I forward to you this, in abstentia, my congratulations and best wishes on your retirement from the infamous Pinkerton National Detective Agency. You have had my utmost admiration for your tenacity and perseverance, and while you did not reap the true reward you sought for for so very long, I hope you do take some consolation that I stopped way before you did.
As far as you know.
This missive is a parting gift, if you might take it as such, as you retire to chilly Bournemouth with that delectable Mrs. of yours, the former Emma Beaument. It is a pity that she and I never met, but, really, she and I would never have had the opportunity to cross paths. Straight and narrow, inspector…straight and narrow.
How fitting that my “final” prize, Mary Jane Kelly, for “Fair Emma” was indeed worthy of my skills. Inspector, she was a beauty, and fallen as she was, it was a pleasure to make her acquaintance. Mary was tall, slim, fair, of fresh complexion, and of attractive appearance, but…you only met her after my work was done. I doubt you found her very appealing once you came upon her, prone and vivisected as she was, but trust me, Frederick (I do hope you don’t mind I call you that), she was very attractive.
Very attractive indeed.
How puzzling the insides of a woman are, the extra parts, the bits and pieces that make up the female form. I hope you appreciated the aesthetics of the beauty I left, the abdominal cavity emptied of its viscera, the displacing of the bosoms, the flaying and intricate incisions that transformed “Fair Emma” into a work of art…a work of art I left for you and the stalwarts of Scotland Yard.
All these years later, the cases still open, and you now in retirement…are you still pondering why? I know you think you know the who. It wasn’t poor mad Georgie, I’m sure you realize now. Yes, he did poison those young ladies (of which you only pinpointed three; he had a much higher count) and paid for his “crimes.” Not mine, Frederick, not mine.
Why? I must admit, I loved them all, in my own way. Especially Mary. I keep her heart with me, always.
There were others before, and many, many after those attributed to me. Each throat cut, ever organ removed, every slice given live with me even now, Frederick, and while you wile away your time by the sea shore, think on this:
You were never, ever close in catching me. Pity. It was fun.
Hug your Emma, Frederick, but never worry, for she is as safe from my knife as the purest child in the church of the lord our God. Love her, as I love mine. I shall be enjoying the rewards of my memories, and those that I still come to know.
With fond regards,
Clever twist on the Ripper story. I suppose it will always have a horrible fascination, since Jack’s identity remains a mystery to this day, as well as his true motive(s).
Thanks Li. Yeah, I’ve been fascinated with the Jack the Ripper legend for a long time, in movies, books, short stories and comic books. I hope I did this justice.
Doubly disturbing–not only was the character real, the letter sounds so calm in tone. I feel bad for Abberline, since he was trying to find him for so many years but never did.
Thanks GE. Yeah, imagine all the police who were honestly searching for him (or her) and never got any final satisfaction.
What a contrast between the apparent kindness in his letter and the content. Eek! =)
🙂 thanks Sam..I was trying for that.
I agree with Sam….almost reminds me of Dr. Hannibal Lecter….so intelligent and so creepily civil and eloquent. Amazing.
This story hooked me from the start. Love the twist on the Jack the Ripper story and the sly, taunting nicety of the letter to Abberline.