"Michael, have you seen the papers?'

Blood winced. It was the sixth or seventh time that morning that someone had

asked him if he'd seen the papers. "Yes, sir, I'm afraid I have."

"I've had reporters calling in all morning," said the superintendent. "I've

managed to avoid them so far, but I suppose I'm going to have to tell them

something sooner or later, so I thought I'd call and find out just what the

hell

is going on. What is this Ripper business, anyway? First I've heard of it."

"It apparently started with the murder of a young prostitute in Whitechapel

the

day before yesterday, sir, as reported in the press," Blood said. "Her name

was

Mary Spring. They got that right, at least. Gruesome business. Stabbed with a

very sharp knife, possibly a number of different knives, which has led to

some

conjecture that we may have more man one killer, but there's nothing firm on

that at the moment, one way or the other. Several of the papers claim that a

man

was spotted running from the scene, but frankly I think that's a load of

rubbish. We haven't been able to find any witnesses at all. And then

yesterday,

the body of another prostitute named Annie Saylor was discovered in her flat.

Again, stabbed numerous times, apparently killed on the same night as Mary

Spring. In both cases the bodies were severely mutilated. In the Saylor case

there was blood spray everywhere, internal organs flung about the room—"

"Christ, Michael, spare me the details," the superintendent said. "I'm having

breakfast."

"Sorry, sir," said Blood. "I'll have the reports sent to your office. In any

case, some bright boy or girl on Fleet Street saw fit to do a bit of

homework,

and they came up with a series of brutal, unsolved murders that occurred in

Whitechapel in 1888—"

"1888?" said the superintendent.

"Yes, sir, the so-called Whitechapel Murders, allegedly committed by a man

calling himself Jack the Ripper, also known as Saucy Jack and Springheel

Jack—"

"Wait just a moment," said the superintendent. "You did say 1888?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct. Anyway, to continue, the six victims in those

cases

were also prostitutes, all except one, and they were all killed within a

one-square-mile area of Whitechapel, each body found with a slashed throat

and

precise, almost surgical mutilations—"

"Michael, for God's sake!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Are you seriously telling me that the papers are making a connection between

these two murders of yours and something that happened in the nineteenth