Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Both women had cuts on their throats and abdomens, as well as intestines placed over their right shoulders. Yet, he’d removed the second victim’s left kidney and uterus.
Why was he so fascinated with those body parts?
Intestines had never been my thing. They looked so much like snakes, and I hated serpents. Old horror flicks taught you to hate snakes and Catholicism. All those demons sliding on the earth to eat our innocent souls.
No.
I never had a thing for intestines, but Ripper loved them, relished in removing them with precision and laying them carefully on the corpse’s shoulder.
I bet a melody played in his head.
He’d gone overboard on one of the last ones, sliced her throat completely, ear to ear. He hacked off her breasts and mutilated the woman’s face well past recognition.
He’d wielded art with his knife.
Displaying his surgeon skills, he removed her uterus, kidneys, and her breasts. He placed one tit under her head, and the other under her foot. For some odd reason, he set her liver between her feet.
How much time did he have?
His signature remained, intestines on her shoulder, but he’d gotten wilder. Ripper set her spleen on her left and flaps of skin on the bedside table. He’d cut off parts of her eyebrows, nose, cheeks, and ears.
But most important, he’d cut her heart from its veiny binds and taken it far away from the scene.
Every book I’ve read never discussed this detail.
Ripper had taken the heart away!
Why the heart?
For all the others, that organ remained in their chest, but for some reason on that particular whore, he’d done something with it. No one pursued that fact further. They ignored the symbolism.
The lovely, subtle nuance of love in the mind of a madman.
That victim was the one that broke his heart.
Evil men do bad things over love.
Had they considered that mere point, they might’ve solved all of the murders. But investigating death makes many a callous people, and by the time that victim surfaced, they’d probably lost their love for humanity.
Ripper had hardened them.
And who could’ve done it? I had my suspects. The police pointed to so many people from Prince Albert to the famous painter Walter Sickert.
No one proved to be Ripper.
Then there was the clue dropped in the middle of East End. Ripper had tossed a cloth in a dark passageway. The police found it, and when the constable raised his lantern to the wall where the cloth was discovered, a message decorated the break.
“The Jews are the men that will not be blamed for nothing.”
Clearly he meant Jewish men, but why did he mention them, the police wondered. I knew as I always did. He hoped it would be seen as anti-Semitic. He was being tricky. I believe he was Jewish, a particular butcher named “Leather Apron.”
And Benny rambled on and on. It gave me no doubt that the sicko would want to go on the tour. Even better, Jasmine confirmed it in our last phone call.
And due to your fascination, Benny, I’ll trap you.
As my limo headed to Dr. Breaton’s tour site, my phone rang. I expected my father’s image to come up on the screen or maybe Troy’s unidentified number signal.
That time, security called.
I answered the phone, “Yes.”
“We’ve spotted Ms. Jasmine Montgomery.”
“Where?” I sat up in the seat, ready to jump out of the car, if necessary.
“The Breaton Tour for Jack the Ripper. Ms. Montgomery is standing at the entrance with the other patrons. The person you identified as—”
“Is Benny there?”
“Yes, sir. He is the man on her right. Another man stands on her left. He is of an old age with scars all over his face.”
“And her brother or—”
“No one else is with Ms. Jasmine Montgomery besides the one identified as Benny and the other guy I just mentioned.”
“There’s no tall black guy there, thinking with his eyes?”
“No, sir.”
“What about a short white girl with blonde hair?”
“No, sir.”
This is a set-up. Benny must’ve heard our phone call. He’s expecting me to show up, and save the day.
“What do you want us to do, sir?”
I let out a long breath. “Keep your target on his skull, and if you have a clean shot that won’t put Jasmine in danger, then go for it. If not, wait there, until I arrive.”
“Should we go to plan B, sir?”
“Definitely. And make sure everybody knows their parts.”
Let’s end this tonight.
Chapter 22
Jasmine
Benny and I waited for the tour to begin.
Buildings surrounded us. Bright stars dotted the London sky. Stormy clouds hovered over us. The moon lay full and stark white, almost showing off its glow. The one night in this godforsaken city that Troy no longer walked earth, and it didn’t storm.
I wouldn’t have minded a downpour. Something cold and dark, booming thunder and laser hot lightning. I would’ve welcomed cold rain.
For once, the weather would’ve symbolized how my insides felt.