Jack's Back

footage, which had been seized from a private system in Mitre Street. The camera had been wall mounted on a building that sat almost directly opposite the junction with Mitre Square. The footage, timed at 23:26 hours on Tuesday 2^nd November 1999, showed a white Sherpa van pulling over against the opposite kerb, just beyond the junction with Mitre Square, and then reversing back into the square. The same van could be seen pulling out of Mitre Square thirty-eight minutes later. Unfortunately, the camera hadn’t captured anything that occurred inside Mitre Square, but its footage did afford them their first real look at the van driver’s face. While the heavy rain blurred the image a little, it was still good enough for the detectives to make out that the Whitechapel killer was a white male of indeterminate age with long hair and a slightly droopy moustache, and he was clearly wearing glasses.

Evans printed off some stills for distribution. When Charlie White was shown these, and asked if he recognised the man, he proclaimed that, unless the suspect was wearing a wig and fake moustache, which seemed highly unlikely to him, it definitely couldn’t be James Sadler.

Dillon, who had been sitting with Charlie in the canteen when Evans brought the stills down for viewing, remarked that the man’s glasses and moustache were reminiscent of the look George Harrison had sported in the 1970s. “We should issue an order, with immediate effect, for anyone resembling one of the Beatles to be stopped,” he had suggested helpfully. The three of them had then spent the rest of the day seeing who could work the most titles of Beatles songs into their conversations, much to everyone else’s annoyance.

The result of the subscriber check on the number that called the GMC on 27^th October hadn’t come back in until Wednesday morning. Unfortunately, the telephone box it belonged to was located in a quiet East End street, nowhere near any CCTV cameras. At Dillon’s behest, Reggie had since requested billing and cell site location mapping for the entire previous week on Sadler’s mobile telephone, having obtained his number from the GMC. This would tell them who he had been in contact with during that time and give them a good idea of his movements, but it would take the TIU a few days to prepare. They all accepted that this tactic probably represented their final shot at finding anything tangible to link Sadler to the four killings. Unless something came out of theses checks, the doctor would cease to be a POI.

One of the highlights of the week had been yesterday afternoon’s unexpected visit from Colin Franklin, who was still convalescing from the rib injuries he had sustained while trying to arrest Claude Winston. Colin was in good spirits and wanted to hear all the latest news and gossip. He was gutted to have missed out on all the overtime his colleagues had earned, and he hoped there would still be some money in the pot when he returned to active duty. His wife was due to drop any day now, he informed them excitedly, and he was both looking forward to and dreading the sprog’s arrival at the same time.

◆◆◆

It was mid-afternoon when Tyler fielded an unexpected call from Charles Porter over at Whitechapel. Dillon had gone to the lab for a forensic meeting with Sam Calvin earlier in the day and, when the phone rang, he half expected it to be the big man calling to blag a lift from the tube station.

“How can I help you?” he’d asked warily, hoping the conversation wouldn’t deteriorate into another argument.

“I think you had better send someone over,” Porter had told him. “The Ripper has just sent me a rather gruesome present.”

◆◆◆

Thirty minutes after receiving the call, Tyler entered Porter’s office, accompanied by Steve Bull and George Copeland. Porter was sitting behind his desk, and from the look of it, he was halfway through writing a statement. To his surprise, he saw that Simon Pritchard was also present.

For once, Porter looked relieved to see the Murder Squad officers. He rose to greet them and then indicated a small white shoe box that was sitting on a table to the side of his desk. The box had been opened, and the lid was sitting next to it. “This is the offending article,” Porter explained. “It was addressed to me, but when I opened it there was a second note inside, telling me to pass it onto you. I’m afraid we had no idea what it contained and so we’ve both touched it with our bare hands.”

Tyler walked over to the table and peeked inside the open box. As Porter had told him on the phone, there was a lump of cellophane-wrapped meat sitting on a bed of what looked like greaseproof paper. Tyler grimaced. “George, can you take care of this thing,” he asked, pointing to the flesh filled shoe box.

“Leave it to me,” George said, opening his exhibit bag to get the appropriate packaging out.

Tyler turned to the Divisional Commander. “Where’s the note?”

Porter returned to his desk and retrieved an A4 sheet of paper, which he held at arm’s length. At least he’d had the good sense to place it inside a clear evidence bag, Tyler observed. In keeping with the killer’s previous messages, this one also appeared to have been written in the victim’s blood, and it had run in a number of places. Taking the bag, Tyler read the enclosed note carefully.

My dear Inspector Tyler,

I hope you enjoy this kidney as much as I enjoyed the first. This woman’s death may have occurred by my hand, but it was your moronic colleague’s words that brought it about. I trust he will all be more respectful when talking to the media about me in future.

Your obedient servant,

Jack the New Ripper.

Jack read the disgusting note in silence and then handed it to Bull.

Porter immediately produced a second clear evidence bag, which contained a smaller sheet of paper.