Whitechapel (38 page)

The carriage driver pulled up instantly and jumped from his perch running back to see if the pedestrian was alive or dead. Miller and his thug looked on leaving him for what looked like dead and walked off away from the scene along the alleyway. A crowd gathered around the lifeless looking body of Robert Ford as a pair of patrolling constables ran to the scene one of them being Jonas Mizen who barely recognised his young colleague with his injuries. He spoke to the carriage drive sternly.

“Didn’t you see him, you dozy bastard?”

“He ran from nowhere, mate, I couldn’t miss him,” replied the driver

“Your carriage empty?” demanded Mizen.

“Yes, it is.”

“Right, let’s get him on board and over to the hospital, he’s hardly breathing.”

***

Wednesday 16
th
October; Abberline and Godley had had a wasted journey the day before to the Golden Lane mortuary as they couldn’t see Dr Brown until today due the fact he’d been out of London. Today, however, they saw Dr Thomas Openshaw at the London Hospital who gave the kidney a thorough investigation and made a significant conclusion for them.

“Inspector, based on the fact that there was two inches of renal artery left within the victim Eddowes and this piece possesses one inch, the two would match to create the correct length for this blood vessel. The kidney itself is in state of decay driven by alcohol abuse and I could confirm that it is consistent with that of a kidney from a forty five year old, or thereabouts aged, woman with an alcohol abuse problem. This is most definitely from your last victim, gentlemen, no doubt about it.”

“Doctor Openshaw,” began Abberline, “do you know anything of an American who is in the business of obtaining female anatomical specimens?”

“Your man came here yesterday asking the same thing. The story seems to have developed from a student doctor who spent sometime in Paris in the last year or two and heard from an odd mortuary attendant there of an American who wanted specimens and paid handsomely for them. His story seems to have been subject to the old ‘Chinese whispers’ attention and it’s now told as here. I can tell you, I know of no one doing this, approaching us or approaching any of my immediate colleagues. I’m sure as you know the only person engaged in this is the Ripper and none of us know who he is of course.”

“Thank you, Doctor, you’ve been most helpful. Could we leave the specimen with you for now for safe keeping?”

“Certainly, more the merrier here!” He said humorously. “Good day, Gents.”

“Thanks again, Doctor, good bye.” Abberline and Godley left taking to the familiar streets of Whitechapel ready to go to Toynbee hall that evening for the public meeting.

The Press headlines that day were not good; especially by no surprise to the police were those on the front page of The Star. The newspaper billboards carried the headline which was re-enforced by the paper sellers:

‘Cannibal in London, Ripper eats Kidney’

It was a subject that would weigh heavily on the public meeting that night. This headline disturbed Mary Kelly more than any other as she walked out along Bethnal Green Road with Bruiser having had a night with no sleep worrying about why Robert had not returned to his lodgings. Imparting her sorry tale to him with his furious reaction to her having not told the truth sooner, she was concerned that going to the police now might implicate her in a theft and some issue of withholding information. If her suspicions around the identity of the murderer were true then perhaps now her only course of action was to try to find and confront Tumblety herself. She would have to make herself high profile again on the streets to try to draw him out and in the hope that she would also find Robert again. The matter of him missing was not one she wished to take to the police either knowing he was currently in disgrace over the murder of Del Lake. She continued walking impervious to the sights, sounds and smells of her surroundings except for that of the sound of the newspaper sellers calls ringing in her ears.

“Cannibal in London, Ripper eats Victims Kidney. Panic on the streets, read all about it!”

8.p.m; Toynbee Hall was bustling with the local community taking up every seat and standing along the sides of the auditorium with a conservative police presence spread throughout. On the stage to deliver the police briefing and to field questions from the audience were Abberline, Godley and Inspector Spratling all faces familiar to nearly all of those having gathered. A loud and steady buzz of conversation filled the room as people seemed to compete with each others conversation to be heard. Two minutes past and Abberline stood and drew a silence across the room as he began.

“Ladies and gentleman, good evening and welcome to this first community briefing. I am joined on stage as most of you will know by Detective Sergeant Godley and Inspector Spratling. I will discuss the investigation so far and all of us will field questions from you at the end. I would appreciate if members of the press did not monopolise this session. First of all, I would like to express my deepest regret that these events are taking place. I know better than anyone that Whitechapel is never the most genteel of districts but it has never been the hot bed of violent motiveless butchery. Rest assured we are doing all we can to combat this. Since the Chapman murder we have doubled the number of uniform patrols and have posted regular plain patrols which since the so called ‘double event’ have been increased further by half. To that end I make no apology if the more coppers out there means you get caught doing things you shouldn’t, then tough.

“Personally I don’t believe all of these crimes are linked. I don’t think the same man struck twice on the night of the 29
th
and 30
th
September but I do think he was most likely responsible for Cathy Eddowes death and all the others before. We have no decent description, height, age, clothing and social status; descriptions all vary wildly and I urge you all to perhaps have ‘one less for the road’ in the evenings so you can all be a little more alert. Some people have noted a man with a large moustache, but let’s face it that is not an uncommon feature for many. Please come forward still with your concerns and with what you see that you don’t like, but to members of the Vigilance Committee I say this; thank you for becoming more co-operative and please continue to refrain from taking the law into your own hands. Mr Lusk has decided not to be here tonight as all of you will undoubtedly know why, and I send my good wishes to him. The floor is now open to all of you to ask us what you will please.” Abberline sat down as the hall fell into silence momentarily before the first question was presented.

“Mr Abberline, do you think all women should fear or only the unfortunates?” asked a woman in the front row.

“Personally I feel all women in the area should be on their guard, but those who do persist in being out late should pay special attention to who they see, speak to or go off with. Let someone know if possible where you are,” replied Abberline.

“Sergeant Godley, why do you reckon this is happening?” asked a publican sat towards the rear of the hall.

“Sir, if we truly knew that, we’d have a better chance of catching this person. We have no clear motive as yet to follow other than he maybe suffering from melancholia or some other mental health problem and is driven to do so as a result.”

The publican continued “but ain’t it true he takes bits?”

“He has removed some parts of the victims which we believe may fuel his dementia and may give him a reason. It doesn’t help us know who he may target.”

“Mr Spratling,” said a local shopkeeper “is it right you’ve got coppers here from other places then?”

“Yes, to help boost the patrol numbers,” he replied.

“Thought so,” said the shop keeper “most of them seem bleeding lost!” A wave of laughter went round the hall.

An hour long question and answer session continued from the local community until the people seemed to be satisfied and their curiosity had been exhausted. Then Will Bates chipped in.

“Gentlemen, just one last simple matter, when do you think you might catch him?” This was an impossible point to answer but Abberline knew he had to respond, wanting to put Bates equally on the spot.

“With public vigilance and support, our officers continuing to work hard together, but most importantly with your help and that of the Press as a whole, especially avoiding the spread of unnecessary fear, then I would suggest at anytime now.” Bates didn’t like the answer as the room turned to look at him and turning red with embarrassment he was forced to reply.

“Thank you, Mr Abberline.” The hall quickly emptied and everyone, except the uniformed officers, with people returning home for the night.

***

A week later on Wednesday 23
rd
October, Mary was frantic with worry about not having seen Robert for over a week and there was no sign of him having been back to his lodgings either. Still reluctant to go to the police, she decided to go to the London Hospital to see if he had been hurt in some way and had been taken there. Walking through the arched portico and up the grand steps at the front of the building she walked up to the reception desk and spoke to a smartly dressed nurse.

“Excuse me, but I’m worried that my fiancé might be here having been hurt in someway.” The nurse looked at her oddly.

“Hurt in someway? Don’t you know for sure that he has been and so that he is here?”

“No, he went missing a few days ago over an argument and I think he could be here.”

“Have you reported this to the police?”

“No, not yet, please, could you just check, I’m really worried about him.”

The nurse looked her up and down and then spoke having empathised with her plight. “All right, I’ll just check the ward register, what’s his name?”

“Robert Ford.”

She spent quite some time leafing through a large leather bound register until she came up with an answer, “He’s here in Albert Ward, first floor on the east wing.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” she gave a slight smile in appreciation but now very worried about his condition and went off to the ward.

She arrived and checked with the staff on the entrance to the ward at the nurses station. A sister in her blue uniform led her slowly down to Robert’s bed and told her of his condition. The ward smelt clinical and it was austere by its plain and functional brightness.

“He’s been here just over a week. Still breathing, his body is functioning fine but he is in what we call a ‘coma’ having gone under the wheels of a carriage. He has a serious head wound with a large section of skin missing from his forehead skinned almost to the skull, his face isn’t as swollen now but he had a lot of facial injuries including a broken nose. He’s got a broken left forearm so that’s set in plaster. He’s been in the wars this one.” As she finished speaking they reached the foot of this bed.

Mary was shocked by his condition and already with thoughts of remorse for their argument going through her mind; she wished she explained things more rationally if she could have. She almost missed the sister speaking to her who had to repeat herself to get Mary’s attention.

“I’ll leave you with him for a little while, it might do him good.”

“Thank you,” said Mary sitting to the right of the bed taking hold of Robert’s warm right hand and gently caressing it. He actually looked quite peaceful but his nose had suffered a terrible break and the scarring across his forehead was deep and ugly. His left arm had been set in plaster and was suspended by a wire from a traction unit above the bed and she noted he was breathing very normally and gave the appearance of being in a deep sleep. She spoke to him quietly and gently.

“Robert, darling, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me and let’s just go from here from all this pain and death that seems to hold a grip over everyone we know and everything we do. I really do love you more than you’ll ever know and want to be with you somewhere far from here. You don’t have to wait around here for justice to be done; it’ll happen with or without you. I just want you to wake so we can go away to the middle of nowhere together.” She sat with him for half of an hour before the sister came back to ask her to leave him until another day. Mary reluctantly did so and made her way sombrely into the High Street in Whitechapel and headed towards Commercial Street and her old haunts with the intention to actively seek out Tumblety and settle the matter.

***

That evening Druitt walked into The Blind Beggar pub for the third time having finally plucked up the courage to execute his plan regarding Tumblety. He was nervous to be back in the area and at entering such a working man’s drinking establishment with few women around. The pub was crowded and he could see a man he assumed, from press coverage, to be George Lusk holding court with a group of about a dozen local men. He stood at the bar having bought a pint of beer and listened intently to what he could hear Lusk saying to these men.

“Fellows, it has been nearly three weeks since the last Ripper attack so perhaps Abberline’s patrol tactics are working. With this in mind we have been out on a moderate basis forming local watches of our own around the neighbourhoods and none of our members have seen anything out of the ordinary. We can’t allow ourselves to relax our guard, however, so this level of vigilance must be maintained to catch him or prevent him striking.” There was a rousing ‘here, here’ from the crowd at that point when Druitt also noticed a young lad of about sixteen being chatted to intently by a well dressed man of forty at the other end of the bar. Money exchanged hands between them and the boy left the pub to be followed a few minutes later by the well dressed man. Curious, Druitt followed him out and saw him go round the corner into Cambridge Heath Road; as he did so himself he saw the man disappear into a small area of ornamental garden behind some bushes. He walked closing himself to a point where he could hear some very distinctive sounds, the first was that of the well dressed older man grunting and the other was of the lad gasping and then speaking, “Slowly, sir, just to start with it’s painful at first.” The older man then stopped grunting and aggressively replied.