Ripper by Amy Carol Reeves

Author:Amy Carol Reeves
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: teen, young adult, ya fiction, young adult fiction, paranormal, historical fiction, Jack the Ripper, murder, mystery
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2012-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

T he next morning at the hospital, I tried to push the meeting with Abberline out of my mind—that image of the floating kidney—and focus instead on my tasks. But that letter, and the writer’s claim that he had eaten half of the kidney, saving and mailing it … I shuddered every time I thought of it. The killer was certainly more than a lunatic to be able to murder, escape the police this easily, and then taunt them as he was. Abberline was probably right that the killer was a psychopath, someone shrewd, cunning, and methodical.

But I didn’t understand why Abberline was so convinced that the Ripper worked at Whitechapel Hospital. Like William, I did not believe that anyone I worked with was the Ripper. I didn’t want to be stupidly naïve; if the Ripper was as much of a mastermind as Abberline supposed him to be, he would blend in—he would be able to charm. To amuse. But at Whitechapel Hospital, we were all too busy to plan and carry out such a game. Furthermore, everyone had such excellent rapport with Dr. Bartlett and Dr. Buck—why would someone who worked there want to soil the hospital’s reputation by killing its patients?

I wondered why Abberline felt so adamantly that the Ripper worked in Whitechapel Hospital specifically. London had other hospitals, and dozens of medical students and physicians. Certainly Abberline, with all of his years of detective experience, must have thought of this. Perhaps he had withheld something from me, some further proof that the murderer worked at the hospital.

I did not trust him. Inspector Abberline had said that he would be my “friend” if I worked with him. But after leaving Scotland Yard, I didn’t regret for an instant my refusal to work with him. His first and foremost concern was not me, and certainly not Whitechapel Hospital. What he wanted most was to catch the killer.

Although there had not been any more killings, Scotland Yard police were still patrolling in and around the hospital. I vowed to avoid Inspector Abberline whenever he appeared there. I understood that he was interested in me because I was involved with the staff, patients, and happenings at Whitechapel Hospital at a level that he could not be. Nonetheless, I still did not want to involve myself.

Ironically, publicity from the killings was bringing us more volunteers. We had more nurses now than before. Several volunteers came from local parish churches. The newspaper stories and letters to the editor, such as Perkins’s, were raising awareness of life in the East End. This had not only inspired the extra volunteers, but we were also receiving significant money and supply donations. Even New Hospital was sympathetic, sending us a large shipment of medical supplies. I hoped rather than believed that this outpouring of generosity would continue even after the papers finally grew tired of covering Whitechapel stories.

That morning, I finally got a chance to confront William about his behavior prior to our arrest with Scribby. I

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