I See You, Jack! Chapter 26
Created | Updated Jul 13, 2024
I See You, Jack!
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Chapter 26
The evening had started well enough.
He'd parked the Audi in the Albert Dock, strolled up through Chavasse Park and into the city centre, ignored by the throngs of shoppers.
Up the hill towards Bold Street and into the older part of town. Gaudy shops and student accommodation giving way to the beautiful old buildings.
He'd ducked into Roscoe Lane, taken the cape, hat and cane from his bag and pressed the watch.
Glorious lamplight!
A short walk and he was at his target's location. There she was!
Betty Hill, 24 years of age, would Transcend tonight.
She stood, opposite the alehouse, swaying and seemingly singing to herself.
He waited until the two drunkards had staggered down the cobbles, shouting and swearing, the uncouth louts turning the corner, then all was quiet.
The tap tap of cane on pavement, in time with his strides. How he loved this time, this place.
He took the sovereign from his waistcoat, guiding her towards the nearby delivery bays with a nod of his head.
She smiled her consent, batting her lashes, sealing the deal. She was still humming to herself as he followed her into the dark, fingers opening the pearl-handled razor.
Reaching a stack of barrels and kegs, Betty pulled at her skirts, hitching the material over her boot tops, showing stocking and flesh.
His arm drew back and out, the metal catching the dim light in the yard.
His other hand gripped the back of her head, tilting it back, exposing the only flesh he was interested in.
Her throat taut, the wickedly sharp blade arced through the night.
Betty screamed.
The razor stopping inches from her neck. Big Pat's fingers clamping vice-like around his forearm.
Spinning him around to face the policeman.
'You've picked the wrong bloody girl, bucko!'
Riding was briefly aware of the truncheon in the man's other hand. He heard the swish of air and felt the fourteen inches of painted oak connect with his head. Then Riding went down in a whirlwind of wood, boots, and whistles.
He'd been taken to the Main Bridewell after his arrest. The Custody Sergeant not even commenting on his bloodied appearance, as he was booked in and literally thrown into a cell.
A very brief (my, how times had changed!) interview, and he was swiftly charged with the attempted murder of Betty Hill and the murders of eight other girls. The London police were also waiting to speak to him about five other murders in the Whitechapel area of London.
Riding was eventually seen by the Police Surgeon, his head patched up and he was pronounced fit for custody and trial.
He stood at the bloody sink in the examination room, wincing as he washed the blood from his hands and face, gently prodding the huge duck egg bump on his head in the bolted-on metal mirror.
The Doctor packed up, telling the officers they could take him to the Sheriff, then Assizes in the morning.
On his way out, he turned towards Riding, spitting out, 'I knew all of those poor lasses. I hope you get the bloody rope, Ripper.'
Riding actually smiled back at him. He felt almost elated. Confused at the sense of relief he felt.
Then it came to him.
He'd finally solved the mystery. He stood back from the sink, taking in the bloodied monster in the mirror.
'I see you, Jack!'
