Jack the Ripper Victims Series: The Double Event (33 page)

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Authors: Alan M. Clark

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Chapter 30
:
A Body at Mortuary

Report following postmortem examination:

Female, approximately forty-five years of age. The body was on its back, the head turned to left shoulder. The arms by the side of the body as if they had fallen there. Both palms upwards, the fingers slightly bent. A thimble lay upon the pavement just beyond the second finger of the right hand. The left leg extended in a line with the body. The abdomen was exposed. Right leg bent at the thigh and knee. The throat cut across....

…She wore a black straw bonnet with green and black velvet, black beads, and black strings; a black cloth jacket trimmed with fake fur at the collar and cuffs and 2 outside pockets trimmed with black silk braid and fake fur; a chintz skirt—3 flounces with a brown button on the waistband; A worn green silk dress bodice with a black velvet collar and brown metal buttons down the front; a grey stuff petticoat with a white waistband; a very old green alpaca skirt; a very old ragged blue skirt with a red flounce and light twill lining; a white calico chemise; a man’s white waistcoat with green revers; she had no drawers or stays.

Possessions:

1 thimble

1 mustard tin containing two pawn tickets: One in the name of Emily Birrell, 52 White’s Row, dated August 31, 9d for a man’s flannel shirt. The other is in the name of James Birrell of 6 Dorset Street and dated August 28, 2S for a pair of men’s boots. Both addresses are false.

A pair of men’s lace up boots with mohair laces, right boot fixed with red thread

1 red gauze silk (worn about the neck)

1 large white handkerchief

3 abalone buttons

1 blue stripe bed ticking pocket with waist band and strings

1 white-handled table knife

1 cork

2 unbleached calico pockets

1 white cotton pocket handkerchief with red and white birds-eye border

1 pair of brown ribbed stockings with white mended feet

12 pieces of white rag, slightly bloodstained

1 piece of white coarse linen

1 piece of blue and white shirting—three cornered

2 small blue bed ticking bags

1 short black clay pipe

1 tin box with tea

1 tin box with sugar

1 piece of flannel

6 pieces of soap

1 small tooth comb

1 pewter tea spoon

1 red leather cigarette case with white metal fittings

1 empty tin match box

1 piece of red flannel with pins and needles

A ball of hemp

A piece of old white apron.

A printed handbill

A printed calling card for Frank Carver, 301 Bethnal Green Road

A portion of a pair of spectacles

1 red mitten

Chapter 31: Epilogue

Conway sat in his windowless room trying to compose a ballad. Sitting and smoking his pipe, obsessively sharpening the point on his pencil with a knife, as if that might sharpen the effect of his words, he would grumble and scribble a line or two, and then want to read it to Katie to get her reaction.

Since before Katie’s death, nearly a month ago, the Whitechapel murders had been a source of intense interest throughout the Kingdom. Because he had known her so well and for so long, he should be able to write a chapbook, with a ballad about Katie’s murder, that would sell many thousands of copies. While it was sad what had happened to her, there was no reason he should not capitalize on having been such a large part of her life, after supporting her for so many years. He would become rich if he succeeded.

The prose about her life had been easy enough, but the ballad was difficult. Conway had not written a good ballad since Katie left him. He bore the burden of that as he wrote. His lines were either too distant and cold or sentimental and sweet. He couldn’t strike the right balance as he shifted from anger toward her for abandoning him and destroying her life to sympathy for the warmhearted woman with the hot temper.

If she were here, she would suggest a line or two that would pull all his efforts together into a brilliant success.

His left eye stung as he thought of the beautiful, innocent girl at her first hanging, a red silk kerchief around her neck.

Conway could write anything and it would sell, but couldn’t allow himself to do a poor job of it. Katie deserved better and he’d have to live with it.

The stinging increased and a tear formed. The drop spilled down his cheek onto the page beneath him, blurring his words.

Am I that sentimental about my lost Katie
?

No, it’s just a cinder
. He rubbed his eye and shook the thought from his head.

Conway bent over his work fruitlessly.

~End~

About the Author

Author and illustrator, Alan M. Clark grew up in Tennessee in a house full of bones and old medical books. He has created illustrations for hundreds of books, including works of fiction of various genres, nonfiction, textbooks, young adult fiction, and children’s books. Awards for his illustration work include the World Fantasy Award and four Chesley Awards. He is the author of fourteen books, including eight novels, a lavishly illustrated novella, four collections of fiction, and a nonfiction full-color book of his artwork. He is an Associate Editor for Broken River Books, a Portland, Oregon publisher of crime fiction. Alan M. Clark and his wife, Melody, live in Oregon.

www.alanmclark.com

Connect with the Author Online

You can email the author or find out more about him through the following websites:

http://www.ifdpublishing.com

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