Page 67 of Secrets in the Dark
“Wretched bad business! I hope they catch that monster quickly.”
“Indeed,” Della murmured.
“They will get him,” Mason said with determination.
‘Never got the first one,” the bartender murmured, moving on.
Della spoke quietly after taking a bite of her fish. “He covered it well, and he’s fielding the questions well. He announced a hotline for police just now and I’m afraid that they’re going to be inundated.”
“The press helped create Jack the Ripper,” Mason commented. “In good ways, I believe, and, of course, there’s always the negative, neighbor turning on neighbor, but, as I’m sure Abigail would agree, the press also highlighted the condition of Whitechapel and Spitalfields at the time, so that was important. And, of course, there was what Jack did himself—and the letters with which the police were inundated.”
“There were two letters that they thought might be real. What they call the Dear Boss letter and the From Hell letter. Although I think journalists later took credit for them, it’s still likely that they might have been from the killer. The Dear Boss letter changed the Whitechapel murders into the Jack the Ripper murders—because it was signed Jack the Ripper. And in that letter, he said that he’d clip a lady’s ears—it was written before Catherine Eddowes was murdered and when she was discovered, her ear had been clipped. And... Well, with forensics, we’d have known for sure. The From Hell letter that was sent to Mr. Lusk contained a piece of kidney with Jack claiming that he had eaten part of it and that it had been very nice.”
“Mason, look!”
Della was pointing at the television. The anchor was interrupting the rerun of the news conference with breaking news.
“We have recently received an email from someone claiming to be the killer, calling himself the Ripper King,” she announced. “The police have been informed, and since it has apparently gone many places, we wanted to share it with the public as quickly as possible. The email reads, I laugh when they think that they have me, that they know me. They will soon realize that they know nothing at all. They may post all the pictures that they like, but if you meet saucy Jack—for I am him, reincarnated with greater power—you will never know that you have had the honor. Unless, of course, you are one of the lucky ones I hold in my embrace. I am eternally yours, Jack the Ripper, risen to be king, King of the Rippers, for all who came before me just played at the part. And she must know, she must feel, that she will be the one, for this Jack will find her, and find the time, and she will then be known as Mary Kelly.’”
The anchor turned her attention from the scroll to the audience.
“Again, we cannot emphasize how careful and vigilant we must be!”
“Of course, he sent a letter,” Della said. “He would have to—after the news conference.”
“But he’s angry,” Mason said.
“And that’s dangerous!”
“Maybe. And maybe it will cause him to make a mistake. I believe that they’ve moved on to speak with producers and directors on any movies being filmed, directors, stage managers, cast and crew at the theaters, and owners of makeup shops. He’ll need to become more inventive if he really wants to change his appearance now.”
Mason set his credit card on the bar and they quickly paid, anxious then to meet up with the others and find out where they were—and where they should be—to try to trace Jesse Miller through his disguises.
“Edmund is quite a find,” Della said as they headed out.
“Should I be jealous?” he teased.
She smiled. “He’s one of us.”
He nodded. “And we didn’t know.”
“We should have known,” Della agreed. “I wonder about the others.”
“We can just ask, you know.”
“Think we should?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. As for now...let’s get back in the game. And, no, we can’t stop to see a play!”
“I wasn’t going to ask and you know it. Except that I do love the theater in London. Maybe, once we catch this fellow, we can see a play. I’ve really wanted to see the showSix! It features the—”
“Six wives of Henry VIII?” Mason interrupted, amused.
“They compete to have the best story in song. I have the CD—”
“I know. I’ve listened,” he said, grinning.
“Right!”
