“I just want to know what time you went home,” said Roosevelt.
“Two o’clock or so.”
“The first of them wasn’t killed until almost three.”
“Well, it weren’t me!” snapped Shrank. “I didn’t kill no bloody women!”
“I never said you did,” said Roosevelt.
“Then why all the questions?”
“Because the one night you didn’t make the rounds with me, the Ripper claimed two more victims. I think I should at least inquire after your whereabouts.”
“Where was you?” shot back Shrank.
“I was in bed when Elizabeth Stride was murdered, but I was in Captain Hughes’ company when Catherine Eddowes was killed,” replied Roosevelt.
“So are you saying I done it or not?” said Shrank belligerently, his hands balled into massive fists.
Roosevelt stared long and hard at the man, then sighed. “No, I’m not.”
“Good!” said Shrank. “And just to show there’s no hard feelings, I’ll let you buy me a pint of ale.”
Roosevelt nodded to the bartender. “And I’ll take a cup of coffee.”
“Ain’t got no coffee, Mr. Roosevelt,” said the bartender. “How about a cup of tea?”
“That’ll do,” said Roosevelt, walking over to a table and sitting down.
“Now we’re friends again, what made you decide I ain’t the Ripper?” asked Shrank.
“Your education.”
“What education?” laughed Shrank. “I ain’t never been to school in my life!”
“That education,” said Roosevelt. “If you killed someone, could you find the spleen?”
“What’s a spleen?”
“How about the pancreas?”
“Never heard of them.”
“Point to where you think my lungs are.”
Shrank pointed.
“There’s your answer,” said Roosevelt. “The Ripper knows where those organs are.”
“How do you know I’m not lying?” said Shrank.
“Where would you have learned?”
“Maybe I read it in a book.”
“Can you read?”
Suddenly Shrank laughed aloud. “Not a word!”
Roosevelt smiled. “One more reason why you’re not the Ripper.”
“One more?” repeated Shrank. “What was the first?”
“I’ve seen you get winded walking three blocks. The Ripper ran for at least half a mile last night and eluded some very fit pursuers.”
“Then why’d you come in asking questions like that?”
“I’m just being thorough.”
“I thunk we was friends — mates, you might say,” said Shrank.
“We are. But if you were the Ripper, that wouldn’t stop me from putting you away.”
“At least you give a damn. I can’t say as much for the rest of ‘em.”
“You mean the police?” responded Roosevelt. “You misjudge them. They’ve got hundreds of men working on the case.”
“Only because the press keeps goading ‘em,” said Shrank. “But they don’t care about us or Whitechapel. They’ll catch the Ripper and then cross us off the map again.”
“What do you think would make them do something about Whitechapel?” asked Roosevelt.
“It’ll sound balmy — but as long as Saucy Jack’s around, they pay attention to us. Maybe having him ain’t such a bad thing after all.” Shrank laughed bitterly. “He slices up another 40 or 50 women, they might clean this place up and turn it into Hyde Park.”
“No,” said the bartender with a smile. “Mayfair.”
“You really think so?” asked Roosevelt.
“Nobody paid no attention to us before the Ripper, Mr. Roosevelt, and that’s a fact,” said the bartender.
“That’s a very interesting outlook,” said Roosevelt. “But I’ll keep trying to catch him anyway.”
“Maybe old Jack is really your pal Hughes,” offered Shrank. “Y’know, he’s always the first one at the body.”
Roosevelt shook his head. “I was with him when the second woman was killed last night.”
“It’s a puzzle, all right.”
“There are a lot of puzzles in this case,” said Roosevelt.
“You mean, besides who is he?” said Shrank.
“Yes,” said Roosevelt. He frowned again. For example, he thought, why would he have walked off with Catherine Eddowes’ kidney?
It took 16 days for Roosevelt to get his answer. Then Hughes summoned him and showed him a crudely scrawled message that had been sent to George Lusk, the head of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee.
“From Hell, Mr. Lusk —
Sir, I send you half the Kidne I took from one woman,
prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was
very nise I may send you the bloody knif that too it out
if you only wate a whil longer
signed Catch me when yu can Mishter Lusk”
— Jack the Ripper
October 16, 1888
“Well, at least now we know why the kidney was missing,” said Hughes. A look of disgust crossed his face. “Do you really think he ate it?”
Roosevelt shrugged. “Who knows? He’s certainly capable of eating it.” He stared at the letter. “Does the handwriting match the previous messages?”
Hughes nodded. “It’s the same man, all right.”
Roosevelt lowered his head in thought for a moment. “All right,” he said. “Here’s what you must do. Make copies of that letter and give it to every newspaper in London.”
“We can’t do that, Theodore! There would be widespread panic.”
“I hope so.”
“I beg your pardon!” said Hughes heatedly.
“Try to understand, John,” said Roosevelt. “Everyone in Whitechapel has been aware of the Ripper for more than a month. Prostitutes know that they’re his quarry, and yet they continue to ply their trade and put themselves at risk. Maybe if they read this, if they get a brief peek into the mind of this madman, we can keep them off the streets until he’s apprehended.”
“Keep prostitutes off the streets?” laughed a nearby policeman. “You might as well try to keep the sun from rising.”
“It’s that, or prepare yourselves for more murders.”
“It’s not my decision to make,” replied Hughes. “You’ve been working on this case at my request, and I’ve been your sole contact, so you can be forgiven for thinking that I’m in charge…but in point of fact we have more than 500 police officers working around the clock on the Ripper murders. I’ll have to go through channels before we can get it published.”
“What if I just took it to the papers, and said that I hadn’t told you what I’d planned?”
“You’d be on the first ship back to America, and I doubt that your presence would ever be tolerated in England again.”
That’s no great loss in a land that worships royalty and allows something like Whitechapel to exist, thought Roosevelt. Aloud he said, “All right, John — but hurry! The sooner this is made known to the press, the better.”
Hughes picked up the letter and stared at it. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.
“So will we all,” replied Roosevelt.
Nothing happened.
A day passed, then a week, then three. The police again began suggesting that the Ripper might have been killed by some other member of the criminal class — there were enough stabbings and bludgeonings in Whitechapel and on the waterfront to write fini to a dozen Rippers.