Free A Study in Red - The Secret Journal of Jack the Ripper by kindels Page B

from my chair. I was getting stiff again, and needed to stretch and relax my limbs. For the first time in what seemed ages ago, I checked the time. It was only eight o'clock. It certainly felt much later, it was pitch black outside the window, the wind had managed to blow itself up into a wicked storm, and rain had begun to lash the panes. If ever a night was fit for the revelations of one of the most evil killers ever to evade British justice, I felt that this was it. The moon had been obliterated by cloud, and there was little or no natural light visible through the window. I felt cut off from reality, from the world of 'normal' society, much as the writer of the journal must have felt during that awful, terrifying autumn so long ago. I was on my own, with no-one to talk to, just my own thoughts and fears for company. To tell the truth, reading the journal had a profound effect upon me, far greater than I would ever have thought possible. I'd never been a fanciful person, not given to thoughts of the supernatural, and certainly not easily spooked by things I didn't understand, but I was more than a little unsettled as I paced around my study, trying to increase the circulation in my stiff and aching joints. Every sound in the room, from the ticking of the clock to the rain against the window panes was being amplified inside my head, the tension of the written words, and the loneliness of my situation only serving to add to the overall feeling of detachment. There was a similarity in our situations that wouldn't easily leave me, which I simply couldn't dismiss.
    How many nights, I wondered, had he sat in his room alone, as I was at that moment, surrounded by the sounds of the night, with just his twisted thoughts for company? He may have welcomed the voices in his head, they were his solace, his companions, and he felt less alone when they were there with him. Thank God, I had Sarah, our parting was only temporary, I had never been alone in my life, and I dreaded to think of how lonely a life could be if one were so isolated from society, from friends and family, that one could possibly begin to retreat into a fantasy world, where imagined voices in the head could take on the reality of an individual's only confidantes, a person's only 'friends'.
    He'd stated towards the end of this latest entry it wouldn't be long until he struck again. A glance at my notes told me that it would, in fact, be a day over three weeks before the next Ripper murder, so assuming him to be telling the truth as he saw it at the time, something must have happened to delay his next foray into the dark streets of Whitechapel. Only the journal could tell me, and yet, I was becoming so tired, my eyes were heavy. There were too many pages in the journal still to go. I'd never stay awake long enough to absorb them all, not accurately. I needed sleep, perhaps after a few hours in bed, I'd be able to start refreshed, be less affected by the things I was reading, and approach the horrors of the Ripper murders with more logic and detachment than I was feeling at the moment.
    I promised myself that I'd read just one more page, just one, then I'd retire to the bedroom and grab a few hours of much-needed sleep. As I turned the page and looked at the date, I noticed he'd missed a day.
    10 th September 1888
    Almost slept the clock round. Been working much too hard. My, but the streets are alive with people. Walked amongst the throng in Whitechapel, poor lame fools. They think they can catch 'Leather Apron' just by walking the streets and shouting for justice! Never mind, haha, I cried for justice too. Berated some poor fool constable for not catching the awful fiend, "Why officer, can you not catch this evil malodorous person in our midst? Have you police no clue?"
    "Move along, sir, move along, now you just let us do our work, and you see to your own, we'll catch the killer, never you fear."
    I could have laughed aloud , there in his face. But he told me to go on