One Incontrovertible, Unequivocal, Undeniable Fact Which Refutes the Diary

[Iconoclast]

Again, the diary has no provenance and the guy introducing it and trying to profit from it wanted to buy a blank victorian diary...one does not have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened

As I keep pointing out (most especially in my brilliant Society's Pillar), one may not have to be Sherlock Holmes, but one must certainly be at least an amateur statistician. Over 35,000 days had passed since James Maybrick passed. The floorboards in James' room have no record of being touched in all that time. Then - lo! - on Day 35,632 (or whatever) the floorboards are lifted. Now … take your time, everyone …

On the very same day (March 9, 1992), Mike Barrett who drinks in the same pub as Eddie Lyons who was working on Battlecrease House eight and a half miles away rings Doreen Montgomery saying he has the diary of Jack the Spratt McVitie.

No, you don't have to be Sherlock Holmes, nor indeed Alan Turing, but you do have to use your brain briefly. Those two things colliding as they did on the same day, linked by a couple of streets and a now famous pub, are an example of the most implausible of all possible coincidences.

Engage your brain further.

Eddie mentions to Bongo in The Saddle on March 9, 1992 that he has found an old Victorian diary (the date gives it away, by the way) and it's signed 'Jack the Spratt McVitie'. Eddie doesn't have it with him so Bongo can't see it, but he suspects it's utterly knocked-off. Intrigued, he gets through to Doreen Montgomery using a false name (for obvious reasons - he doesn't know how knocked-off is knocked-off) and she shows interest in seeing it. They agree a month's time. Bongo doesn't know if he's going to get his hands on it but he's committed to a meeting. Whilst he's working on getting it from Lyons, he orders a Victorian diary to see what one looks like (Lyons hasn't said it was an old scrapbook so Bongo doesn't realise). He may or may not have specified 1880-1890 or Martin Earl may have misremembered when he inserted the ad for Bongo. Anyway, Bongo asks for twenty or more empty pages - just in case he needs to knock-up a version of the knock-off. Earl rings him back with the ridiculous 1891 diary. Barrett still hasn't seen the Victorian scrapbook so he accepts the purchase. He subsequently comes to some arrangement with Lyons for what he realises is an undated scrapbook. Maybe they agree a split if Bongo can sell it through his 'writer's contacts' (he is Billy Bullshitter, after all). The deal is done, but Bongo pisses Lyons share up the wall in a fit of emotional pique. Lyons wants his cash and comes 'round to Bongo's house and threatens him with violence. Bongo churns that little episode over and it becomes Paul Feldman and his henchmen threatened him with violence. Lyons realises he's blown any hope of a payday and backs away.

Bongo confesses he wrote the Victorian scrapbook. Lord Orsam buys the bullshit hook, line, and sinker.

That last bit was the quick version, by the way.

Ike

[Iconoclast]

By the way, I'm not saying that is what happened. Cleary I don't know. But - if you engage you brain - you can quickly see that there may be more possible eventualities than your limited knowledge of events permits for ...

[Al Bundy's Eyes]

"Billy Bullshitter". Haven't heard that one in ages! Cheers Ike.

One of Doyle's lesser known works, "Sherlock Holmes and the case of the Billy Bullshitter"

[caz]

I suspect Sherlock Holmes would have had his work cut out to prove the very specific scenario, which disregards the whole Eddie Lyons/Battlecrease/Saddle/Mike Barrett association, centred on that one day in March 1992, and involves instead the creation of the Maybrick diary over 11 days in early April.

Holmes would have been left to grapple with Mike's sworn affidavit of 5th January 1995, which put the planning and also, awkwardly, the execution of the diary back two years to early 1990. Evidently it was not considered a risk too far if the handwriting turned out to be nothing like Maybrick's, and the thorny issue of provenance seems only to have been considered and resolved when Tony Devereux obliged the Barretts by dying unexpectedly in August 1991. By then, the diary had been ready to go for some considerable time, on the Barretts' word processor, so it was just waiting for Mike to source something suitable for its final resting place. What might Holmes have made of the singular timing of Mike's telephone call to Pan Books in March 1992, swiftly followed on their advice by the call to Doreen, claiming he had Jack the Ripper's diary? At this point it was still only in draft form on the word processor, where it had been languishing for the last two years, because a Victorian book hadn't yet been found to accommodate it. Why the sudden impulse on Mike's part to contact someone about it after all that time, only to put himself under pressure to get the finished product ready to be examined, when he got exactly the reaction from Doreen he had been hoping for? And why use a false name, knowing he'd have to own up and give his real name on getting the thumbs up he was after? Was this all part of the plan he'd been working on since 1990? To arouse suspicion from the get-go by lying about his name? He could still have delayed taking the completed diary to London for any number of reasons, but instead the very specific scenario demands that he instantly got cracking and phoned Martin Earl with his 'unusual' request - using his real name this time.

Knowing the 1891 diary would be as much use for Maybrick's diary as a Filofax, before it was even posted to him on 26th March, Mike is supposed to have made a beeline for the next auction at Outhwaite & Litherland, scheduled for 31st March, where, as luck would have it, he found something he could actually use and put in the winning bid of £50. O&L were feeling generous that day on the owner's behalf, and the album containing 125 pages of highly collectible WWI photos, worth in excess of £100 according to Mr Litherland, went to Mike for a song. They must also have waived the usual buyer's premium, which would have added 5% or 10% to Mike's winning £50 bid. Either that, or Mike forgot to mention this in his affidavit, when describing in some detail his auction experience, which he thought had been 5 years ago, but again, the very specific scenario dictates that it was only 3.

Finally, the newly acquired photo album was supposedly prepared, and the draft of the diary transferred from the word processor over the following 11 days, in readiness for Mike to take it to London on 13th April.

Of course, if Mike remembered that it took 11 days for Anne to transcribe the diary onto the word processor, from Mike's dictation [which Anne had to keep checking to make sure he was reading it correctly and she was getting it the same as it was in the diary], and remembered Caroline being there while this was all going on, it would have been all too easy for Mike to switch this around and have Anne handwriting the 63 pages of the diary over 11 days, while he dictated the text from the word processor.

As easy as turning the livewire Eddie into the late Tony.

Love,

Caz
X

[Kattrup]

I suspect Sherlock Holmes would have had his work cut out to prove the very specific scenario, which disregards the whole Eddie Lyons/Battlecrease/Saddle/Mike Barrett association, centred on that one day in March 1992, and involves instead the creation of the Maybrick diary over 11 days in early April.

why bring it up, why should anyone regard it at all, is there any evidence of an association? It’s just another smokescreen meant to befuddle and confuse.

Holmes would have been left to grapple with Mike's sworn affidavit of 5th January 1995, which put the planning and also, awkwardly, the execution of the diary back two years to early 1990. Evidently it was not considered a risk too far if the handwriting turned out to be nothing like Maybrick's, and the thorny issue of provenance seems only to have been considered and resolved when Tony Devereux obliged the Barretts by dying unexpectedly in August 1991. By then, the diary had been ready to go for some considerable time, on the Barretts' word processor, so it was just waiting for Mike to source something suitable for its final resting place. What might Holmes have made of the singular timing of Mike's telephone call to Pan Books in March 1992, swiftly followed on their advice by the call to Doreen, claiming he had Jack the Ripper's diary? At this point it was still only in draft form on the word processor, where it had been languishing for the last two years, because a Victorian book hadn't yet been found to accommodate it. Why the sudden impulse on Mike's part to contact someone about it after all that time, only to put himself under pressure to get the finished product ready to be examined, when he got exactly the reaction from Doreen he had been hoping for? And why use a false name, knowing he'd have to own up and give his real name on getting the thumbs up he was after? Was this all part of the plan he'd been working on since 1990? To arouse suspicion from the get-go by lying about his name? He could still have delayed taking the completed diary to London for any number of reasons, but instead the very specific scenario demands that he instantly got cracking and phoned Martin Earl with his 'unusual' request - using his real name this time.

Knowing the 1891 diary would be as much use for Maybrick's diary as a Filofax, before it was even posted to him on 26th March, Mike is supposed to have made a beeline for the next auction at Outhwaite & Litherland, scheduled for 31st March, where, as luck would have it, he found something he could actually use and put in the winning bid of £50. O&L were feeling generous that day on the owner's behalf, and the album containing 125 pages of highly collectible WWI photos, worth in excess of £100 according to Mr Litherland, went to Mike for a song. They must also have waived the usual buyer's premium, which would have added 5% or 10% to Mike's winning £50 bid. Either that, or Mike forgot to mention this in his affidavit, when describing in some detail his auction experience, which he thought had been 5 years ago, but again, the very specific scenario dictates that it was only 3.

Finally, the newly acquired photo album was supposedly prepared, and the draft of the diary transferred from the word processor over the following 11 days, in readiness for Mike to take it to London on 13th April.

Of course, if Mike remembered that it took 11 days for Anne to transcribe the diary onto the word processor, from Mike's dictation [which Anne had to keep checking to make sure he was reading it correctly and she was getting it the same as it was in the diary], and remembered Caroline being there while this was all going on, it would have been all too easy for Mike to switch this around and have Anne handwriting the 63 pages of the diary over 11 days, while he dictated the text from the word processor.

Besides the fact that you really don’t want the above scenario to be true, is there any real reason to think it couldn’t have happened like that? I don’t see any.
Ever heard of Occam’s razor?

incidentally, auction houses don’t decide the price of lots, they just want sales to go ahead, so they usually estimate a higher “worth” for items to entice sellers. An item’s worth is what someone will pay for it. Unless the seller stipulated a minimum, any item can be sold for less than its perceived worth. Why don’t you check a few auctions yourself, you might notice that not all items go for the expected price.

Regarding the 11 days, MB maintained this story over a long period, from 1994 I think and onwards. Again, despite you not liking it, there is no real reason to disbelieve it. The diary is no masterpiece and clearly not reminiscent of a Victorian diary so it could easily have been drafted in a brief time. And besides, if MB & co. did not manage to get it ready in time, they could have postponed the meeting, called in sick or whatever, so it’s not like the 11 days were an absolute deadline.

[Iconoclast]

Ever heard of Occam’s razor?

Electrician finds Victorian scrapbook in Battlecrease House on March 9, 1992. He drives home to where - in the whole of the Merseyside area - Mike Barrett just happens to be knocking loudly to be let into his local pub. Electrician arranges for Barrett to punt the scrapbook to a publisher. Mike Barrett rings Doreen Montgomery on that very same day. Nothing else is required.

How much has Occam's razor shorn away the bullshit there?

[Iconoclast]

I suspect Sherlock Holmes would have had his work cut out to prove the very specific scenario, which disregards the whole Eddie Lyons/Battlecrease/Saddle/Mike Barrett association, centred on that one day in March 1992, and involves instead the creation of the Maybrick diary over 11 days in early April.

Amazing things which happened for real, honest guv'nor:

35,000+ days pass after James Maybrick dies and then - on the very same day in March 1992 - his floorboards are lifted (apparently for the very first time in all of that time) and Mike Barrett chooses that day of all days to ring Doreen Montgomery AND YET THIS IS JUST THE FICKLE HAND OF CHANCE! Honestly, guv, that sort of stuff happens all the time, doesn't it?

Mike Barrett attempts to purchase a genuine Victorian diary and fails miserably but it occurs to him (as time is running rapidly out) to nip along to a local auction house in Liverpool where - lo! - THANKS TO THE FICKLE HAND OF CHANCE there's a Victorian scrapbook for sale. "Get in the back of the net!" says Barrett and he is the winning bidder. Auction house manager says "Wish we'd put a reserve price on that scrapbook with the valuable WWI photographs in - what a rookie error that was on our part - we really need to give ourselves a shake given that this was not exactly our first rodeo!".

The fickle hand of chance plays havoc with the Maybrick scrapbook, by the way. Lord, where on earth would I start to properly outline the endless series of extremely unlikely events that would have to be ascribed to coincidence were he not our man? Oh, I know - my brilliant Society's Pillar!

[Al Bundy's Eyes]

35,000 days you say? Well, lifting those floorboards was a bit of a "one off instance"!

(Sorry, couldn't resist!)

[Kattrup]

How much has Occam's razor shorn away the bullshit there?

Apparently everything to do with evidence and sources? Is there any left showing that anything was found? By the person you Think? When would an electrician go home after work but early enough to meet MB and for him to make a call in business hours? Is there any evidence that the electrician was working that day or do the timesheets in fact show that he wasn’t? These constant sidetracking stories about Battlecrease clearly do not pass muster.

[Observer]

35,000 days you say? Well, lifting those floorboards was a bit of a "one off instance"!

(Sorry, couldn't resist!)

There's always that film from the 1950's set in the East End of London, starring Diana Dors, David Kosoff, Celia Johnston, and Primo Carnera.

"A Scouse with two farthings"

Some great shots of the East End in to be found in yon film, check out the railway arch top of Brick Lane with Fort Vallance in the distance

[c.d.]

Shots of the East End? I'd be more interested in shots of Diana Dors' rear end.

c.d.

[Observer]

Shots of the East End? I'd be more interested in shots of Diana Dors' rear end.

c.d.

A poor imitation of Marilyn Munro c.d. With regard to acting the goat in yon film played a better part than Miss Dors

[Observer]

She made Primo Carnera look like the next Lawrence Olivier

[Iconoclast]

Apparently everything to do with evidence and sources?

Cuts both ways. You can't question a lack of evidence on the one hand and yet favour a version of events with a complete lack of evidence on the other.

Is there any left showing that anything was found?

There are accounts from the electricians themselves which indicate that something was indeed found. But they are only accounts, not proof. Still - considerably better than the inept confession of an alcoholic, I'd venture.

When would an electrician go home after work but early enough to meet MB and for him to make a call in business hours?

Your question is tarnished by a loathsome assumption that electricians work 9 'til 5. You know what assumptions do.

Is there any evidence that the electrician was working that day or do the timesheets in fact show that he wasn’t? These constant sidetracking stories about Battlecrease clearly do not pass muster.

What doesn't pass muster are your questions as they reveal how very little you know about the case. From Smith (soft back, p29): "We now know from Lyons himself that he was at Battlecrease for part of 9th March 1992, so lending considerable weight to my long-held suspicion that it was he who took the diary on that day to show Barrett in The Saddle".

I'll be fascinated to see how you take your razor to that little gem.

PS Here's a hint - do what scrapbook detractors always do and just say he wasn't there. That'll work.

[Kattrup]

What doesn't pass muster are your questions as they reveal how very little you know about the case. From Smith (soft back, p29): "We now know from Lyons himself that he was at Battlecrease for part of 9th March 1992, so lending considerable weight to my long-held suspicion that it was he who took the diary on that day to show Barrett in The Saddle".

I'll be fascinated to see how you take your razor to that little gem.

PS Here's a hint - do what scrapbook detractors always do and just say he wasn't there. That'll work.

Oh is that the unsourced reference to some latterday interview where Lyons states something unknown which Smith interprets as a confession? If we're to take Lyons' unknown statement that it's possible he was present on that day, despite the timesheets showing he wasn't, as gospel, should we not also accept his known statements that he never found the diary and that he did not know MB? Surely you do not consider him a liar only when it suits you?

But you're right, I know very little about the case. It is not very interesting, I only follow it for the amusement value.