if it warranted further investigation.
The Special Crimes Unit had determined that it was in fact a hoax, and the information in which the letter contained after 123 years was effectively common knowledge and information that had been released over time following the countless amounts of books, websites and television specials that had been run on the ‘Jack the Ripper’ case.
However before officially closing the case as a hoax it was decided earlier on in the investigation that no matter what the Special Crimes Unit would have a detective on-scene at the proclaimed time and date to see what, if anything, would happen.
Detective John Stephens once again looked at his newly acquired watch, it was just one minute before ‘the ripper’ was due to return to action. Being honest to himself John admitted that he was on edge, not knowing what to expect, and although they had determined the letter to be a hoax what if there was a copycat killer who was lying in wait and doing the same thing John was, counting down the moments until his killing spree was to begin.
While already dismissed as a hoax by the Special Crimes Unit (SCU) there were some glaring points in the letter and evidence that had warranted a detective to be staged where Detective John Stephens stood on this cold night as rain started to fall again.
The fact that it was 123-years to the day since the first confirmed Jack the Ripper victim had been killed, that Detective John Stephens was standing in an alley way on Durward Street, which is what Buck’s Row where the first murder victim was found is now called in Whitechapel and that the area in which he stood is known by locals and many visitors as Ol’ England town due to the nature of the pubs, club and dinning venues – in fact the alley way in which the detective stood lay right beside the Whitechapel Hostel.
It was mainly for all of those coincidences that the team at the Special Crimes Unit had opted to play it safe and have a detective standing there at three-thirty in the morning to help determine once and for all that it was a hoax, or possibly a copycat killer before closing the case officially.
Detective John Stephens looked at his watch again. It had moved to three-thirty five, the ‘return of Jack the Ripper’ was now, in his mind, a hoax. No one was around, there was no appearance of a gentlemen out of thin air as if though somehow teleporting from another planet or dimension in the confusing layers of planet earth.
Although relieved, John was a little disappointed as he radioed in that all was clear and began to leave the alley way. Kicking a stone that lay on the ground in front of him he watched as it bounced and jolted its way across the alley way and down a drain pipe.
The detective reached the end of the alley way and turned towards where his car was parked nearby. As he turned he heard a commotion behind him, the hustling and buzzing patrons on the walkway gave way like Moses parting the red sea.
It took a few brief moments for Detective John Stephens to understand what was happening, as more patrons made way the detective could see a young lady who was obviously a working girl stumbling towards him – her neck had been slashed and a deep cut to her abdomen area meant that she was losing allot of blood.
Detective Stephens immediately called on his radio for back up and for an ambulance to be dispatched to his location, one victim, minimal breathing.
The young victim dropped to the ground and into the arms of Detective Stephens, with thirty-years of experience he could tell that she wasn’t going to make it. Her neck had been cut open with two separate cuts, her abdomen was partly ripped open by a deep, jagged wound, with a number of other incisions made to her abdomen – while Detective Stephens would need to wait for forensics to determine whether they were from the same knife by the looks of things all of the wounds had in fact been done using the same knife.
A crowd had gathered around the fallen girl and detective. Detective Stephens held the girl in his arms attempting to reassure her as her breathing dramatically reduced to a rattling breath, which sounded a lot like a spray can being shaken by some hoodlum about to spray his tag on the underside of a bridge. The detective looked around attempting to look at all of the on-lookers to see if any of them could in fact be the young working girls attacker – no one immediately stood out.
Paramedics arrived, as they rushed to where the working girl lay Detective Stephens noticed something clutched in her hand, it was a small piece of paper which he removed before the victim was placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance.
The doors to the ambulance were closed with the lead paramedic in the cab with the young working girl, while the assistant paramedic rushed to the driver’s seat. It was at this point, with the area now cordoned off, that Detective Stephens looked at the scrunched up piece of paper he had retrieved from the victim before she had been loaded into the ambulance.
“I am Back…” three simple words that sent chills down the spine of Detective John Stephens, in old English handwriting and on a piece of paper that certainly looked old and similar to that the Special Crimes Unit’ had received their letter on.
He immediately pulled an evidence bag from his back pocket, he had learned to always carry one after all of his years on the force, and placed the letter in it making a mental note to ensure he sent away for fingerprint and handwriting analysis.
The ambulance, which had only driven about twenty metres stopped. Detective Stephens jogged up to the assistant paramedic who professionally walked to the detective and quietly informed him that the patient had deceased, and while they are able to take her to the hospital as she was already loaded into the ambulance that he may want to make contact for the Medical Examiner to be placed on standby.
“Sir, with all due respect I’d like to put off my retirement until I can close this case,” Detective John Stephens spoke to his superior officer as he arrived at the scene. Captain Griggs had always been a big supporter of the Special Crimes Unit and had been an advocate against Detective Stephens’ retirement plans.
“I will make a call to One Police Plaza,” Captain Griggs said a smile growing across his face knowing that he hadn’t sent the paperwork in the hope of one of his most experienced detectives would change his mind.
“What do we have here?” Captain Griggs asked.
“Well sir, this is the case of the return of the Leather Apron,” Detective Stephens started, ensuring to use the nickname the case had been filed under to avoid reporters or Freedom of Information snoops getting wind of the ‘time travelling’ Jack the Ripper and possibly ruining the fundamentals of the investigation.
“At approximately three-forty this morning I left my post across at that alley way, to head back to the precinct when the young twenty-two year old sex-worker caused a scene forcing sidewalk patrons to separate.” Detective Stephens continued to brief his captain with the updated information he had received.
“The worker had obviously been attacked, suspected that all injuries came from the same knife, she collapsed in my arms and passed a short time later, this note was retrieved from the victim,” the detective said pulling the evidence bag with the note in it from his back pocket and handing it over to his captain.
“Is it… Is it real?” the captain said in disbelief after reading the note.
“I’m not sure sir but will be sending it with forensics for fingerprint and handwriting analysis.” Detective John Stephens informed his superior officer.
“Very good,” Captain Griggs said as he began walking around the scene.
While forensics processed the scene a bigger issue arose in the mind of Detective John Stephens, it had nothing to do with the case however something that was just as serious was. How was he going to explain to his wife Maureen that he wasn’t retired, that he had one more case to work and that it was he that had requested to work on it, unlike previous cases that had been dumped on his desk.
“Call me the moment we hear anything,” the detective instructed those still processing the scene as he entered his car and drove home. The entire way home he was attempting to work out through his head how
he was going to explain to his wife he was still working.
He pulled his car into the driveway, all the lights inside were turned off with only the front porch light left on, this was the usual nightly routine to assist in him being able to easily locate his keys and unlock the door.
Detective Stephens entered his property, his wife Maureen was already in bed and fast asleep. He walked straight to the kitchen and poured himself a scotch, throwing some ice in and sitting back to drink it all in one go. He noticed an envelope on the table addressed to him, he opened it and as he pulled the piece of paper from inside the envelope his mouth dropped open, and he struggled to swallow the scotch that remained in it.
The piece of paper was once again of an older style, the handwriting was once again an old English styled and it read;
“Dear Boss, I new [sic] you would take this case. I have been here and seen it all. They coppers couldn’t catch me last time, and I know you wont catch me this time, but I like to play ha. Ha. So let the games begin.” It was signed by non-other than Jack the Ripper.
“Honey is that you,” Maureen called from the top of the stairs, she had been awoken by the sound of her husband coming in, which she thought was the final time. She made her way down the staircase in her floral nightgown and walked
Nightmares - Short and Sweet before you Sleep Page 7