Felicity Carrol and the Murderous Menace by Patricia Marcantonio

Author:Patricia Marcantonio [Marcantonio, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Judging by his face, Sheriff Tom Pike might have been staring perdition squarely in the eye. “Lord Almighty. What is this?”

“Murder,” Felicity replied.

In her crime laboratory, Felicity stood by the exhibit like a teacher of death. Using string, she had divided one wall into five separate spaces. In each space, she had pinned newspaper clippings about the five Whitechapel murders as well as copies of the police photographs of the bodies. Under the information about the earliest victim in London, Mary Ann Nichols, Felicity had posted the newspaper clippings about Lily Rawlins’s murder and photographs of the alley where her body had been discovered in Placer. Next to that were clippings and photographs of the second Whitechapel victim, Annie Chapman. Underneath were the grisly photographs of the deceased Mattie Morgan, along with the drawing Felicity had sketched indicating the placement of wounds.

In the three remaining spaces were the Times clippings about the other Whitechapel murders, along with coroner photographs of victims Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes and the gruesome photograph of the remains of Mary Jane Kelly at Thirteen Miller’s Court. Beneath sat a long shelf holding five neat stacks of papers.

On another wall was a map of Whitechapel with hat pins where the bodies had been discovered. Red ink dots on a map of Placer illustrated the sites of the murders of Lily Rawlins and Mattie Morgan.

“Over the course of four months last year, five prostitutes were savagely murdered in or near an area of the East End of London called Whitechapel,” Felicity said. “The whole of Scotland Yard focused on the crimes. Hundreds of people and suspects were interviewed, but the killer was never apprehended. He vanished like a London fog.”

“My God.” His eyes didn’t leave the photographs on the wall.

“Sheriff.”

He faced her.

“You should know there’s another name for the Whitechapel killer.”

“What?”

“Jack the Ripper.”

He said nothing, which made her nervous.

“You have heard of Jack the Ripper?”

Pike crossed, then uncrossed his arms. “Placer may be remote, but we’re not the end of the damn world.”

“Good, then you are familiar.”

“You’re talking about the Jack the Ripper?”

“The same.”

“What does this have to do with my town?” His hand shot out toward the photographs of the London victims.

She took a breath before answering. “I believe Jack the Ripper has come to Placer.”

His eyes again went to the wall.

“I’ve uncovered solid correlations between the slaying of Mattie Morgan, Lily Rawlins, and the five victims in Whitechapel, England.” She had said out loud what she suspected and feared.

Pike shook his head so hard, strands of his longish dark hair fell into his eyes. He shoved them back behind his ears. “It can’t be.”

“I assure you it can.”

“Why are you so dang sure it might be him?”

“Because of the manner in which the crimes were committed both in London and in Placer. For each of the Whitechapel murders, I have copies of reports from the Scotland Yard investigations, postmortems, and inquests.” Felicity held up one stack of papers. “I also have photographs of the letters written by Jack the Ripper.

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