Prologue:


 Jack the Ripper is the name that has been given to an unidentified serial killer responsible for murders occurring in the impoverished Whitechapel section of London in 1888. "Jack the Ripper" became the first internationally known serial killer. The name Jack the Ripper comes from the signature of a letter, dated 25 September, 1888, and received by the Central News Agency on 27 September, 1888.

There were 11 murders of prostitutes in the Whitechapel area from 1888 to 1891, known as the Whitechapel Murders. Five of these are commonly identified as the Jack the Ripper murders. Those of Mary Ann Nichols at Buck's Row, Whitechapel, on Friday 31 August 1888, Annie Chapman at Rear Yard at 29 Hanbury Street, Spitalfields on Saturday 8 September 1888, Elizabeth Stride at the yard at side of 40 Berner Street,  St Georges-in-the-East on Sunday 30 September 1888, Catherine Eddowes at Mitre Square, Aldgate, City of London on Sunday 30 September 1888 and Mary Jane Kelly at 13 Miller's Court,  26 Dorset Street Spitalfields on Friday 9 November 1888.

All Jack the Ripper murders took place in a one square mile area of the East End and the City of London surrounding Whitechapel.

Time : !.30 am

Place : 

Miller’s Court, Christ Church, London 

 It was a cold, foggy November night. The street was almost deserted ,but for a few coaches passing by occasionally. A tall, lone figure was walking hastily,his head bowed,.His footfalls echoed on the cobblestones.The thick mist swirled around him as he made his way along the deserted street.
“Feeling naughty tonight, Sir?”asked a  seductive, husky  voice.coming from the shadows of an alleyway . It was addressed to the tall man who was passing by. From his bearing having a top hat and a long overcoat The prostitute figured he was a “gentle man” possibly on his way home.
The man stopped as she emerged from the alleyway.His face was shadowed by the brim of his hat. .
She was a bit on the plump side in her twenties, wearing a fur collared ,well worn brown frock that fell to her ankles. She had a small artificial dot on a side of her red , pouted lips and smelled of cheap liquor.
The man sized her up quickly and asked in a well modulated voice “How much?”
The prostitute smiled, showing a missing tooth,
 ‘For you, Sir, two Shillings!’ she responded hopefully.
“Slut!”He thought furiously. recognizing her at last
“Where shall we go?" He asked bluntly .
“I have a little room at the back “she replied softly,” Follow me “
The man clutched the handle of the little black bag he carried firmly.

The room was approximately 12 feet square. Opposite the door was a fireplace. On the left of the door and at right angles to it were two windows, one of which was close enough to the door as to be able to reach through it and unbolt the door. To the right of the door was a bedside table so close that the door would hit it when opened. Next to the table was a bed with the head against the door wall, its side against the right wall. The room contained two tables and a chair and a cheap print entitled "The Fisherman's widow" hanging over the fireplace. Opposite the fireplace was a small cupboard which contained cheap crockery, empty ginger beer bottles and a little stale bread.
“The money first, please” she requested politely.
“Money ? ah yes.” the man replied evenly. He set the bag down on the bed and turned his back to her as she began undressing.
The man fumbled round a bit ,then turned suddenly.He held a straight edged razor in his gloved hand ." You?' she cried, recognizing the man., then froze with terrror at the sight of the straight edge razor he held in his gloved hand. She tried to get away , but the man quickly grabbed her and with a deft stroke,slit her throat .He then threw her on the bed.

"Slut! "He screamed as he began slashing at her face "You must die, slut !," he raged," Die, like the rest of them!"and he went into a frenzy.. A few minutes later, his rage abated,He left and disappeared into the night.

Later , the police on patrol found the body covered with blood.The walls of the room was spattered with blood, He had repeatedly slashed her face and sliced off her nose and ears and set on a bedside table. Along with her nose and ears lay her heart, kidneys and her breasts. He had gutted her as well..It was the most horrific of all the previous murders.

In a small Inn on White chapel Road, a doctor entered the premises.The owner, Sims, greeted him as he entered and asked pleasantly ,“The usual ,Doc,?"

Walking across to his favourite table, he sat down
The man nodded, “As usual, Sims "and smiled.
Sims went into the kitchen and returned shortly with a mug of tea ,cup and saucer and set them down on the table.
“ Anodder one, Doctor “,said  Sims sadly “ Can’t see why the bloody cops can’t catch ‘im, I can’t wait to see the culprit, five orready, and all dem poor girls did was hustle their living, gor, it’s a bloody shame! I hope we catch “im soon! ”He said in derision. Sims was also a member of The Whitechapel Vigilance Committee that helped the police patrol the streets at night ,looking for the killer.
“Yes,  Sims, I hope so too, sad Indeed.” he replied evenly
",Well, doc, 'cuse me,said Sims," I have to go prepare for the day,"

The doctor nodded.

Finishing his tea ,the doctor  got up .The place was now filling with the usual morning crowd . Some recognized him and nodded a respectful “Good morning,doctor,”
The doctor returned their nods then said ”Well, Sims, I must be going.”and got up.
“"ave a good day, Doc, see you tomorrow ” replied Sims politely from behind the counter and went about tending the other regular customers.

The doctor left the Inn and went further down the narrow cobbled street to his practice.

A week later after the murder of Kelly. The doctor was in his flat beside the fire place. He was deep in thought. “Some how, he’s got to end this torment” he told himself .He knew what he must do .Finally,after much thought, He went over to his desk ,took out a pen and a sheet of paper and wrote:.

“To anyone who finds this note. I cannot go on like this. The torment is too much and weighs heavily on my soul. I cannot carry this secret for the rest of my life . I must now put an end to it. I confess that I am responsible for the last five recent  murders here in Whitechapel namely that of Mary Nichols ,Anne Chapman, Cathrine Eddoes ,Elizabeth Stride and finally ,Mary Kelly in Spitalsfield ,the woman I was searching for, who not only robbed me, but also gave me the dreaded disease ..Infected with that dreaded curse given to me I was bent on revenge,until I found her again ,but It later proved too strenuous for my conscience.I have much remorse for what I did to tthe women and may all forgive me. Signed John Wester ,MD, FRCS.

He then went over to a table in the tiny kitchen, and took out a bag of stones that he got from a nearby construction site earlier that day and put them into his coat pockets .He then went outdoors into the cold fog that shrouded the night. Instinctively,He pulled up his collar from the cold, and walked to the bridge as he had planned.
Having found the long bridge over the Thames , he stopped a while ,took a last look around, and jumped into the dark, murky  waters below.

The Whitechapel Murders ceased


Copyright 2005 Michael Lance Kersting