Dear Mr, Rover:
I remember with pleasure our meeting at your lecture in Whitechapel.
I know that my niece Susan enjoyed her travels on your mystery tour, and we are grateful for your expression of sympathy to the family. We want you to know that we do not blame you in any way for her death, which the London police assure us was a tragic accident.
Please accept the enclosed donation from her estate for the Ripper project that we spoke of at our dinner together. I wonder if you remember how I like my steak.
Yours sincerely,
Aaron Kosminski
Enclosed in the letter was a check for fifteen thousand pounds, the remainder of the agreed-upon sum for the killing. For almost thirty seconds Rowan toyed with the idea of destroying the check, but a recent spate of financial ultimatums dissuaded him. After all, he reasoned, Kosminski is guiltier than I am. Why should he receive all the ill-gotten loot? He decided to send a present to Emma Smith, who was recovering nicely in Colorado, and to give some of the money to charity in Cornwall. The rest would be distributed among his needy creditors. The wages of sin, he decided, were minimal, all things considered.
The final paragraph of the letter puzzled Rowan Rover for quite some time, since he clearly remembered that he and Kosminski had not dined together. Their only meeting had been over drinks in the Aldgate pub. Finally the reference to the steak enlightened him, and he was able to decipher Kos-minski’s own encoded comment: well done.
Sharyn McCrumb
