Requiem for the Ripper

by kindels

  "I know. I just can't figure any of it out. You came to me for help; and, somehow, I appear to have become a part of the problem, rather than the solution."

  "Whatever it is, it isn't your fault, David. You weren't to know that any of this would take place. If anyone should be apologising, it should be me. I've brought all of this trouble to your door, after all."

  "Look, William. I was mad as hell when I found out about how you'd held back the information about Jack Reid telling you my name, and about your search to find me in order to solve this mystery, but I have to admit, like Kate, that I'm totally committed to solving it now. Maybe somewhere along the line we'll even find out how and why Reid thought I was the man to help you."

  The sound of Kate's muffled voice, coming from the other room, ceased, telling me that she'd completed her conversation with Prendergast. Sure enough, no more than five seconds passed before she appeared at the kitchen door.

  "If you gentlemen would care to join me again, I've news from Miles that I think you'll find of interest."

  Forbes and I certainly didn't need asking twice. The sound of chairs being pushed back, their legs scraping on the hard kitchen floor, preceded the two of us, rushing through the door to follow Kate, back into the sitting room where we quickly positioned ourselves in my comfortable armchairs, once again, and waited for her to fill us in on her conversation with Prendergast.

  "Well, I have to say that Miles appears to have worked excessively hard on our behalf, all morning. Let me say first of all that, of course, as no one knows who Jack the Ripper was, his investigation into your family tree, William, was purely to try and ascertain if we could find a connection between you and the Cavendish family. With the information you provided, Miles told me that he is pretty certain that no such connection exists. His search was made so much easier by the fact that the Cavendish family history has apparently already been researched, on a number of occasions and, therefore, a comprehensive guide exists, as far as they are concerned. Certainly, as far back as the opening years of the nineteenth century, he could find no connection, however loose, between the Cavendishes and your own forbears. However, he did find out that there may be a small something that might muddy the waters a little. I gave Miles a great deal of peripheral information to work on as well, including the details Burton Cavendish noted in his own letters regarding the woman with whom he had the affair, and who we have to accept as being the mother of Jack the Ripper. Cavendish, of course, never mentioned her by name, only by a rough location. However, Miles noted that most of your own ancestors lived and worked in the same area as the woman mentioned by Cavendish. It is, therefore, possible, though not certain, that you may have some tenuous link to the female line, in respect of any bloodline of The Ripper as, of course, any illegitimate offspring that could be linked to your own family wouldn't necessarily have been officially listed as being as such, in any official records."

  "Oh, god," Forbes groaned. "So, it is possible that I'm related to the monster somehow?"

  "Anything is possible, William, without necessarily making it fact. I gave Miles some extremely wide parameters to work with, for obvious reasons, as I wasn't able to tell him exactly what we're seeking. He did discover, quite interestingly, that you did have a great, great uncle who was a country doctor in the exact area Burton Cavendish referred to. He was married and had a son and two daughters, all of whom survived to maturity, so, again, some intriguing possibilities exist there, wouldn't you say?"

  "The more you go on, the more I'm becoming convinced that there is a connection between my family and the evil bloodline of The Ripper. What if one of those ancestors of mine was actually the father or mother of The Ripper, the woman Burton Cavendish had the affair with? After all, he never named her, so it could have been possible, couldn't it?"

  "And it could just as easily not have happened like that," I interrupted the flow of their conversation. To me, it was plain that whatever Miles Prendergast has discovered, it did little to prove anything one way or the other, and I said so to Kate, who, surprisingly, agreed with me.

  "You're quite right, David," she said. "Nothing that Mike's told me proves that William is a descendant of Jack the Ripper, or even a relative of the Cavendish family."

  Forbes looked extremely puzzled.

  "So," he asked, "why have I been subjected to the dreams or, more specifically, the one recurring dream that Jack Reid also experienced, and why have all these terrible things been happening to me? If I'm not connected to the case in any way, surely I should not have been put through all of this?"

  "William, I have a feeling that your connection with the case is merely that of the part of a messenger," said Kate, her voice falling into a quiet and hushed tone.

  "A messenger?"

  "Yes. I think that Jack Reid used you, and don't ask me how he did it, to carry some kind of message out into the world. Whatever is going on, I believe you to have been possessed by whatever spirit previously resided within the mind and soul of Jack Reid. Somehow, he managed to pass that malevolence on to you, in order that it could escape the earthly bonds that held it in check within his own being. He, and I suspect the thing that dwelt within him, knowing he didn't have long to live, chose to pass on their 'essence' through an unwilling dupe. Anyone would probably have served their purpose; but, you, being a solicitor would have been granted easy access to Reid and were allowed to spend time with him almost at will. Tell me, do you remember anything unusual at all happening while you were alone with him during any of your visits?"

  Forbes's face suddenly assumed a look of horror as a terrible realisation dawned upon him.

  "Yes, now that you mention it, something strange did happen one day. I was listening to Reid as he recounted something of what happened to him during a hypnosis session that Ruth Truman had conducted with him. She'd attempted to reach into his mind and find out if his belief in possession, by Jack the Ripper, would show up in his childhood memories. She'd 'regressed' him, as he put it, and I recall feeling profusely sleepy myself at the time, and the next thing I knew Reid was shaking me by the shoulder, telling me that I must have been terribly, terribly tired to have nodded off in such a way. I apologised, of course and professed to not knowing what had come over me. Reid said I must have been overworking, and suggested I took a day or two off to recharge my batteries. As for the story he'd been relating to me, I remembered nothing of it, and, though I asked him to tell me again, he said it didn't really matter, as nothing had come of it. I never did work out how or why I could simply fall into a deep sleep like that, even though it only lasted a couple of minutes, according to my watch.

  Now, at last, I believe I know what you're thinking, Kate. You believe he did something to me, or rather the thing inside him found a way to penetrate my mind and body, and it's been using me ever since, is that it?"

  "That's precisely what I believe," Kate replied.

  "But why?"

  "Because, William, the thing, the entity, or whatever it is, needed to find a way to communicate with its next host, if that's the correct word, but that host couldn't possibly be reached from within the walls of Ravenswood Special Hospital. It needed you, or someone like you, to act as a carrier, a means to find a way to that new host."

  "But why come all the way up here to Skerries Rock?" I asked. "Why did the entity use Reid to instruct William to contact me? What the hell have I got to do with it?"

  "Perhaps you are in some way another 'conduit', as Kate called it earlier," Forbes replied. "Maybe it needs more than one of us in order to find its way to wherever and whoever it's seeking."

  "Maybe you're right. Perhaps that's why I had that brief experience of hearing the Mary Kelly music. What do you think, Kate?"

  Kate looked grave as she replied.

  "I think that we must all be cautiously careful from now on. There are things happening here that are not if this world, of that I'm certain. I have a feeling that we're tantalisingly close to discovering the real and terribl
e truth behind the mystery. If William and you are both part of the mystery, then, of course, it's equally possible that I am also included in the planned scenario."

  "Planned scenario?" Forbes looked mystified.

  "Oh yes, William. Whatever is taking place here is definitely not the result of some random phenomenon. Everything that has befallen you, and David too, I believe, has been planned. right from the beginning. by someone or something with a calculatingly high degree of intelligence and forethought. Whether that intelligence is recognisably human, of course, is another matter, and I hope it won't be long before all is revealed."

  "Bloody hell, Kate. That all sounds a bit grim and final."

  "I know David; but, believe me; I truly expect this whole affair to reach a conclusion before long. If this thing has a plan that involves us, we can be sure it will not rest until that plan has been executed, and I'm damn sure it doesn't include the entity remaining on Skerries Rock for any length of time."

  "I'm not sure I follow your reasoning."

  "Look, let's say that this thing really is Jack the Ripper in some non-corporeal form. Do you really believe he's come back, simply to stay trapped on a tiny little island off the coast of Scotland?"

  "Oh, right, I kind of see what you mean."

  "In other words," Forbes interrupted, "the thing intends to do something here and move on, perhaps to the mainland, where his new host is waiting for him?"

  "Something like that, William," said Kate.

  "But, what would it want here?" I asked again, pressing Kate for an answer.

  "I don't know for sure," she replied, 'but something here is important to it."

  "The page from the journal!" Forbes suddenly shouted. "It must have something to do with the journal."

  Before Kate could reply, we were all interrupted, once again, by the sudden and most unexpected sound of the telephone ringing. This time, I was quick to respond, and grabbed the phone from its cradle after only two rings.

  It was Miles Prendergast. He had discovered more information to give to Kate. I passed the phone to her and once again beckoned Forbes to follow me to the kitchen. It was time to replenish the coffee pot.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  A Grim Realisation

  Forbes and I finished our second cup of coffee. Kate remained closeted in the sitting room, conversing on the phone with Prendergast. The two of us had been sitting, in almost total silence, all the while she spoke with him. There didn't seem much to say, as we both appeared content to commune with our own thoughts until we heard Kate's latest news, if indeed Prendergast had provided her with anything else that might be of use to us. It had been a companionable silence, with neither Forbes nor I feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable at the lack of verbal communication. My house guest eventually broke the silence.

  "She's been on the phone for ages."

  I looked at my wristwatch.

  "It's only been twenty minutes."

  "Are you sure? It feels more like an hour."

  "I suppose the fact that we're both anxious and waiting to hear what she has to say is making the seconds seem like minutes, and the minutes like hours," I replied.

  "Do you think Prendergast has found out something else, something that helps us?"

  "We won't know that until Kate tells us, will we?"

  "I wish she'd hurry up. What can be taking them so long?"

  "We'll know soon enough, William. With all that's happened, so far, I think we can afford to be a little patient, if indeed Kate is finding some way to help you, and us, come to that."

  "Yes, I know, you're right, of course. It's just that ... "

  Forbes never finished his sentence, as, just then, the door opened and Kate strode into the room.

  "Well, that was an interesting conversation," she said, almost cryptically.

  "You've learned something haven't you?"

  "Yes, William, or rather, Miles has learned something. When I spoke with him earlier, I asked him to delve a little further into the Cavendish family history, to see if there may have been any previous examples of family members displaying murderous or violent tendencies. That would have fit in with my theory that this thing may go back even further than the time of Jack the Ripper."

  Forbes looked a little confused and Kate remembered that the idea of a centuries-old entity, or intellect transferring from one host to another, had been a matter we'd discussed while Forbes slept under the influence of the sedative. She quickly explained, and Forbes quickly came to terms with her theory.

  "Ah, I understand, Kate. So you really do think that something could have been 'possessing' members of the Cavendish clan for hundreds of years?"

  "I said before, William, anything is possible, and I asked Miles to do his best to conduct an in-depth search of his computer database to search for any strange or odd clusters of deaths that might fit the pattern we're looking for."

  "And he's learned something?" I asked, as Forbes nodded his head, thoughtfully.

  "He has, David; but, please pour me a cup of coffee and we can all retire to the sitting room once more, if you don't mind. I'd rather discuss this in comfort."

  "Of course, Kate. I should have offered you one sooner."

  "No need to apologise, just pour, David, please. My throat's positively parched after all that talking."

  A minute later, armed with her cup of freshly made coffee, Kate sat down in the comfortable armchair by the fireside, and Forbes and I waited for her to relate Prendergast's information to us.

  "As a result of what Miles told me, I have no doubt that the Cavendish family has proved to be the conduit, or receptacle for some kind of entity, for far longer than we previously thought."

  "You mean there've been others?"

  "Yes, David, it would appear so. In 1704, during the reign of Queen Anne, a certain Hubert Cavendysh, spelled with a 'y' instead of an 'i', the 'i' not being used for nearly another hundred years, was hanged in Kent following a series of horrific murders, which saw four women slaughtered in scenes apparently reminiscent of the Mary Kelly murder of 1888. Cavendysh, the local squire, admitted to the murders after a servant reported to the authorities that her master had developed the habit of going out, late, at night, and returning in the early hours. She'd been unable to sleep one night and had witnessed his return to the house 'covered in blood from head to foot', as she described it. The following day, the body of the fourth, unfortunate victim had been discovered, in her home, gutted and butchered.

  Going back even further, Martin deVilliers, another Cavendish ancestor, suffered execution by beheading during the time of Oliver Cromwell, in 1656 to be precise. There is little documentary evidence of his crimes; but, a short note, in the county records for that year, listed him as being the 'inhuman monster' responsible for at least three motiveless murders, committed while employed on the service of the commonwealth. In other words, deVilliers had been one of Cromwell's men, possibly an officer in The New Model Army, as Cromwell's troops were known, who appeared to have taken advantage of his position, in order to get close to his victims and perpetrate his crimes. The records do state that deVilliers died unrepentant, and refused the presence of a minister of the church at his execution.

  That's as much as Miles has been able to ascertain, I'm afraid to say. Comprehensive as the Cavendish family tree may be, he could find no other occurrences of multiple murders being committed by family members, as the further back in time he went, the less information showed up, apart from the usual 'who married who', and what children they bore, and so on."

  "Even so, it's highly suggestive of a recurrent theme of violence running through the family bloodline, I said, and Forbes added, "Yes, and the one who refused a priest could be indicative of some kind of aversion to anything religious, which might indicate a demonic possession perhaps?"

  "Maybe," said Kate. "You'll be pleased to hear that no such connections could be found in your family tree, William," she added.

  "Ah, then it looks li
ke you were correct in assuming that William is just some sort of link or conduit for this ... whatever it is," I volunteered.

  "Quite possibly, David. It does seem to me that the Cavendish family have, over the years, given birth to an inordinate number of murderers; and yet, the vast majority of the family appear to have followed quite noble professions. The last three generations, for example, have all been doctors, psychiatrists to be precise."

  "Perhaps something in the family's genetic makeup has compensated, for the odd, bad egg, by giving those blessed with freedom from that gene you mentioned, the desire and the ability to help others, in some way giving them the need to expiate the crimes of their wicked and twisted relatives."

  "That sounds plausible, David, but I doubt it's quite as simple as that. Even those 'bad eggs', as you call them, would probably have led far more exemplary lives had they not been the targets of the malevolence of this entity. They probably couldn't help themselves."

  "Which means that Jack Reid was telling the truth!" Forbes suddenly exclaimed. "If you really mean what you just said, Kate, then he had no way of ever stopping what happened to him. He had no more control over his actions than a runaway train would have of stopping at the next station."

  "I believe you're right, there, William. We have to realise that something is among us, even now, and that Jack Reid was in some way trying to warn you, us, in advance, that whatever this thing is, it has a definite purpose, and it has the ability to seek out and target its victims, hosts, or whatever you wish to call them. On reflection, I think Reid was, in fact, trying to warn the world!"

  "Wait a minute, Kate. Are you saying that this, this ... entity only infects or possesses members of the Cavendish family?" I asked

  "I'm not entirely certain; but, even if it is restricted, by some unearthly power, to that one family, we must remember that the female line of the Cavendishes has given birth to many offspring, of many differing surnames, over the centuries. The list of potential hosts is, therefore, vast, far bigger then we could hope to track down and eliminate from our list of suspect hosts."