Free Jack The Ripper: Newly Discovered Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Holy Ghost Writer Page B

her, but she didn’t know any other way to get by.”
    “Did you hear any strange noises last night?” Holmes asked.
    “Nothing out of the ordinary—no screams or struggles, if that’s what you mean.”
    “I am ready to take a break,” Holmes told Dr. Watson as they walked away from Julia. “I have been at this for a long time and need a hearty meal to see me through the rest of the day.”
    The men walked down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine. There were still many people standing around watching the house. As they neared the sidewalk Holmes saw a short, stocky man who looked familiar to him.
     
     
     

 
    CHAPTER TWELVE
    Plan in Review
     
    “Mr. Hamilton,” Holmes said to the man in the suit, inclining his head slightly to acknowledge the presence of his friend.
    “Hello Detective,” Donald Hamilton said to him.
    “I am not used to seeing you dressed in everyday attire. What brought you here today?”
    “Well, I was not working today and I heard of the new murder. I wanted to see where it took place. I guess I am playing amateur detective in trying to solve these cases. I see the dead, but rarely the site of the killings,” Hamilton told them.
    “Have you noticed anything suspicious?” Holmes asked.
    “No, not really. I have seen several men standing around, but most of them are probably old clients, friends, or merely spectators drawn by the tragedy.”
    “Well, if you see anything out of the ordinary, please let me know. You know where I am most hours of the day,” Holmes said. “Both Dr. Watson and I have burned more than our share of midnight oil in the past few weeks.”
    “He could be a big help to you,” Dr. Watson told his friend as they left the boarding house. “Do you trust him?”
    “As much as I trust anyone right now, my friend—which is to say, ‘no.’ But that does not mean he cannot be my ears inside the coroner’s office.”
    “You are a master of getting information out of people without them fully realizing they are giving it,” said Dr. Watson. “It’s a skill I have always admired.”
    The men took Dr. Watson’s carriage to their favorite pub in the heart of London. They ordered a good lunch and talked about the case. There was a staggering amount of information to review and more witnesses to interrogate. Holmes still needed to review the list of suspects, and the witness’ contradicting statements about the possible perpetrator’s appearance were frustrating. Most of the witnesses had said he was short with a mustache, but some said he was well-dressed, and others said he was not. Some reported he had been carrying a bag or other object, and some said he had not been carrying anything. Even worse, Holmes knew that the descriptions could be completely useless—the man (or men) described might have been clients, rather than the killer.
    Holmes decided for the time being to focus on the coroner’s report on the latest victim. Mary Jane was the first to have been killed inside a dwelling. That made it unique. She was lying on the bed, her head turned to the left, as were all the others. Her left arm was across her stomach, with the right arm outstretched to the right across the mattress. Her legs were spread apart with knees bent. The entirety of her insides had been scooped out, her breasts had been cut off, and she had many jagged incisions on her body from a knife. Her organs were laying around her body…her liver between her feet, a breast under her arm…it was all arranged to create a horrific scene. The killer had really done a job on this poor woman.
    Her face had been mutilated, made unrecognizable. Her neck, hands, and legs were covered in gashes. Almost every inch of her body was grotesquely mutilated as if she were a piece of meat. She had almost been skinned. It must have taken hours. Her last meal had been fish and potatoes and was partially digested. The carotid artery had been sliced while she lay on her side, and it was this cut that