Kate collected the papers she had printed out and walked over to Delaney, as an image appeared on the screen. A healthy, sexy, vibrant image of the woman who had been butchered like a sacrificial cow.
'You better have a look at this, Jack.' Kate handed Delaney the documents she had printed out.
Delaney skimmed his eyes over as he read the first page. 'She wasn't missing any teeth. What is this?'
Kate took the pages off him and read sections aloud. ' 'The left arm across the left breast. The instrument used at the throat and abdomen was the same. It must have been a very sharp knife with a thin narrow blade, and must have been at least six to eight inches in length, probably longer. He should say that the injuries could not have been inflicted by a bayonet or a sword bayonet. They could have been done by such an instrument as a medical man used for post-mortem purposes, but the ordinary surgical cases might not contain such an instrument. Those used by the slaughtermen, well ground down, might have caused them. He thought the knives used by those in the leather trade would not be long enough in the blade. There were indications of anatomical knowledge—' '
'What is this?' Delaney interrupted her.
'It's a report, Jack, but not from our murders.'
'Whose then?'
'They didn't come from my office, I just printed them off the Internet. He's been sending you messages all along. Start with the man in the mirror, Jack! It's your namesake.'
'What is?'
'The scarf instead of a handkerchief. The mirror found with the second body. The guy is dressing the victims up like Jack the Ripper victims.'
Delaney looked up at her, taking it in. 'He's copycatting.'
'Not exactly, no. But . . .' she shrugged.
'How many were there?'
'At least five,' said Sally. 'All prostitutes. Some reckon as many as eleven.'
'Jesus!'
The lightning flashed again. The thunder was almost simultaneous now; they were right under the storm. Delaney looked across at the pane of glass and back at Kate. 'You can't be fucking serious.'
'There's another thing,' said Sally.
'Go on.'
'As you know they never found the identity of Jack the Ripper.'
'Yeah, of course I know that.'
'One of the suspects, not one of the main ones but one of them nonetheless . . .'
'Go on.'
'Walter Sickert.'
'The artist.'
'Some people claimed he was the Ripper himself. A lot of people thought he might just have been an accessory. An accomplice to the real killer.'
'And?'
'And, Jack . . . He had several operations on his penis,' Kate interjected.
'That's right,' said Sally. 'He had what Jimmy Skinner would call a deformed wing-wang.'
He leaned his forehead against the pane of glass. He hated the rain, but the cool glass seemed to ease the heat in his forehead. He looked at his watch, five o'clock, but it was already as dark as if it was midwinter. He didn't mind the dark. He rubbed his
