a large bulbous brandy glass as he spoke.

“You will have no further success here. You will have to return to America where you must perform something classical to regain success and notoriety. This show will end imminently.”

“Yes, well I know that, tell me something I don’t. The rest of it sounds promising, getting away from this shitty forever pissing with rain gothic hell of a city. Anything else?” Lees paused as he stared at the last of the cards he had turned. He knew that they indicated that Mansfield’s life would not be long, but he could not tell him this. He paused and lied.

“You will never be successful in love,” he thought of this quickly on the spur of the moment knowing that Mansfield was not averse to paying for sex, and never treated any women with much respect.

“Like I said, tell me something I don’t know, Robert.” He drained the last of the generously filled brandy glass and swapped places with Lees to begin to prepare for the nights show in his final week of performances. Lees politely left, not wishing to spend too much longer at the theatre as crowds sometimes bothered him and he found the subject matter of the play somewhat distasteful.

***

Tumblety went from The Britannia to The Ten Bells to get himself a drink before returning to Graham Road. He stood at the bar waiting to order when he became aware of a dark haired, moustached young man with piercing eyes staring at him from the other end of the bar. He looked this individual up and down and realised why he seemed familiar. It was the rather odd mortuary attendant from the Louis Pasteur Hospital in Paris who had gained him a specimen. He didn’t know his name and was surprised to see the young man who began to approach him. Tumblety offered his hand and spoke to introduce himself.

“I believe we’ve met but never been introduced. My Name is Frank Townsend; I’m the American from Paris.” Klosowski took his hand and shook it firmly speaking in a heavy accent replying.

“George Chapman. Yes I remember you. Odd collection. How is it then? Need anymore?” He couldn’t recall the American’s name, but Townsend didn’t sound familiar.

“As a doctor you can never have too many, helps with diagnosis you see. How did you get that last one for me, it seemed to be from a very young woman?”

“Just a prostitute brought in dead from the Bois de Boulogne. You paid the money; I get the specimen, if you understand.” Tumblety was making eye contact as they spoke and could sense malevolence in this individual. It was an evil that he very well understood so he spoke to try to draw some more detail from Chapman.

“So if I wanted something specifically you could get it for me.” Chapman knew he was talking to someone on equal terms and replied with confidence to this question.

“For the right price, all is possible. Tell me what you want and I give you a price.” Tumblety now sensed the perfect opportunity.

“I am meeting a woman in two days time in Victoria Park. She is from a specific class and ethnic background. I’d like her specimen if you understand? Plus something else.”

“Speak, and tell you if possible and if I am interested.”

“I want her heart, it has sentimental value, you see.”

“You talk of murder. Price is high. £500 and I get you what you want.”

“You can’t do it that day, it must be subsequently. She will have a lot of money in her possession which you must find too. Now this is who it is.”

Tumblety took a tattered photograph out of his suit pocket of Mary Kelly that he had never drawn from his pocket or shown anyone before. It had been taken in their golden time together in the north of England and was a beautiful sepia portrait of her. Chapman studied the picture and gave it back. He downed his drink and spoke to Tumblety sternly.

“I have seen her around here. She lives around here. I meet you here in four days for the money after I watch the two of you in the park.”

“It’s a deal,” they shook hands as Tumblety spoke further. “Now what are you drinking, George?”

***

Tuesday 29
th
October 1.p.m; Mary Kelly loitered nervously around the boating kiosk but at least took comfort in the fact he had agreed to meet her somewhere public leaving her feeling he would be unlikely to strike at her there. It was a bright day considering the lateness of the month but there was a distinct chill in the air forcing all those out and about in the park to wrap up against the coldness it brought. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders to try to warm herself while keeping a tight hold with her arm on the small case that held the precious stones in a cheap leather bag. She wore it slung by its handles over her shoulder but resting under her arm out of sight. She eyed all those that were coming and going desperately trying to ensure she saw him approaching at the earliest opportunity so as not to give him any element of surprise. Becoming more and more restless on her feet she noted a wooden bench that was placed with its back to the boating kiosk and with the security that offered with its mainly frontal views she sat down on it.

Watching the forever changing but reduced midweek throng of humanity in front of her she initially paid no attention to a police sergeant walking in her direction. As he neared and she felt his eyes constantly falling on her, she gave him a good stare back in return which was when she noted the large flamboyant moustache he was sporting and studied the face of the sergeant in depth. In doing so she was struck with the shocking realisation that it was Tumblety. A few feet away from her he spoke, out of earshot of anyone passing by as she stood to face him.

“Hello, Mary you seemed surprised to see me,” he said with arrogance.

“Well, there’s no end to your resourcefulness. How did you get that? Did you kill him for it? Did you kill Del Lake?”

“First question, no I just gave the owner of this uniform a good beating, second question, yes I did. The son of a bitch tried to fool my friend and me as a woman. I thought he was a robber.”

“You, bastard. He was so young, doing his job and you butchered him. Now you come here like that. You are sick. I should shop you anyway.”

“Take stock, my dear. However you choose to stir things up now people will just think you are a mad woman being carted off by the local police. You could end up in one of the canals or anywhere really.” Mary could not comprehend how cunning this man really was and knew that he had her at a massive disadvantage; she resigned herself to completing their transaction.

“Show me the money then,” she demanded.

“With pleasure, madam,” he replied smugly undoing a couple of buttons on the chest of his tunic and pulling out a plain white envelope marked ‘Cootes Bank’. “You put me to a lot of trouble. Twice I have had to go to the bank to borrow money and both times because of you, so give me the goddamn jewels so I can close the loans they have made to me.” She pulled the bag from under her arm and removed the jewellery case from inside it. They stood facing each other with a mutual need between them and for a moment Tumblety felt a wave of affection wash over him for this beautiful young woman. She was genuinely different to the others he had chosen to kill with a true innocence to her and so much tragedy in her life. Some of the humanity left within him could understand her departure from Paris. The voices that so frequently troubled his mind were silent as they both reached forward to exchange their respective packages and he felt her soft touch as she took the envelope from his hand. He still had only limited use of his broken arm which was quite obvious to her as they made the exchange. She wondered what injury he had suffered. Feeling his hand she did not receive the same sensation and only had a massive feeling of fear and resentment for all the blood shed and heart ache this man had brought. Tumblety felt compelled to voice some of his feelings for her to ease some of the burden of guilt he carried and to try to verbalise the sensation of the epiphany he had just felt.

“Mary, live a long and happy life and be free,” his feelings of compassion now face to face with the second love of his life had washed away all recollection of the evil pattern of events he had set in place.

Mary was stunned by the show of humanity from someone she had come to despise and the shock of it drew her breath away leaving her unable to speak. She turned and walked briskly away from Tumblety leaving him stood alone by the boating kiosk as she made for Grove Road to get back to the heart of the East End and keep the money safe. She ripped the envelope open as she walked to find it full of the promised money which brought a sense of achievement and hope to her for the future with Robert. Reaching the exit to the park she hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take her to the London Hospital.

Tumblety still in his police uniform sat on the bench vacated by Mary and cautiously looked around him before opening the jewellery case. He undid its catch and slowly lifted the lid to expose the large diamond flanked by the surrounding smaller diamonds which brought a visible smile to his face. Two of the diamonds would be enough to settle his debts and wipe out any dependence on anything but himself. He closed the case down and strolled briskly from the park to return to Graham Road and discard his disguise having little more use for it. He was still experiencing the feeling of absolution as he walked when suddenly a cold realisation washed through his entire body as he recalled the meeting with Chapman and the agreement which they had made. He would have to pay him off at their next meeting to prevent him from taking Mary’s life now that the voices seemed to have gone and he felt in full control of his actions. His only fear was that Chapman knew what Mary looked like already and Tumblety knew too Chapman also had knowledge of Mary being in possession of money. He had to find this man urgently and stop the evil mission he had set him upon.

Tumblety had failed to see Chapman loitering outside of the park’s railings watching the exchange take place through a battered telescope. He now knew exactly what this woman that he was to kill looked like. He assumed now for certain that she must possess something of value judging by the meeting that had just taken place and the price the American was willing to pay. He would not bother seeking him out again; he would go and deal with her and take whatever she owned for himself.

***

Thursday 1
st
November 6.p.m; Robert Lees entered Commercial Street Police Station for the second time and spoke to the desk sergeant with a sense of urgency.

“I must speak with Inspector Abberline, please it’s very urgent. Please tell him it’s Robert Lees.” The sergeant was aware of who he was and immediately sent a young constable to get Abberline from his office. Godley came into the front office and spoke to Lees.

“Evening, Mr Lees, I’m sorry Inspector Abberline isn’t here he’s out on patrol around the pubs in Commercial Street.”

“Sergeant, please take me to him now I have had a terrible premonition.”

Godley could sense the fear and apprehension within Lees and fetched his top coat and walked straight out with the noted psychic into Commercial Street and headed south towards The Ten Bells and The Britannia.

They walked into The Ten Bells to see Abberline in deep conversation with two cleaner looking unfortunates at a table near to the bar. With his usual policeman’s manner of looking at anyone who entered he glanced across at the door as Godley and Lees, looking uncomfortable with the surroundings, entered. He stood up from the two women, not yet the worse for alcohol, and ushered Lees to an empty table as Godley went to the bar. Lees called across to Godley as Abberline sat him down.

“No alcohol for me, thank you.” Abberline began the conversation.

“Mr Lees, there’s obviously something troubling you to come here again.”

“Inspector, two nights on the trot I have had the same vision in my sleep and each time it becomes more and more vivid, I fear I will see more but must tell you of my premonition so far.” Abberline nodded his head slowly in response and encouraged Lees to continue.

“You must first of all find a woman with wealth in this area. She is the next to be killed. She is not a local woman but has travelled. She won’t die in the street but alone by a fireside at the hands of a dark and foreboding man who will delight in what he does.”

“Mr Lees, this is interesting but vague. There are no women who have travelled and have wealth in the East End. If they fitted that bill they would not live here.” Godley returned with small tankards of beer for himself an Abberline and a glass of tonic water for Lees. Abberline asked Lees to repeat what he had said for Godley’s benefit.

“Interesting, Mr Lees,” said Godley “will you see more in the future?”

“It’s possible, I may see more and I may be able to discover where and when it may happen.” Vague information didn’t help Abberline’s cause.

“Mr Lees, I deal in facts and what people actually see in the real world. Premonitions are all very well but I need more to go on to catch the killer or prevent a crime. If I go to the Commissioner with what you tell me he will dismiss me and you as fools or lunatics like I said to you before. I’d like to spare a constable to sit at your house each morning for when you wake but I can’t. So…” Lees angrily interrupted.

“Inspector! I am a medium I see only spiritual clues or symbolic events. I am neither a lunatic nor a fool and you will regret refusing my help when the killer strikes again.” Abberline quickly responded to the interruption.

“Mr Lees, we are not refusing your help but we can’t scour the East End looking for your psychic circumstances to match those on the street,” replied an agitated Abberline.

“Mr Lees, all we ask is your patience in this matter for us to start to find the circumstances of which you speak as you perceive more detail,” added Godley. Lees realised his sudden unreasonableness and spoke.