บทที่ 3
Jack the Ripper kills again
On Monday night Whitechapel was full of policemen, all ready to catch Jack the Ripper. Nothing happened. Only Lestrade enjoyed this.
'You have failed, Mr Holmes,' he said. 'Your idea was very clever, but you made one mistake. You forgot to tell the murderer about it!'
Holmes and I took a cab back to Baker Street. We were both too tired to talk then, but later that day I said, 'Holmes, what did happen? What went wrong?'
'We did not really fail. Moriarty could not kill anyone because we were there. But 1 badly wanted to catch him at his work, and there I failed.'
'He was there, then?'
'He was there. He saw what I had done, and realized that he could not kill a woman that night.'
'Then you did not fail! We have beaten him.' Holmes shook his head slowly. 'No, Watson. We have not beaten him yet. Think how angry he must be! I have stopped him once, and now he will try harder to kill me. He will go on with his planned murders, and he will do everything possible to make sure that he succeeds.'
'But Holmes, how do we ... ?'
'Remember, he kills, waits a week, kills again and then waits three weeks. So he will kill again next weekend. 1 must talk to Lestrade. But tonight, Watson, we shall amuse ourselves at the theatre.'
He would say no more, but that night, while we were at the theatre, he disappeared from my side without a word. 1 did not even see him leave, and for several days I neither saw him nor heard from him. Then, at dinner time on the night when we had hoped to catch Jack the Ripper at his work, he suddenly appeared again in Baker Street.
'Holmes!' I cried. 'Where have you been?'
'Don't worry, old fellow.' He sat down by the fire. 'I have been keeping Moriarty busy and playing games with him. He has chased me all over the country, but, as you see, I am still alive. I shall tell you my adventures some other time. Lestrade will be here in a minute to discuss tonight's plan.'
When Lestrade arrived, he did not seem at all pleased to see us.
'So, another of your clever little plans, Mr Holmes,' he said coldly. 'Do you really think we shall see the killer tonight?' 'He will be at work tonight,' Holmes replied. 'The only question is, shall we be ready for him? I suppose you have done everything that I ordered you to do?'
'We are ready for him.'
'Then let us go. We must not keep Jack the Ripper waiting.' It was a cold, windy night, and we were grateful for our thick coats as we sat in the cab. It took us to the big police station in Commercial Street. Hundreds of policemen were waiting there to begin the night's work. Holmes and I sat down to wait, too.
After some time I said to Holmes, 'This waiting is terrible. 1 wish we could do something.'
'We can,' he replied.
'When a crime is reported. Until then we can only wait. The murderer could be anywhere out there.'
Holmes picked up a piece of paper and a pencil. 'He could.
But I think I know where he is. Look at this.' This is what he showed me:
'The letters E, S, C and N are Eddowes, Stride, Chapman and Nicholl, the last four women he has
murdered,' Holmes said. 'The diagram shows the place where each died.'
'And X, I suppose, is some unknown woman, the one that he plans to kill tonight,' I said. 'But how do you know where to put the X on your diagram?'
'Look again, Watson,' Holmes said with a smile. Suddenly, I understood. 'It is a letter M!'
'Yes, Watson. M for murder, M for .. .' 'Moriarty! Holmes, do you mean to say ... ?'
'Yes. He is writing his name in blood upon the face of Whitechapel. And, as you see, I know where he will try to kill tonight, and where I shall go to meet him.'
'Not without me,' I said. 'I must come with you.' We left the police station just before midnight.
For the first time, 1 walked through the narrow streets of east London, streets that I had seen before only through the window of a cab. People think that murders happen in dark, empty streets. That is not always true. A strange and horrible fact about the streets where Jack the Ripper murdered women is that they were busier and better lit than most other London streets. They were full of pubs and cheap hotels. At all hours the streets were full of people who were too poor to find a bed anywhere, drunks looking for a bar that never closed, and all kinds of criminals. Finally, there were the women - those women who work only at night, when their more honest sisters are asleep.
I studied medicine in London, and while I was a student I saw something of the low-life of our capital. I was, after all, a healthy young man, and young men must amuse themselves. But I had never seen women like these. Holmes stopped several to question and to warn them, and I looked at their faces carefully. They were old at the age of twenty, dirty, diseased and hopeless. One thing was clear to me - they were not like other women. Does it matter, I began to think, if Jack the Ripper kills women like these? Death by his knife is quick. It cannot be worse than the slow and painful death from disease which most often ends their short lives.
We returned to the police station after one o'clock. I was tired and sick at heart. Lestrade did not stop talking, telling us that we should catch no murderers that night.
Suddenly, Holmes jumped up and walked out into the street.
I followed him.
Stay inside, Watson,' he said. 'You are tired, dear fellow, and you cannot help me.'
'I am coming with you,' I said. 'Nothing will stop me.' 'Come, then. But we must hurry. Moriarty is near. I can feel it.'
It began to rain. He walked fast and I almost had to run to keep up with him. His eyes moved restlessly from side to side. Suddenly he stopped, and stared into the darkness.
'Twice, Watson,' he said softly. 'He will kill twice tonight.
We stopped him killing a woman last time, so he must kill two tonight.'
Before I could answer, he was moving again. Then he stopped, and pulled me into a dark corner. Someone was coming towards us. Holmes spoke in a low voice, bur I shook with fear at his words. 'It is Moriarty.'
A man passed our corner and disappeared into another street. I could not see his face.
'Run to the police station and fetch Lestrade. He knows what to do,' Holmes said. 'I shall follow Moriarty. Hurry, man, hurry!'
Then he was gone. I cannot explain why I did not do what I was told. The fact is, instead of going to the police station, I followed Holmes. Perhaps I was afraid that my friend could not fight Moriarty on his own.
I ran to the corner of the street. I could just see Moriarty, walking straight on. Then, to my great surprise, Holmes turned left, and disappeared into a house, while Moriarty reached the end of the street and turned the corner. I could not understand what was happening, or what I should do next. What if Holmes, realizing that someone was following him, thought I was one of Moriarty's men? Some minutes later, I was still wondering what to do when I heard a door close. A man came out into the street. It was Holmes. He was now richly dressed, in a hat and a long, dark coat. He had changed his appearance in several small and clever ways, but I knew him.
I wanted to call to him, but was afraid he would not be pleased. Instead, I decided to follow secretly, ready to help him if he needed me.
We walked and walked. The rain became heavier and the streets emptied of people. Then a short fat man passed me, and soon afterwards a girl. She looked like a woman of the streets, but younger and
prettier than most I had seen that night. She seemed a little drunk, and could not walk straight.
As she came near to Holmes, he stopped and spoke to her.
They both laughed. Further along the street I saw the short fat man, now standing outside a pub, watching them. Then Holmes and the girl walked off together and a few seconds later the man followed them. How I feared for Holmes's safety! I was sure that the man and the girl were working for Moriarty. They had some plan, I knew, to hurt my friend. Perhaps only I could save him.
Holmes and the girl walked on, the man followed them, and I followed all three. At last Holmes and the girl stopped at the entrance to a yard. I heard the woman's voice. I could not hear Holmes's words, bur to my surprise I clearly saw him kiss her face. Then they entered the yard, and the fat man crossed the street and went into a house further along. Had he gone to fetch Moriarty, who would now appear and kill my friend?
Slowly and carefully, I made my way into the yard. It was dark, but I could see a light at a window. Then I heard Holmes's voice. He was in that room.
As quietly as I could, I went to the window. The curtains were a little too short, and I could just see into the room. The woman was lying on the bed, drinking from a bottle. Holmes sat with his back to the window, taking snuff from a little silver box. He seemed to be in no danger, but who could say when Moriarty would arrive?
It was cold and wet in the yard, but I felt calm again. If Moriarty came, I was ready to save my friend. I sat down with my back to the wall to wait.
I am ashamed to say what happened next, but I must say it.
I fell asleep. I was asleep for two hours. As I woke up, cold and uncomfortable, Holmes's words came back to me, 'He will kill twice tonight.'
I ran to the window, afraid of what I should see. At first I could not understand what terrible thing had happened there. Was it possible, I wondered, for a person to explode? There was blood everywhere. Then I recognized the body as the woman who I had seen drinking and talking with Sherlock Holmes. He was still with her, bur he was not dead. No, much worse than dead. He was alive. He had a knife in his hand, and he was cutting up her face and her body. Even as I watched, he was carefully cutting the leg down to the bone, taking off a long piece of meat in his other hand.
And as he cut the woman to pieces, he was singing .