TimeRipper

by D E McCluskey

  Abberline shuddered at the memory, and then shuddered at the thought of his Jacqueline saying something like that, with a smile on her face.

  ‘So, that one was the last of the ones we knew about. It looks like we’re on our own for the last three. What were you saying about this man who’s connected to the crimes?’

  ‘Kosminski is his name, Aaron Kosminski. I’ve got him set up to be the patsy when all this is finished. His wires are more than a little loose anyway. I’m sure you must have noticed him at some of the extractions.’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t say I did.’

  ‘Well, I think we should keep our eye on him. He might be our link to their movements. Is your tech working correctly?’

  ‘Yeah. Doesn’t yours show where they are?’

  ‘It does, but I thought you might have had a better handle on where they were going to be.’

  ‘No, all we had was the times when the signals were terminated. I can see where they are now, they’re all huddled together in a room on…’ she took a moment to reach for her portal.

  ‘Brick Lane,’ he finished for her. ‘It’s a small bridewell, an overnight one, but at least we’ve now got an idea of where they’ll be tonight.’ Abberline then leaned in. He had an idea. He lifted his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into it.

  ‘Kosminski, this is Abberline, can you hear me?’ he looked into her eyes as he was speaking. They were just as deep and brown as he had remembered them twenty-six years ago.

  ‘Hoo, Abberline, wadda you want?’ came the voice from the communications device.

  ‘Shit, I forgot, he’s rotten drunk. Probably still asleep outside the Princess Alice pub.’

  ‘That’s where I was earlier. I figured that the women would be expecting a man, so I took off my disguise and befriended Mary, as I’d noticed she was on her own.’

  ‘Yeah, well I told you he’s connected to the extractions in some form or other, so he was there for the same reason, only he got drunk. He won’t be any good to us now. Unless…’

  ~~~~

  Kosminski was asleep. He was strangely comfortable in his little doorway, and he was dreaming. In his dream, he was sitting in his barbershop, his wife was sweeping up all the hair he’d cut that day, and he was taking a well-earned break. There was a knock on the window, a man was stood outside. He was wearing a cape and a tall, top hat; he was demanding to come inside.

  His wife was ignoring him, but there was something about the man that he just could not put his finger on. He opened the door, allowing him to enter. As he did, his cape swished in the wind and out from underneath it strode six women. He recognised them all. Tabram came in first, then Nichols. Next was the witch who had possessed him, Annie Chapman. She strode in, walked up to him, and touched his face. ‘Grandfather,’ she whispered, ‘great, great, great, great, great, great, grandfather.’ Then Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes and finally another woman, one who he thought he knew but he couldn’t quite make out.

  The shadow of the man then sat in his chair, resting his cane against his sideboard. Kosminski noticed the handle on the top of it was a fine silver spherical shape, but there was a nozzle sticking out of it. He’d seen it before but didn’t know where.

  ‘Cut it all off,’ the man demanded as he removed his top hat. The long hair beneath unfurled and flowed down his back. The girl, who he thought he knew, then took the hat and put it on her head, tucking her hair beneath the rim.

  ‘All of it?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, all of it. And get rid of her,’ he demanded, pointing to Kosminski’s wife, who was still sweeping, showing no interest in what was happening.

  ‘Right away, sir,’ he said and walked over to his wife. As he got closer, she began to crouch onto the floor, large bruises appeared over her eyes and her nose began to gush with blood. He then watched as her nose snapped and another bruise appeared over her temple. Then she was gone.

  He returned to his mysterious customer. ‘Was that to your satisfaction, sir?’

  ‘Yes’ came the curt reply.

  He stood in front of the man; he was still only a shadow. He removed his cutthroat razor, relishing the fine ivory handle and the weight of it in his grasp, before sharpening it on a leather strap.

  ‘Have you been in London long?’ he asked conversationally.

  ‘Twenty-six years, sir. And only a few months too.’ Although this answer didn’t make any sense, Kosminski understood exactly what he was saying.

  He began to work.

  He walked behind him, reached over, and took hold of his chin. With a stroke of the razor, he removed a thin swathe of shadow, and a feminine chin came into view. It was full of colour. He took another swipe and then another. It was like pulling paper from a wall, revealing the older paper beneath.

  All the time he swiped at the man, the woman sitting in the shop window, wearing his top hat, became covered in shadow. It then occurred to him: the man in the shadow was the woman who he couldn’t quite see. Then the penny dropped: the man in shadow was the woman in the bar who Mary Kelly had been talking too.

  He woke with a start, to two silhouettes looming over him.

  ~~~~

  The larger of the two figures kicked out at him and caught him in the ribs. ‘Aaron Kosminski, you are a disgrace! Wake up, man.’

  He opened his eyes and tried to shield himself from another attack. ‘What do you want? Leave me alone!’ he shouted.

  ‘Kosminski, it’s me, Abberline. I’ve got another job for you. Get up now, man.’

  It took him a moment to recognise who his attackers were. He knew Abberline straight away, but it took further scrutiny before he could place the second one. It was the woman from his dream, who was also from the pub tonight, who was also the killer. ‘Jack?’ he uttered.

  ‘Nearly,’ she replied, holding out her hand towards him. ‘Pleased to meet you. I understand that you’re a fan of my, erm, handiwork.’

  He recoiled from the hand and tried to scurry further back into the doorway where he’d been sleeping. ‘Get away from me, the pair of you, get away.’

  Jacqueline looked at him and smiled.

  Abberline took his cue and kneeled, offering him his hand. ‘Come now, Kosminski, we’re about to make history here. We need your help to complete the job.’

  Reluctantly, like a small child reacting to kind words from an abusive parent, but the only real authority they had ever known, Kosminski took Abberline’s hand.

  ‘Good lad! Thank you, Aaron.’

  As soon as he was up, he watched as Abberline turned towards the woman, he apologised to her, then hit her with all his rather considerable force, full in the face. He wasn’t quite sure what he had just witnessed. He looked from the woman on the floor with the bleeding face to Abberline standing next to her, smiling. The policeman from the future put a steel whistle in his mouth, winked at him, and then blew it.

  A high-pitched, shrill filled the air. Kosminski covered his ears as he thought the sound might pierce his skull. Abberline put something into his hands and then something into his coat pocket. He was trying to see what they were when the strange policeman punched him full in the face too. His vision blurred, and he had a sensation of falling. There was another blow to his head to add to the ones he had already suffered tonight, and everything went black, although he could still hear through the darkness and pain.

  Another man appeared at their location, followed by another and then another

  ‘You there,’ one of the newcomers shouted. ‘Halt in the name of the law.’

  ‘I’m Inspector Frederick Abberline of the Metropolitan Police, Inspector First Class. Here’s my warrant. I believe I’ve captured Jack the Ripper.’

  ‘Bloody-hell, sir, it looks like you have too. He certainly fits the description.’

  ‘And just look at that knife he’s holding,’ came another voice.

  ‘My word, sir, this is gonna make you famous all over London, and no mistake. Jack the Ripper, as I live and
breathe.’

  ‘I’m not interested in fame; I just want you to get this wretch to Brick Lane. I’ll follow shortly. I need to make sure this poor woman is OK.’

  ‘Is she still alive, sir? I can see quite a bit of blood.’

  ‘I think she is. I’ll see to her. Get him into a cell as soon as you can. I’ll be there shortly to interrogate him myself.’

  Kosminski felt himself lifted from the floor as the world around him turned fuzzy.

  ~~~~

  Abberline and Jacqueline entered Brick Lane station to a herald of applause from the coppers who were working the late shift.

  ‘Three cheers for Inspector Abberline!’

  ‘We knew you’d get ‘im, sir’

  ‘We got the bastard, eh?’

  ‘Men, I think the time to celebrate is not too far into the future, but, before all that, we need to determine the man’s guilt. We cannot render him guilty just because he held a surgeon’s knife.’

  ‘Sir, we found this in his pocket too.’

  The policeman handed Abberline a small, folded razorblade. He flipped it open and it revealed a clean, sharp swathe of steel.

  ‘This is good work, officer. Now, I’d like to speak to the prisoner, alone. Could you please look after this lady, officer? Take care of her wounds. I think she’s going to be vital to this case. See if she wants a cup of tea, or a gin, or something.’

  ‘Righty-o, sir. She can sit in the mess room, there’s no one in there right now.’

  ‘Good man! Oh, officer, can you tell me how many men are in this station right now?’

  ‘About twelve, sir. May I ask why?’

  ‘Good, I just don’t trust this fella. There’s something about him, you know. I wanted to make sure that if he starts anything then we’ll be able to detain him.’

  ‘I understand, sir,’ the officer replied tipping his hat. ‘You won’t have anything to worry about anything on that score. I’ll personally keep an eye on him for you, if you like.’

  ‘That would be excellent, but first I want ten minutes with him, alone, in a room.’

  Abberline grabbed the stunned Kosminski and pulled him into an interrogation room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  ‘Abberline, what is going on?’ he hissed.

  ‘You, sir, are about to make history. You may become more famous than anyone has ever imagined. Maybe even bigger than The Beatles.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘Never mind, just sit down and shut up.’

  Kosminski did as he was told. Abberline opened the door and leaned out into the office. ‘Officer, where is the woman I brought in with me?’

  ‘She is in the mess, sir, drinking sweet tea laced with gin, just as you ordered.’

  ‘Right, listen to me. Be very careful with her, from the information I’ve just been given, she may well be an accomplice to these murders. He’s just confessed as much. I want you to put her in the cell.’

  ‘Sir, the cell’s full tonight, we’ve got three women on drunk and disorderly and criminal damage to The Ten Bells pub.’

  ‘I don’t care, officer. Put her in with them. Do it now, not a moment to waste. Oh, and I want you to send another two patrols out as well. If what this man is telling me is true, we’re going to have trouble in the Jewish quarter tonight.’

  ‘Another two patrols will leave only six officers in here, sir, to guard the prisoners.’

  ‘Officer, we have a cell full of drunk women and one male prisoner. What do you think is going to happen?’

  The officer bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at his commanding officer. He rolled his eyes and walked past the door, towards the mess. ‘Righty-o,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll get the woman in the cell, and then sort out the patrols straight away, sir.’

  ‘Good man,’ Abberline said as he closed the door on the policeman.

  ~~~~

  ‘Officer! Get in here right now! I require assistance,’ Abberline shouted from inside the room. ‘Help me now.’ The two officers on the front desk looked at each other, and the third who was at the paperwork desk stood up, straightened his tunic, and looked at his colleagues.

  ‘What is going on in there?’ one of them asked.

  As if in answer, a crash rang out from the room, as something was smashed inside, and Abberline gave a shout of pain.

  ‘Get in there,’ the desk officer shouted to his two colleagues. ‘See what’s going on.’

  Two of the officers raced into the interrogation room, truncheons drawn, ready for trouble.

  When they entered, Abberline was hiding behind the door. It closed behind the second officer and Abberline shot him with the stun setting on his extractor. The officer fell silently to the ground in an instant. Just as the first one was about to turn around, Abberline grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around his neck and cutting off the circulation to his brain just long enough to render him unconscious.

  He reached into the officer’s top pocket and removed his whistle. ‘Grab this,’ he whispered as he thrust it into Kosminski’s hand. ‘Take it and run out of this station, hit the desk officer if you must, but be quick.’ Abberline grabbed him by the face and stared into his eyes. ‘If you value your life, you’ll run, fast. When you get out, you blow that whistle, and you just keep going.’

  ‘But, what if—’ he stuttered.

  ‘But what if, nothing,’ Abberline replied curtly. ‘Do it now.’ He pushed the big man through the door and retreated into the room.

  The officer behind the desk watched, his jaw slacking. He stood up as Jack the Ripper came bounding out of the interrogation room. His eyes were as wild as his manic grin, but not as wild as his thick, black hair.

  ‘What the…’ was all he had time to utter before Kosminski was upon him. He grabbed him by the front of his tunic, looked him right in the eye, and then punched him in the face. The officer was on the floor nursing a bleeding mouth, before he even knew what had happened, and Kosminski was out of the door.

  The stricken officer quickly regained his composure and brushed himself down. He rubbed his chin and looked towards the room where the inspector was. He sighed, shook his head, and then shouted. ‘Escaped prisoner, escaped prisoner, in pursuit, need assistance.’

  Another officer came from the direction of the mess, holding a mug of tea, ‘What’s going on?’ he shouted.

  ‘Jack the Ripper’s escaped, we need to pursue.’

  The newcomer slammed his mug down on the front desk, spilling most of the contents over the various papers that were there. ‘If we go now, who’s left in the station?’ he asked, drawing his truncheon.

  ‘Griff’s in the back with Driscoll, they’re guarding the prisoners, and Inspector Abberline is in the office.’ he replied, absentmindedly forgetting that Jack the Ripper had just burst out of that office.

  ‘Come on, then,’ he shouted enthusiastically. ‘Let’s go.’

  As they made their way outside, they heard the report of a police whistle, the shrill sound was coming from the direction of Commercial Street, and, automatically, they both followed the sound.

  Kosminski was sweating and tired, but he was having fun. He was running, hiding, and blowing his whistle as if there was no tomorrow. He was enjoying sending the flatfoots on a merry goose chase.

  ~~~~

  Jacqueline was in the cell with the three other women. They were all huddled together on one end of the small room, and none of them would even look at her, never mind talk.

  I know more about every one of you than you probably know about yourselves, she thought. She observed the tall woman with the straight hair, hair that was now mostly grey. On the footage of her she’d seen, back in OP-One, her hair had been a deep dark brown, like milk chocolate. Her eyes were twitching this way and that, and Jacqueline noticed that she had very little left in the way of fingernails. Getting a little anxious are we, Carrie Millwood? You’re looking a little rough these days. Is it too much burden on you, the mass murder of nearly three billion peopl
e, and then the killing of seven of your closest friends?

  A commotion began outside the cell. She could hear shouting and running; she took this as her cue. ‘Help me, help me,’ she screamed. ‘They’re attacking me, get them off me, help please…’

  That was Abberline’s cue!

  She began shouting at the top of her voice. The three women turned to look at her at once.

  She smiled inwardly.

  Jacqueline heard the door to the cell room open, and she jumped in the middle of the three startled women and began thrashing about.

  Two officers piled in. ‘Oy, you lot, stop what you’re doing at once. Don’t make me come in there with you whores and start with this,’ the first officer shouted drawing out his truncheon.

  She kept on thrashing. It was clear that the other women were not at all comfortable with the mad woman.

  ‘OK, you were warned!’ the officer shouted and turned the key in the lock to the cell.

  As he did, Abberline burst through from the other room. He took out the officer closest to the door in the same manner that he had dispatched the other in the office. The policeman in the cell turned to see what was happening, and Jacqueline struck him from behind, pushing his head against the thick iron bars of the cell. The officer’s eyes glazed over as he fell to the floor.

  ‘Drag him out of the cell, and I’ll get the other one,’ she shouted to Abberline as she exited the cell. As soon as he was clear of the door, she closed it again, locking the three dumbfounded women inside.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said as she looked at them. They were all filthy, all wearing dishevelled clothing, and all looking like they didn’t have the slightest idea what was happening to them. As if butter wouldn’t melt. ‘Now I’ve got you just where I want you. These officers will be out of action for quite some time.’ She looked at the women, gazing into the faces of each one individually. ‘Speaking of time…’

  Realisation, mixed with horror, dawned on all their faces.