“We’ll find your sister.” His face was serious. “I promise.”
I wasn’t sure what was happening between Austen and me, but I knew one thing for certain. My friend had returned, just in time.
6
September 1, 1938
London, England
The following day, I found myself walking down the stone steps and into the basement of New Scotland Yard. This time, I was alone. Mr. McCaffrey had not arrived from Scotland, and Sir Rothschild had other matters to attend to. I’d been told a team was being assembled to put the exhibit together after Mr. McCaffrey and I laid out the design—but for now, I wanted to dive deep into the case and get familiar with the events that had taken place in 1888. It helped that I would experience it firsthand in my other path, but I also had the advantage of hindsight looking at it from 1938’s perspective.
“Good morning, Miss Voland,” PC Harrington said as I entered the first room. He was a handsome young man, about my age, with dark hair and brown eyes. His blue uniform was spotless, and based on the cleanliness and order of the Crime Museum, he took great pride in his work.
“Good morning,” I said. “I’m here to continue my research.”
“I’ve been expecting you.” He rose from his desk and motioned for me to follow him. “I hope you’ve found everything you need.”
We entered the room where I’d been working the previous dayin this path, and PC Harrington turned on the lights. The room was exactly as we’d left it.
“It must get lonesome down here,” I said as I took off my hat and set it on the table with my satchel.
“There are more visitors than you might imagine.” He smiled at me. “And there is a lot of work to be done, cataloging and accessioning items. With ten thousand police officers on the force and more crime than we can handle, there are new items coming in every day—not to mention those that are used as evidence in current cases. I manage it all.”
“That’s quite a job.”
He nodded. “But it’s the old cases, like the Ripper, that keep my interest. I like to study them in my spare time.”
“Have you done a lot of research on the Ripper case?” I asked, eager to speak to someone who knew more about the case than me.
“I have, but I didn’t think Sir Rothschild was interested in my opinions yesterday.”
I laid my hands on the back of a chair and shook my head. “I’m sorry about that. I’d love to hear your opinions, PC Harrington.”
“Please, call me Simon. At least when no one else is around.”
I smiled. “And I’m Kathryn.”
He motioned to one of the chairs at the table and said, “Mind if I sit?”
“Go ahead.” I opened my satchel and took out a notebook and a pencil and then sat on the chair across from him. “I have a feeling I’ll need to take notes.”
“I don’t claim to be an expert, mind you, but I’ve had enough time to examine a lot of theories.” Simon leaned forward, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “I think it’s safe to say that someone—or several people—spent a lot of time covering up after Jack the Ripper. Whoever he was, he had some powerful friends trying to keep his identity a secret. I’ve read many eyewitness accounts of the murder scenes, and dozens of people claimed to have seen the killer. Yet none of those people were ever brought in as witnesses during the inquests. Clues and evidence were destroyed,and other clues were brushed off. None of it makes sense. The killer should have been caught.”
I also leaned forward. “What are the theories?”
“The more popular theory is that it was a coverup concerning the royal family. That perhaps it was the lunatic grandson of the Queen or that Prince Albert Victor had sired a child with a Whitechapel prostitute and the victims were all witnesses.”
“But you don’t think those are true?”
“No. The murders were all done within a mile of each other, and whoever did it had to have good knowledge of the streets and alleyways. Since over thirty thousand people lived there at the time, it could literally be anyone.”
He went on to tell me about some of the more common suspects, and I took notes as he spoke.
When he told me all that he knew, I had more questions about the victims and tried not to seem unusually interested in Mary Jane Kelly. “The first four women have a lot of similarities,” I said. “Their age, living conditions, and even the way they were murdered. Why was the fifth victim different?”
“I think it was all about opportunity,” he said. “The first four women were basically homeless, trying to make their doss money each day to have a place to stay. They worked on the street, and that’s where Jack found them. His murders had to be quick because there was no privacy in Whitechapel. Mary Jane Kelly was the only one who had her own room, so Jack took the opportunity to murder her in the privacy of her home, where he wouldn’t be interrupted.”
“Do you think they were random murders?”
