Foreword:
This is a repost of "Night Falls in Whitechapel" by me, since I've decided not to include this tale in my "Last Crusader" novel. I'll be posting this one along with "Night Falls: Berlin" as a companion piece. While this one is posted to Erotic Horror, "Berlin" will be posted to NonHuman. Probably on the same day, if everything goes right.
One of the greatest unsolved mysteries on Earth is the case of Jack the Ripper. There are quite a few theories, but none of them have been proven yet. This is my theory... with a twist. It's loosely based on a paper I wrote in college in the True Crime class that I took as an elective. I won't say that my theory is the correct one, but it's my theory. Agree or disagree, but either way, I hope everyone enjoys the harrowing and somewhat twisted ride. ;)
I.D.
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Whitechapel, London, England: Friday, August 31st, 1888
The scream rang out across Whitechapel that night. Mary Ann Nichols, a lady of the evening, had found her newest client to be much more than she had bargained for. He had been nice, courteous, and refined... until he'd gotten her into the alleyway. He had struck like lightning with the scalpel in his hand, cutting her deeply as she screamed. His cut had severed her carotid, and he butchered her dead body with surgical precision before leaving her for the constables to find.
Detective Inspector Cole Drayson, London CID, Whitechapel Division, knelt by the body. "The first cut, here, severed her carotid. The second cut, here, severed her vocal chords and cut off her scream." The Detective Inspector said. He then looked over the rest of her naked and butchered torso. The cuts there had very little blood around them, while the blood spray patterns on the wall behind her had obviously been made by the gash to her artery. "Did you get that, Constable?" He looked up at the man taking down the information.
"Yes, Inspector." The bobby replied.
"Right, then. Now, the jagged rip down here shows hesitation on the part of the killer. He ripped her open, but you can see here and here..." He pointed to two points in the woman's stomach... "Where he hesitated."
"Does that mean something, sir?" The bobby asked.
"I'm not sure yet. I think it might, but let's see what else this lady can tell us." He smiled up at the young constable.
"Ummm, she's dead, sir. She can't really talk." The rookie cop was nonplussed by the new Scotland Yard inspector's manner.
"That, my friend, is where you are wrong." Inspector Drayson said as he squatted and used a small twig to point out two more spots of interest. "There are no defensive wounds. She wasn't expecting this attack. That means she either knew her attacker, or otherwise had no reason to fear him."
"Very good, sir." The bobby said as the Inspector rose from his squatting position.
"Have her body sent to the morgue, and DO WE HAVE AN IDENTITY ON HER YET?" He shouted to the bobbies milling around and questioning potential witnesses.
"Yes, sir. A neighbor of hers recognized her as Mary Nichols, a rather infamous prostitute." One of the other constables said with a sneer as he reported to Inspector Drayson.
"Mind your tongue, Constable." Cole warned. "She is no less deserving of justice than you or I."
Something in the young Inspector's voice and gaze cowed the veteran constable. "Yes, sir." He said respectfully, and then turned to two of his junior men. "Get the meat wagon and transport the body to the morgue."
"Yes, sir!" The two men responded in unison.
Inspector Drayson looked over the scene again. 'What a waste.' He thought. 'Nobody deserves to die like this, save the man who committed this atrocity.'
He returned to Commissioner's office and reported in after giving the scene another once over and writing down his findings in his notebook.
"Ahh, Inspector Drayson. Come in, please." Police Commissioner Warren said.
"Yes, sir. When can I have some more Inspectors to help with this case?" Cole asked.
Warren sighed. "I'm sorry, Cole. Word from on high has another team dedicated to this case. You're going to be reassigned."
"Bollocks! That's shite and you know it, sir! I'm Lead Inspector on this one." Cole was furious, and Warren thought he saw an unnatural light shining in the young Inspector's eyes.
"That will be enough, Detective Inspector!" Warren bellowed, and Cole reigned in his anger.
"Fine, then. Where will I be reassigned?" He asked, visibly controlling himself.
"You're being assigned to Carfax, Cole." Warren said.
"In that case, sir, who will be taking over the investigation in Whitechapel?" Cole asked, still grating over this snub.
"Chief Investigator will be Detective Inspector Edmund Reid." Warren said.
"You're joking. Reid?? He can't find his arse with both hands and a bloody lantern!" Cole laughed harshly.
"That's enough, Cole. Please, let him handle this." Warren said.
"Blast it, Charles! You know as well as I do that this isn't over. Remember that case from earlier this month? Martha Tabram on the seventh?" He asked. "I guarantee this one is related! How many more have to die?"
"That was almost a month ago, Cole. There's nothing to say these two are connected." Charles said to his young friend.
"I believe they are. The first one was bloodier, and the deed was much more brutal. I think she was his... practice? This one is more refined in its direction, but no less savage, all things considered. Miss Tabram died horribly and screamed the entire time until her throat was cut at the end. If any Constables had been in the area, her killer might have been caught." Cole proposed his theory.
"There is nothing to suggest that, Cole. I'm sorry, but you're off the case." Warren gave Drayson the look that said it would not be best to argue the point.
"Very well, Charles. I am tendering my resignation, and will investigate independently of London CID." He set his badge and pistol on the Commissioner's desk.
