|
 |
 |
|
|
|
| Author |
Message |
    
ex PFC Wintergreen
Unregistered guest
| | Posted on Sunday, December 25, 2005 - 5:11 pm: | 
|
Here's a story I wrote a while ago and posted but nobody read it. So I'm sticking it on this new thread to force you all to read it if I have to stick it down your throats.
William Bury was a large gruff looking man and when he slammed his glass down on the bar there was a considerable shake. “And another,” he sneered.
“Now Bury, you’ve really had quite a few, maybe it’s time you stopped,” said Vic the wise old barman
“No,” growled the tired merchant “I need all I can for my work tonight,”
“Oh,” said Vic mopping up the mess Bury had spilled “And what are you working on tonight that requires this much drink? You getting paid to piss on the homeless? Because I once considered that mysel-”
“No you old coot,” cried Bury “I’m gonna be out a murderin’ tonight,”
“Murdering?” queried Vic “Well you wanna be careful, you might be confused for that Jack the Ripper fellow,”
“I am that Jack the Ripper fellow,” barked Bury
“Oh well that’s alright then, if you get confused for him it won’t be such a miscarriage of justice,” smiled Vic.
“Greetings all!” sang the harmonic American voice of a large moustachioed fellow “A fair evening I must say, barkeep a tall glass of bourbon to be sent my way,”
“Ah Dr Tumblety,” said Vic to the man who just came in “Young Mr Bury here was telling me how he was Jack the Ripper, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, and wacha gonna do about that yankee?” spat Bury
“Well I have to say I’m quite aghast at the suggestion,” admitted Tumblety “And I simply don’t believe you, you see it is I who is the real Jack the Ripper,”
“What!?” cried Bury angrily “Don’t be so bloody ridiculous!”
“I can’t be ridiculous,” remarked Tumblety “I am a doctor,”
“Well blow me down,” said Vic jovially “Two Jack the Rippers? I never thought I’d see the day,”
“Yes and you’re still yet to see it,” nodded Tumblety “There can only be one Ripper, this fellow here is just making it up,”
“I’m afraid you’re both making it up,” said a voice from behind Tumblety, both advocators turned to see an incredibly scruffy gentleman who had a definite pong about him. “I’m the real Jack the Ripper,”
“Who do you fink you are, you prick!” swore Bury
“Kosminski,” said the very man as he munched on a piece of bread he had previously wrestled off a rat “I’m Kosminski, and I’m barmy and I am the real Ripper and I’m off soon to slice some whores up good and proper,”
“What do you mean off soon?” cried Tumblety “You’ve got a good few hours before you have to strike,”
“Nah,” said Kosminski “I’m off to Berner Street in about ten minutes,”
“Berner Street?” cried Tumblety “Jack the Ripper’s not going to Berner Street, he’s going to Mitre Square next!”
“No,” cried Kosminski “He might do that later but first it’s off to a cosy little spot called Dutfield’s yard,”
“He’s right actually,” said a weedy ineffectual man with sleeked black hair who up to that point had sat quietly on the other side of the bar “Berner Street is the next spot for Jack,”
“Yeah,” cried Kosminski
“But I don’t want to upset anyone,” said the weed “But it’s me who is Jack, I’m MacNaughton’s number one suspect,”
“Oh it’s Druitt I suppose?” cried Bury “Well listen here Monty, Jack was a big bastard, how could a pissy little guy like you kill a whore?”
“That’s why I get them drunk,” said Druitt “Even George Hutchinson said that Jack was unlikely to harm another man,”
“Yeah but to be fair I did make the whole thing up,” said George Hutchison as he walked up beside Druitt “You see I’m the Ripper,”
“No, no I’ve always believed your story to the utmost word,” smiled a newcomer who was dressed rather well. “You see I’m the toff you saw,”
“No I’m the toff!” cried Tumblety
“Oh please,” said Kosminski as he gnawed on the wood of the bar “You’re fifty-five, way over the hill to be Jack.”
“Well quite,” said the newcomer “But I have proof I’m this Ripper you talk about, you see I’ve been writing this diary.”
“Is this you?” cried Tumblety taking the book from the man’s hands “James Maybick? There’s not even any dates for these references! It could be set at any stage of the year!”
“I’m just not a dates person,” said James
“Well this is a fine pickle,” smiled Vic “Fancy all those Rippers,” he walked down to the end of the bar and addressed the two men at the end. “Another cherry, gentlemen?”
The two men who had been quietly conversing looked up at Vic. “Oh yes, thank you very much,” said the younger of the two. They waited for Vic to leave again before returning to their conversation.
“Okay so it’s settled,” said the older gentleman “Elizabeth Stride will be the next one,”
“Yes,” cried the younger “How dare that bitch spread those rumours about me?”
“Okay I’ll meet you back here in about ten minutes,” said the ancient getting up to leave.
“Wait where are you going?” asked the young man
“I’m to kill Elizabeth Stride like we said,”
“You’re gonna….? I’m the one that’s going to kill Stride,” said the impatient younger man.
“But your majesty, you can’t do it, I’m the Ripper,”
“Don’t be a fool Sir Gull,” cried the Duke of Clarence “I obviously the Ripper, everyone knows that he’s about my age,”
“Yes but you have no anatomical knowledge,” pleaded Gull
“There’s no proof to suggest that Jack does,”
“Of course he does!”
“I agree with the Duke,” said Joseph Barnett popping into the conversation.
“Come on fellahs it’s brand spankingly obvious,” said Dr Neil Cream in explanation to Druitt and Hutchinson “I’m a doctor and a murderer, what more do you want?”
“But you’re in prison right now in Chicago,” said Hutchinson “You can’t possibly be Jack,”
“Well some experts believe I had a double in Whitechapel at the time,” smiled Cream
“Doesn’t that still mean that it can’t be you?” pointed out the ever observant Druitt
“Hi,” said a stranger who breezed up to the bar “Just a pint thanks,”
“Well actually there’s a special on tonight,’ explained Vic “If you’re Jack the Ripper you get the first pint free,”
“Really?” said the man “Because it’s quite funny that you mention that. You see I am Jack the Ripper,”
“Well be sure to tell all your friends about it,” smiled Vic.
“I recognise you,” snarled Tumblety “Sickert isn’t it?”
“Yeah you’re quite right,” smiled Sickert “And who are you?”
“Dr Francis J. Tumblety, and don’t you be forgetting the “Dr”,” sneered Tumblety “Now are you the Masonic conspiracy Sickert or the Patricia Cornwell Sickert?”
“Yeah because either way you can piss off,” murmured Bury
“Well as of this moment, I’m the Patricia Cornwell Sickert,” smiled Sickert “I’ve been DNA tested and everything,”
“Yes well the Patricia Cornwell Sickert belongs in the realms of fiction,” said Kosminski
“Oh dear,” said Patricia Cornwell’s Sickert and he disappeared in a puff of fantasy.
“DNA testing,” shivered Kosminski “How pop-cultural-ish,”
“Aaron Kosminski I presume?” said another one
“Yes and you?”
“Nathan Kaminsky,” smiled the very same man “I believe there’s been a bit of a mix-up,”
“So I suppose if you’re going to be Jack the Ripper tonight,” said Hutchinson “You’ll be cutting off the ears,”
“I haven’t quite decided what I’ll be cutting up,” said Druitt “But I could be,”
“Right because when I, being Jack the Ripper in all, sent a letter to the Central News Agency I said I’d be sending the cops the ears,” bragged Hutchinson. “If you don’t know that you can’t possibly be the Ripper,”
“Balderdash!” cried Tumblety from across the room “There’s no proof that that letter is genuine! Tom Bulling wrote it!”
“No it was me!” cried Hutchinson “And you can tell, cos Catharine Eddowes does have her ears cut off!”
“But they were never sent to the police!” yelled Tumblety
“Well maybe I lost them, or ate them or something. I'm kind of an impulsive person, I'm a serial killer you see,”
“Okay!” cried Tumblety standing up on a table “I want a show of hands, of all the Jack the Rippers here, who sent the Dear Boss letter of the 27th of September?”
Six hands shot up.
“I said out of the Jack the Rippers, Bulling,”
“Oh sorry,” said Tom Bulling pulling his hand back down.
“Alright,” Tumblety continued “And out of the Rippers, who didn’t send it?”
He counted thirty-eight.
“Screw all this,” muttered the surly Bury “I’m off,”
“Where are you going?” queried Tumblety
“To kill a prossie,”
“You mean Stride?” cried the “Doctor” “But that’s impossible, it has nothing to do with Jack,”
“Well follow me and I’ll show you how much it has to do with him,” said Bury and he left the pub.
“Alright then,” said Tumblety and he followed after. Slowly another forty-one men and one woman filed out behind them. All of them chatting amongst themselves.
“So what are your thoughts on Martha Tabram?” asked Hutchinson.
“Well I never cancel her out completely,” said Kosminski “But I’m careful about how inclusive I get with her,”
Vic wiped the bar down and after butting Tom Bulling out onto the street he locked the door to his public house and blew out the candles. “What a crazy night indeed,” said he.
Then he grabbed a piece of chalk and ran out onto the streets.
Wintergreen |
|
Use of these
message boards implies agreement and consent to our Terms of Use.
The views expressed here in no way reflect the views of the owners and
operators of Casebook: Jack the Ripper.
Our old message board content (45,000+ messages) is no longer available online, but a complete archive
is available on the Casebook At Home Edition, for 19.99 (US) plus shipping.
The "At Home" Edition works just like the real web site, but with absolutely no advertisements.
You can browse it anywhere - in the car, on the plane, on your front porch - without ever needing to hook up to
an internet connection. Click here to buy the Casebook At Home Edition.
|
|
|
|
