The emergency briefing that day had a very different tone to most other briefings. It wasn’t often that the police had what essentially amounted to a pre-warning of a murder about to take place without knowing the identity of the intended victim.
Culverhouse stood up and briefed the team. ‘We know that if the killer intends on following the original Ripper pattern, the next murder is likely to happen in the early hours of the twenty-ninth. That’s the day after tomorrow. Now, we’ve got two options. We could either go public with this and panic everyone in the town and surrounding area or we can focus our energies on likely targets and release a warning nearer the time if we are no closer to identifying a target. We’ll also be heavily increasing foot patrols and liaising with neighbouring forces with a view to getting some outside help on that front.
‘Now, again assuming that he’s following a pattern matching the original Ripper victims, we’d expect his next target to match one or more of a number of identified criteria. These are the woman’s age, which could be around her mid forties, possibly of Swedish descent although any European immigrant could be at risk, divorced and possibly living with a new partner, and possibly an occasional prostitute.’
DS Frank Vine raised his hand.
‘Yes, Frank?’
‘Do you mean to say that we could be looking for a woman who’s in her mid forties, or from Europe somewhere, or divorced, or working as a prostitute? Not all of them?’
‘Not necessarily, no. Keira Quinn and Lindsay Stott matched some of the characteristics of Polly Nichols and Annie Chapman but certainly not all of them. It’d be impossible to find a modern day clone of all the victims, which is what makes our job all the more difficult. But I think it’s fair to say that if someone matched at least two of those criteria, we’d see them as a high risk target.’
‘But that could apply to hundreds of people, guv,’ Steve Wing chipped in.
‘Then you’re going to have hundreds of fucking phone calls to make, aren’t you? It’s either that or this bastard kills again, and I’m not keen on that possibility.’
‘Guv, there’s more,’ Debbie Weston said, her voice faltering slightly as she spoke, not taking her eyes off the hardback book on Jack the Ripper, which was open on her desk.
‘What is it?’ Culverhouse barked, by now growing impatient.
‘The murder of Elizabeth Stride wasn’t the only one that happened on the twenty-ninth. The Ripper killed twice that night.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Culverhouse shouted, trying desperately to keep a lid on his temper.
‘I’m sorry, guv. I was in such a hurry to get things moving to try and stop the next one, I hadn’t thought to look over the fourth again.’
‘Give me the details,’ Culverhouse said in his trademark gentle whisper which actually said I’m fucking furious.
‘Her name was Catherine Eddowes. She was forty-six years old, about five feet tall, originally from Wolverhampton. Not married, but had a couple of long-term partners. Not known to be a heavy drinker, but had a bit of a temper, known to the police and had Bright’s Disease, apparently.’
‘What’s that?’ Culverhouse asked.
‘Something to do with the kidneys, ain’t it?’ Steve Wing said.
‘Thank you, Doctor Wing. Perhaps you could contribute further once you’ve Googled it for me,’ the DCI replied. ‘So we’re potentially looking for someone with this Bright’s Disease, then. Surely there must be some sort of society or charity who’d know about local sufferers? Maybe get onto doctors and ask them if anyone local has been diagnosed with Bright’s Disease recently.’
‘Ah, not likely to be much help, guv,’ Wendy interrupted, holding her iPhone in the air. ‘I’ve just Googled it. It doesn’t exist any more, technically. It’d usually be described as nephritis these days.’
‘Ask them if anyone’s been diagnosed with fucking nephritis, then. What does the name matter? A Snickers is still a fucking Marathon.’
‘We could just as easily be looking for a woman in her mid-forties who hasn’t been married. Or a woman from the Midlands,’ Wendy said. ‘Whichever way we look at it, it’s a needle in a haystack. And that’s assuming that he’s using the same criteria we assume he will. What if he’s using something more obscure.’
‘What do you suggest we do, Knight? Just sit around and wait for two more bodies to pop up?’
‘I don’t think getting angry’s going to help anything, guv,’ Wendy replied, immediately regretting it as she saw Culverhouse’s face grow redder. ‘If you ask me, I think your idea of stepping up foot patrols is going to be our best bet. We should warn people to be extra vigilant, too. Especially women.’
‘If you ask me, it’s a miracle no-one has written in linking Keira Quinn and Lindsay Stott to the original Ripper yet,’ Frank Vine said.
Culverhouse replied to him without taking his eyes off Wendy. ‘Yeah, well I’ve got a feeling that’s about to be blown out the fucking water.’