Jack the Ripper Victims Series: The Double Event Read online

  Jack The Ripper Victims Series:

  The Double Event

  This volume contains two novels from the Jack the Ripper Victims Series:

  Say Anything but Your Prayers

  Of Thimble and Threat

  Novels by

  Alan M. Clark

  Jack the Ripper Victims Series:

  The Double Event

  by

  Alan M. Clark

  IFD Publishing, P.O. Box 40776, Eugene, Oregon 97404 U.S.A. (541)461-3272 www.ifdpublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Although the novels are inspired by real historical events and actual human lives, the characters have been created for the sake of this story and are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Jack the Ripper Victims Series: The Double Event copyright © 2014 by Alan M. Clark

  The two novels within this volume, Of Thimble and Threat and Say Anything But Your Prayers, were originally published by Lazy Fascist Press.

  Cover Art and interior art, copyright © Alan M. Clark 2014

  eBook Design, Eric M. Witchey

  Originally Printed in the United States of America

  General Contents

  Other Books by Alan M. Clark

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note—The Ripper’s London

  About the Author

  Connect with the Author

  Other eBooks from IFD Publishing

  Contents: Say Anything But Your Prayers

  Chapter 1: The Pursuit of Something Better

  Chapter 2: Favorites

  Chapter 3: A New Life

  Chapter 4: For Her Trouble

  Chapter 5: Providence

  Chapter 6: Employment

  Chapter 7: Small Conspiracy

  Chapter 8: Prostitution

  Chapter 9: Kurhus

  Chapter 10: Drastic Measures

  Chapter 11: Rest

  Chapter 12: Goodwill

  Chapter 13: Passage

  Chapter 14: The Beast’s Belly

  Chapter 15: The Beast Tamed

  Chapter 16: The Guarded Secret

  Chapter 17: No Dirty Puzzle

  Chapter 18: The Terms of Agreement

  Chapter 19: In Her Path

  Chapter 20: A Shop of Her Own

  Chapter 21: Days, Month, Years of Hard Work

  Chapter 22: Histories

  Chapter 23: The London Beast’s Gizzard

  Chapter 24: Decision

  Chapter 25: Arguments

  Chapter 26: Escape

  Chapter 27: The Client

  Chapter 28: Tomorrow’s Embrace

  Contents: Of Thimble and Threat

  Chapter 1: A Thimble

  Chapter 2: Two Skirts, One Green, One Blue with Red Flounce

  Chapter 3: A Piece of White Coarse Linen

  Chapter 4: A White Handle Table Knife, a Ticking Pocket and a Cork

  Chapter 5: A Man’s White Waistcoat

  Chapter 6: A Red Gauze Neckerchief

  Chapter 7: A White Calico Chemise

  Chapter 8: A Ball of Hemp, Tin for Sugar, Tin for Tea, Flannel with Soap, Flannel with Sewing Needs

  Chapter 9: A Short Black Clay Pipe and a Tin Match Box

  Chapter 10: A Portion of a Pair of Spectacles

  Chapter 11: A Pair of Brown Stockings with Mended Feet

  Chapter 12: A Pewter Tea Spoon

  Chapter 13: Two Unbleached Calico Pockets

  Chapter 14: A Mustard Tin

  Chapter 15: A Handbill

  Chapter 16: A Silk and Velvet Dress Bodice and a Black Straw Bonnet

  Chapter 17: A Handkerchief with Birds Eye Border

  Chapter 18: A Pair of Men’s Lace Up Boots

  Chapter 19: Three Abalone Buttons

  Chapter 20: A Red Leather Cigarette Case

  Chapter 21: A Printed Calling Card

  Chapter 22: A Tooth Comb and a Large White Handkerchief

  Chapter 23: Two Small, Blue Bed Ticking Bags

  Chapter 24: A Piece of Blue and White Shirting, Three-cornered

  Chapter 25: A Single Red Mitten and Twelve Pieces of White Rag

  Chapter 26: Two Pawn Tickets

  Chapter 27: A Black Cloth Jacket, a Chintz Skirt with Flounce and a Grey Stuff Petticoat

  Chapter 28: An Old White Apron

  Chapter 29: Nothing

  Chapter 30: A Body at Mortuary

  Chapter 31: Epilogue

  Other Books by Alan M. Clark

  Novels

  Siren Promised (authored with Jeremy Robert Johnson)

  D.D. Murphry, Secret Policeman (authored with Elizabeth Massie)

  A Parliament of Crows (author)

  The Door That Faced West (author and illustrator)

  Novel Series

  The Blood of Father Time Duology:

  The Blood of Father Time: The New Cut (authored with Stephen C. Merritt, and Lorelei Shannon)

  The Blood of Father Time: The Mystic Clan’s Grand Plot (authored with Stephen C. Merritt, and Lorelei Shannon)

  Jack the Ripper Victims Series:

  Of Thimble and Threat (author)

  Say Anything But Your Prayers (author and illustrator)

  Collections

  Hemogoblin: Stories to Chill the Blood (authored with numerous collaborating authors)

  Escaping Purgatory (authored with Gary A. Braunbeck)

  Pain and Other Petty Plots to Keep You in Stitches (authored with numerous collaborating authors)

  Boneyard Babies (authored with numerous collaborating authors)

  Anthologies

  Imagination Fully Dilated (editor, contributing author and illustrator)

  Imagination Fully Dilated, Volume II (contributing author and illustrator)

  Imagination Fully Dilated: Science Fiction (illustrator)

  Bedtime Stories to Darken Your Dreams, edited by Bruce Holland Rogers. Alan M. Clark contributing author, designer, and illustrator.

  Art Books

  The Pain Doctors of Suture Self General (author, with numerous collaborating authors)

  The Paint in My Blood (author, illustrator, and designer)

  Children Books

  The Christmas Thingy (illustrator and designer, with F. Paul Wilson as author)

  The Halloween Mouse (illustrator and designer, with Richard Laymon as author)

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Cameron Pierce, Kisten Alene, Melody Kees Clark, Eric M. Witchey, Jill Bauman, Susan Stockell, Mark Edwards, Steven Savile, Mark Roland, Simon Clark, Charles Muir, Laurie Ewing McNichols, and Pigg.

  Author’s Note—The Ripper’s London

  This is a work of fiction inspired by the life of Elizabeth Stride, a woman believed to be the third victim of Jack the Ripper. For purposes of storytelling, I have not adhered strictly to her history. I have assigned to my main character emotional characteristics and reactions that seem consistent with her life and circumstances. I’ve addressed puzzling events in Elizabeth Stride’s life, and a mysterious confusion that occurred during the coroner’s inquest into her murder concerning her identity.

  To be clear, this novel is not about Jack the Ripper. The series itself is not about the killer. Instead, each novel in the series explores the life of a different victim.

  I wrote this note in the month of October, a time for scary fun. I truly enjoy the cute horror of Halloween and a good, over-the-top zombie film, yet as one who has always been intrigued by the dark and disturbing, as a practitioner in the horror genre, a professional writer for almost two decades, and an i
llustrator for almost three, sometimes that sort of fun scare falls flat. My interest has been drawn over time to the real horror of history and the lessons to be learned from it.

  Long ago, when I first learned of Jack the Ripper and the murders associated with the killer, I was, as most everyone is, intrigued by the endless speculation about who he might have been (I use male pronouns when referring to him merely because of the name Jack; though we don’t know the gender of the Whitechapel Murderer). The more I read about the murders and the various theories, the less interested I was in the killer and the more intrigued I became with the environment in which the murders took place. As I learned more about Victorian London and how rapidly it changed due to the industrial revolution, the more interesting I found the lives of those who lived there at the time. Although I couldn’t learn much about the killer, I could gain some knowledge of the five female victims. Potentially, there are more than five, but those considered canonical victims are Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly.

  Coroner’s inquests were held to determine the cause of death for each of the women. The inquiries are essentially trials, with juries and witnesses to help make a determination about the manner of a victim’s demise. The verdict in each of the five cases was "Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown."

  The words, actions, movements, and motivations of each of the women are most clearly known to history closest to the time of their deaths because of the testimony of the witnesses called during the inquests. In some cases, such as that of Elizabeth Stride, the last couple of hours were recounted in detail, and in other cases, such as that of Catherine Eddowes, we have a good idea what she did within several days of her death. The farther we go into the past away from the hour of their deaths, however, the less detailed and the more generalized is the information about them. Within the few years prior to their deaths, all five had suffered real hardship—all had engaged in prostitution to survive, most, if not all, had been active alcoholics, and most had spent time in the dehumanizing workhouse system.

  In Victorian England, the Industrial revolution had led to large-scale unemployment, much the way the Tech Revolution has done in America today. Victorian London, much like large American cities today, suffered from overcrowding and large numbers of homeless.

  We can see a modern reflection of the victims of Jack the Ripper in the homeless of twenty-first century America. Much of the cause of that homelessness went unseen in Victorian times, as it does now. With the rise in the numbers of the homeless, then as now, people had a tendency to shy away from the problem.

  My natural inclination is to avoid knowing why so many people are hungry and without shelter. I want to look away, and I don’t want to look away. My experience is that many people are just as ambivalent. Many of the homeless are intoxicated much of the time or begging for the means to become intoxicated. I can easily become disgusted with the endless need of the addicts among the homeless. I could justify my righteousness by blaming their lack of hygiene, and their crimes of desperation. However, I am a sober alcoholic and expect myself to have compassion for them, even when it doesn’t come naturally. There, but for providence, go I.

  Although I avoid those who are clearly intoxicated, on occasion I’ve asked someone begging on the street for their story. Most aren’t good at telling a story, perhaps because they are rarely asked to tell one. Even so, from what they say, I always get the sense that they have had happier times, that they have capabilities, and that they have aspirations involving their own personal interests and those whom they love.

  Worse than the surface irritation of having to deal with a person who might be slovenly, dirty, inconvenient, or in-my-face is the emotional stress of considering the plight of an unfortunate person. My immediate response is to want to look away. I speak of my experience to take responsibility for my reactions, yet I’m not alone. We find it easy to scorn the beggars on the streets and then project that disdain on all homeless people, further isolating them. As a result, the down and out are less likely to find help when in danger. If they are seriously harmed or killed, fewer people step forward to try to find out what happened. Those who prey upon the homeless more easily get away with their crimes. The same was true for the down and out of Victorian London.

  What events in the lives of the five Jack the Ripper victims led to their demise on the streets of London? How much of the way they lived was a result of the choices they made? What was beyond their control? Were they chosen at random by their killer, or did he choose them because he knew that fewer people would step forward to find out what happened to them? We don’t have good, solid answers to these questions.

  My impression is that their choices had something to do with securing their wellbeing, however, much of their existence was beyond their control. The environment of London itself was a danger. Literally hundreds of thousands of Londoners were killed by the pollution in the air, water, and food. New industries popped up everywhere to support the burgeoning population and to exploit the cheap labor market. Small factories occupied converted tenements or houses that once held families in residential neighborhoods. Sometimes, only a part of such a tenement or house was occupied by industry while the rest still functioned as a residence for individuals or families. With an increase in the use of chemistry, and with little knowledge of the damage many chemicals inflicted upon the bodies of those exposed to them, industries, such as match making, destroyed the lives of their workers and those living within close proximity to production. Those who suffered often did so without knowing why until it was too late. Matchmaking is only one example of the industrial poisoning of Londoners. Deadly chemicals were everywhere. They were used in medicines and in prepared foods as preservatives. Madness abounded, if not as a result of the emotional hardships of life, then from chemical damage to the brain.

  A life of poverty in London was slowly killing all of the Ripper’s victims. Survival within that environment is the story that intrigues me. Those are lives I can relate to because I see parallels with life in my own time.

  Regardless of whether the Ripper’s victims had few opportunities to live better lives or were responsible in large part for their predicaments, their legacy is pitiful and poignant. Not the cute horror of Halloween perhaps or the over-the-top-turned-almost-cartoon horror of slasher and zombie films, the stories of the five women are full of emotional content, conflict, and drama. What happened to the victims of Jack the Ripper is true horror, and in the telling of those tales we are reminded that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

  When I was growing up, my mother had a strange way of watching scary movies on television with the family; she’d stand in the hallway beside the living-room, peeking around the corner at the TV, ready to run away if the film became too scary. Is that the way we as a society treat true horror? We all love a fun scare, but when the suffering becomes too real, we want to run away because it’s painful to witness. I suppose I’m saying that if fewer of us looked away, if we had the courage to see, there might be less actual horror in the world. So here’s to remaining in the living-room of life with our eyes wide open.

  And so to the life of Elizabeth Stride…

  —Alan M. Clark; Eugene, Oregon

  Say Anything but Your Prayers

  A novel by

  Alan M. Clark

  Chapter 1:The Pursuit of Something Better

  Whitechapel, London, September 30, 1888

  Chilled from standing on Berner Street in the damp night, watching for her client’s return, Elizabeth cursed herself silently, and decided that if the fellow didn’t come back by the time she finished her grapes, she’d give up on him.

  She had met the gentleman on Aldgate High Street and they’d spent a couple of hours together, eating and drinking at the Bricklayer’s Arms pub a short distance away, and then walking to Berner Street. All the while, they’d talked, laughed, and paused occasionally for a bit of canoodling
. Old enough to be established, but young enough to have kept his looks in a square-built manner, the man had an attractive, even-tempered presence. His odd accent was perhaps American. In his dark suit, overcoat, and billycock, he appeared to be a man of business, not a laborer.

  The gentleman bought her black grapes at Packer’s greengrocer down the lane. Although pleased with the gift, Elizabeth had to be careful with grapes since all except the juice of the fruit gave her a stomach ache. She rolled one grape around in her mouth to extract its nectar, while he ate a handful of them.

  Most men simply bought her drinks. The purchase of the fruit suggested that her client had imagination and quite possibly saw their time together as more than merely a transaction. Indeed, she and the gentleman got along so well, she’d begun to think he might be the one who would take her away from the East End and provide for her in years to come. Elizabeth had been looking for something better throughout her life; a better home, better health, better employment, better food, better friends, and, of course, a better man.

  Before her husband, Jon, died, he had asked her to find another man to take care of her. She had been with her cash carrier, Mr. Kidney, for several years now, and though she had sexual relations with him, he was a ponce. Almost any situation would be better than what she had with him.

  Elizabeth was trying to think of a way to draw her client closer, to encourage his tendency to treat her as a lover, when he’d given her a big smile, and said, “You hold here. I’ll go to my room and be back in a trice with a bottle of fine, sweet wine.”

  “You could get a bottle at The Nelson, there on the corner” she said, pointing.

  “Not like the bottle I’ve got in my room.”

  Elizabeth didn’t want him to get away. “I’ll go with you.”

  He looked down, shaking his head slowly, and she knew he didn’t want to be seen entering his home with a woman of her caliber. “It’s not far,” he said, looking up again. “I’ll be right back with the sweetest wine you’ve ever tasted.”