One Incontrovertible, Unequivocal, Undeniable Fact Which Refutes the Diary

[rjpalmer]

The businessman dated the offer of the diary to 1991 or 1992.

Interesting.

We are constantly told that Barrett's refence to 1990 (1991 in the handwritten draft) makes his January 1995 affidavit a deal breaker, but the businessman is given a pass even though he potentially dates the sale to a time before Dodd's floorboards were even lifted by more than a 50/50 margin.

What's good for the goose clearly isn't good for the gander!

And when did he first give this account to a third party?

Why are you and Jay Hartley under the impression that a manuscript written the previous week or over the previous days would "drip" (Hartley's word) from the pages 12 or 24 or 48 hours later?

Do you imagine that the Victorians penned a letter and then had to let it dry for several days or hours before inserting it inside an envelope for fear of smudging?

On what is this belief based?

Thanks in advance for your time.

**bump**

[caz]

When two things happen simultaneously (as they do constantly), we generally do not call them coincidence because they are simply co-incidence - they simply innocently occurred in the same timeframe quite by chance alone, utterly unconnected from one another.

But when two things happen simultaneously and they appear to be connected, we are left with two possible conclusions:

1) They occurred purely by random chance, or
2) Something caused them to happen in the same timeframe

To conclude which is correct we can assess the odds of them occurring by chance and decide if we are willing to accept those odds as reasonably likely to occur by chance alone. If however we have some information which links those two events, we are extremely unlikely to favour chance especially as the odds of chance along being the cause decreases.

So we have a 36,000-1 probability which is staggeringly unlikely to be caused by chance alone (but could have been) coupled with a public house which directly links our two events together.

With that information, the seasoned detective and statistician agree that chance almost certainly played no part in this particular co-incidence of two events. It’s the only reasonable conclusion to draw (until evidence points to the contrary).

But to draw it, you have to be reasonable …

And there’s the rub, dear readers.

There's also the little matter of both Mike and Eddie suddenly making themselves scarce later that same week in March: Mike claiming he was going off to York on the Thursday or Friday, during his daughter's term time, and would be out of phone contact until his return; Eddie not showing up on the Friday when the Skem contract resumed, despite having worked on it solidly with Jim Bowling from the start. It's why they were both taken on by Colin Rhodes in late November 1991. The contract was completed in Eddie's continued absence.

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

Interesting.

We are constantly told that Barrett's refence to 1990 (1991 in the handwritten draft) makes his January 1995 affidavit a deal breaker, but the businessman is given a pass even though he potentially dates the sale to a time before Dodd's floorboards were even lifted by more than a 50/50 margin.

What's good for the goose clearly isn't good for the gander!

And when did he first give this account to a third party?

Not sure RJ is 'constantly' told that it's Barrett's 1990 [or 1991] that makes his affidavit 'a deal breaker'. The whole thing looks like tripe from start to finish, from where I'm sitting, for a whole number of reasons other than just his evident problem with dating Devereux's death and the order of the claimed events.

And I'm not sure RJ ought to be comparing a known liar's vengeful claims with the consistent and credible recollections of Tim Martin-Wright. If he is not inventing the story of being offered Jack the Ripper's diary in Liverpool, it hardly matters as long as he knows it happened before the story first broke in the newspapers. He spoke about it later, after seeing Shirley's book and realising this was the same diary he had been offered, and he wasn't the only one to remember it either - unlike in Mike's case, where nobody else could provide independent support for anything he ever claimed about his part in the diary story.

Tim recalls thinking to himself at the time of the offer: "Jack the Ripper's diary? I'll believe it when I see it." He clearly wasn't expecting much for his £25.

[caz]

This is why I choose to no longer engage with you, Caroline.

And yet the man can't help it and still does.

If one simply punches the words "Rawes" and "rjpalmer" into the Search Engine, it will become abundantly obvious that I have mentioned Rawes a total of 9 times in the history of these message boards.

In none of those 9 posts did I ever say anything even remotely similar to what you are now claiming. You have a very bad habit of putting words in the mouths of others.

Either your reading comprehension skills are truly in tatters, or you are confusing me with someone else (highly unlikely considering your obsession), or you're deliberately deceiving this forum.

All I ever pointed out is that the event described by Rawes took place in the Summer of 1992--after the Diary had already been brought to London.

That's it. I have never denied this conversation took place, or that Rawes recalled Eddie saying that he "found something important" in July. I simply voiced my skepticism that this vague statement could have been a reference to finding THE DIARY OF JACK THE RIPPER four months earlier.

The sentence construction above may have given anyone with even fewer comprehension skills than I possess the false impression that Rawes recalled Eddie saying he had found something important in July. Being pedantic, I would have preferred the less ambiguous construction: Rawes recalled Eddie saying in July: "I've found something important."

Rawes didn't know Eddie had worked in the house previously, or anything about floorboards being raised on that one occasion in March, so he had no reason to think this find had not been made by Eddie on the current job. "I found something important [i.e. when I worked here last time]" sounds identical to: "I've found something important [i.e. on this job]", so Rawes was pretty much bound to come away with the latter impression, right or wrong, as Eddie didn't give him any further information. Rawes's advice to tell the boss tends to confirm an assumption that Eddie had not yet done anything with this important find.

So we have an important find made by Eddie in Battlecrease, either in March or July 1992, and reported to Rawes in the July.

We also have Tim Martin-Wright being told, either in late 1991 or late 1992, that Jack the Ripper's diary was found during a rewiring job and is up for grabs, only to learn it has already been sold.

Then we have Mike's diary arriving in London in April 1992.

Assuming from RJ's latest posts that he is not actually denying that these conversations took place, but merely doesn't believe that Mike's diary was the subject of any of them, I have to wonder how he is reconciling the two events - one featuring a Battlecrease curiosity, that was NOT Jack the Ripper's diary; the other a Jack the Ripper curiosity, that was NOT the Maybrick diary - with a third event, involving Mike and Anne in the coincidental creation of a third curiosity in early April 1992: a diary that has Jack the Ripper himself coming from Battlecrease.

From RJ's point of view, he needs these conversations with Rawes and Martin-Wright like a hole in the head, regardless of when he thinks they took place, between late 1991 and late 1992. His playhouse must be groaning under the weight of coincidence and the burden of a three-curiosity problem. RJ needs the three events to be unconnected and to involve three different curiosities, but with the common theme of Battlecrease and/or Jack the Ripper.

I'm not sure how RJ is going to stop his own playhouse collapsing around him. It won't work if he tries the old "Don't look over here, look over there" trick. He can argue as much as he likes in favour of July 1992 for Eddie's find and late 1991 for Tim's diary conversations, but it will change nothing for him. His playhouse is still coming down. So arguing against March 1992 for Eddie and late 1992 for Tim could look like a rather mean-spirited attempt to tear my playhouse down with it [thank you, Paul Young], because there is no surprise that those dates work all too perfectly with the one curiosity being found and liberated in March 1992; launched on the quiet in a London literary agency in April; secretly snapped up by Smith in June; mentioned with a grin by the finder in July; and offered - too late - to another potential snapper-upper for cash in December. A chain of connected events beginning on 9th March 1992, which relate to a single find, of the kind that doesn't "grow on trees", as Doreen put it, would have William of Ockham nodding sagely and grinning from ear to ear in his grave. God knows he'd be turning in it while grappling with the thoroughly disconnected three-curiosity problem needed to sustain a vengeful liar's auction claims.

If trees have enough curiosities growing on them I suppose one could open a shop. Now what would be a good old Dickensian name for it?

The Old Curiositree Shop.

Run by a big old bumbling buffoon.

[Iconoclast]

A chain of connected events beginning on 9th March 1992, which relate to a single find, of the kind that doesn't "grow on trees", as Doreen put it, would have William of Ockham nodding sagely and grinning from ear to ear in his grave. God knows he'd be turning in it while grappling with the thoroughly disconnected three-curiosity problem needed to sustain a vengeful liar's auction claims.
If trees have enough curiosities growing on them I suppose one could open a shop. Now what would be a good old Dickensian name for it?
The Old Curiositree Shop.
Run by a big old bumbling buffoon.

Oh you are a one, Caz!

The Old Curiositree Shop! (Guffaw!) Run by RJ Palmer, the bumbling buffoon!

If I could borrow William's dictum a moment (though I am minded to recall that in the modern age it is known as 'Soothsayer's Razor'), Barrett's 'steps back in amazement' [thank you, Eddie Large RIP] was a moment when he first learned of the work having been completed in James Maybrick's home at a time which might very well have instantly explained to him where his precious scrapbook had ultimately sprung from, and which was subsequently misremembered by the other protagonists in this drama as being inside Battlecrease House or outside it, but which ultimately is only of relevance to those of us who are intrigued by his tubby comedian impersonation. Did he step back in amazement or stumble or stagger or was it more in shock or awe or disappointment? Ultimately, Ockham's switchblade (I'm surprised you needed to use his, by the way, Cazio - maybe you miscalculated there?) tells us to cut out all the querying about the irrelevant and home in (as Dodd did, ha ha) on the fact that it was reported that Barrett did actually recoil. Three people said he recoiled and one does not recoil spontaneously (unless one is currently identifying as a spring - it's possible, just trying to be inclusive here). Feldman may very well have had an agenda in that moment, but I don't see what agenda Messrs Begg and Howells were working to unless it was that oft-abused agenda of speaking the truth.

For those of you who - like Lord Orsam - long since lost my thread because the above was 'too long' (read, 'too clever'), what I am suggesting is that the evidence is very strong indeed that Mike Barrett literally staggered back when he made the connection between that fateful day he acquired James Maybrick's scrapbook and those fateful days when work was carried out on James Maybrick's floorboards.

Hey - don't shoot the messenger - just pointing out the blindingly obvious here!

[Scott Nelson]

Or Mike "recoiled" because he got the Diary from Devereux a couple of years earlier and couldn't assimilate it with a potential newer discovery on "floorboards day" (when nothing was actually found).

[caz]

Hi Scotty, Ike,

I don't believe Mike ever did find out - or indeed figure out - when Floorboards Day was, or that it had coincided with Doreen's Day, when that first call was made to her office about the Battlecrease Bugle. When he recoiled and something connected, in February 1993, there was no way for him to know when Eddie might have worked in Battlecrease and had the opportunity to find the "old book". He did try to find out, but there's no evidence that anyone with that information ever told him.

We also know that Eddie didn't find out, until after Mike's death, when Doreen's Day was - or even what Doreen's Day was - let alone that it had coincided with Floorboards Day.

I doubt the two Saddle scallies were ever as thick as thieves, to coin a phrase, but I do feel they might have behaved rather differently had each known what the other knew about the timing of the phone call in relation to the floorboards.

All together now...

"I'm not having that!!"

Love,

The Fat Lady [is it time yet? She's warming up the old vocal cords for one of Liverpool's favourites: "Sweeeet Caroline... and what have you"]
X

[rjpalmer]

Yeah, I did notice that Ike had a different viewpoint from myself regarding the 11-day creation theory. So glad it gave RJ a 'kick' when someone else alerted him to the fact that Ike and I are not joined at the hip.

Sorry Caz, I should have realized you wouldn't get the joke without it being explained. Since I have a moment, let me help you out.

The funny part wasn't that you and Ike aren't joined at the hip; the funny part is that your contradictory guesstimations expose just how desperate you both were to come up with an excuse--any excuse--why Mike and Anne couldn't have written the diary.

"They couldn't have written it--11 days was too short!"

"They couldn't have written it--11 days are too long!"

Obviously, no thought went into either of your two guesses. What thought could have gone into them? Neither one of you were there, neither of you know how long it takes Anne to write a page, neither one of you know how much time she was allotted to work on the diary at night, etc. etc. It's just random guesswork, and it backfired badly because you came with completely different answers.

Another example of this desperation was the recent question about how Martin Earl could have sold Mike a blank or partially blank diary from 1880-1890 if there weren't any dates stamped on the booklet.

Doh! Was this Thom's idea of a brainteaser? Sorry, Tom, but I think a reasonably intelligent 10-year-old could figure it out.

Maybe because a partially blank diary, if Earl could find one, would have handwriting in it that would indicate the date?????

Look no further than the image below:




Notice anything? No stamped dates anywhere in sight, but we still know it was written in 1874. The handwriting itself indicates the age of the diary.

Once Barrett cut out all the used pages, he'd be left with a blank diary. Yes, there would be no markings to indicate the date--just as there are no markings in the Edwardian photograph album that Mike eventually used--but who cares? He would know it would forensically pass any tests it might be subjected to, which was the whole point of his request to Earl.


And please don't give me any more nonsense about Mike then turning around and using a modern ink. This is more grandstanding to the cheap seats. Diamine Ink was a Victorian-style ink of iron gall with nigrosine as a sighting agent. Harold Brough, having suitable braincells, realized that any hoaxer who went into that art shop would have asked for an appropriate ink. There is not one JOT of evidence that the sale clerk would know that Diamine ink contained the tell-tale chloroacetamide, and Voller himself said that it would be difficult to detect.

I swear y'all spend your time putting ridiculous hurdles in your own path in order NOT to solve what is, in reality, a very simple problem.

And please note what the bookseller calls this entirely blank book with writing in it: A mid-Victorian Diary.

As always, thank you for your time.

[Iconoclast]

My God - so much disingenuousness, or else plain self-delusion, I can't decide which, but I know whichever it is, RJ has quite blatantly invited us all down the garden path ...

Sorry Caz, I should have realized you wouldn't get the joke without it being explained. Since I have a moment, let me help you out.
The funny part wasn't that you and Ike aren't joined at the hip; the funny part is that your contradictory guesstimations expose just how desperate you both were to come up with an excuse--any excuse--why Mike and Anne couldn't have written the diary.
"They couldn't have written it--11 days was too short!"
"They couldn't have written it--11 days are too long!"
Obviously, no thought went into either of your two guesses.

See what RJ has attempted to do there, dear readers? If not, let me explain. He has attempted to imply that - because Caz and I drew diametrically-opposite views on how long it would take to both create the diary text on the PC and transcribe it into a blank scrapbook - both of our arguments were necessarily ill-thought out! One of us being wrong, or even both of us being wrong, does not tell the reader anything about how much thought went into the thought.

But please don't be fooled, dear readers. RJ has a sub-text here and it reads, 'Caz and Ike are indeed joined-at-the-hip and therefore look at how stupid they are not to have co-ordinated their answers'. Fall for it if you want, but my role is to save you all from **** tricks like this.

What thought could have gone into them? Neither one of you were there, neither of you know how long it takes Anne to write a page, neither one of you know how much time she was allotted to work on the diary at night, etc. etc. It's just random guesswork, and it backfired badly because you came with completely different answers.

Written with not a single hint of irony (well, he is a Yank, I guess). If anyone has forgotten, the paragraph above was written by a man who possibly was not living in 12 Goldie Street between March 9 and April 12, 1992; who arguably was not with Mike Barrett at the Bluecoat Chambers buying ink; and who very possibly was not at Outwaite & Litherland on March 31, 1992, with a sweating Mike Barrett clutching Billy Graham's £50 tightly in his mitts.

But - if he wasn't at any of these events - it doesn't matter because his ego knows better and his ego is telling him he was there and he knows exactly what happened. Talk about wanting to have your cake and eat it!

Another example of this desperation was the recent question about how Martin Earl could have sold Mike a blank or partially blank diary from 1880-1890 if there weren't any dates stamped on the booklet.

Oh Lord, get ready for this attempt at deception, dear readers - it'll cork you! The question clearly relates to how Earl could justify providing a notebook when a diary from 1880-1890 had been requested, but RJ decides to interpret it quite differently, to hugely embarrassing effect. Muddy, muddy, muddy.

Maybe because a partially blank diary, if Earl could find one, would have handwriting in it that would indicate the date?????

See what RJ has attempted to do there, dear readers? He is evidently from one of America's many braindead presuppositionalist cults whose arguments in favour of God are based upon presuppositions about what God must be. And fooled by this mental cheating, he applies it to Victorian notebooks too! See how he tells you that a partially blank Victorian notebook (which he calls a 'diary' as his first presupposition) 'would have [his second presupposition] handwriting in it that would indicate the date'?????

Seriously, if you load the deck that heavily before you make an argument, no wonder the incredulous becomes reality for you.

Notice anything?

Not really, RJ, no, but then again that's certainly never stopped you in the past ...

No stamped dates anywhere in sight ...

Correct - and that's because when it was purchased it was quite clearly a blank Victorian notebook!

... but we still know it was written in 1874.

Because whoever bought it wrote the date in it from time to time, I wonder?

The handwriting itself indicates the age of the diary.

Thought so. The handwriting itself indicates the age of the notebook. In truth, the inclusion of some written dates indicates the age of the writing, but tells us nothing about the age of the notebook which could have been produced in 1815 for all we know. That's actually irrelevant, but I am just pedantically picking holes in his presuppositions in order to highlight how frequently he throws them around.

Once Barrett cut out all the used pages, he'd be left with a blank ...

Notebook?

diary.

A blank notebook is nothing other than a blank notebook. Once someone writes in it with a chronological tale about their life it becomes something that we are all used to calling a 'diary' (because of the function the author has used it for). Doesn't matter whether dates are added or not, we'd all call it a 'diary' and not blink, even though we know it's a notebook used as a diary.

Yes, there would be no markings to indicate the date ...

Of course not, for Christ's sake. It was blank notebook.

--just as there are no markings in the Edwardian photograph album that Mike eventually used ..

Of course not, for Christ's sake. It was blank scrapbook.

--but who cares?

Evidently not RJ or Orsam. But I care, and my loyal band of dear readers care.

He would know it would forensically pass any tests it might be subjected to, which was the whole point of his request to Earl.

And RJ should know, after all he was there when Mike made the call to Earl!

And please don't give me any more nonsense about Mike then turning around and using a modern ink.

Are you off your head, RJ? You evidently weren't addressing this proposition to me as - quite clearly - someone who believes James Maybrick wrote the text in the Victorian scrapbook is never going to argue that the ink was a modern one!

I swear y'all spend your time putting ridiculous hurdles in your own path in order NOT to solve what is, in reality, a very simple problem.

Ever the cry of the pre-suppositionalist. "I've already decided what bits are true so the story I build on those bits must also be true".

And please note what the bookseller ...

See what RJ has attempted to do there, dear readers? Surely what is relevant here is the manufacturer not the marketing guy trying to sell it? Did the manufacturer stamp 'Diary' on it anywhere? You know, when they made their blank notebook, did they stamp 'Diary' on it somewhere just for jolly?

... calls this entirely blank book with writing in it: A mid-Victorian Diary.

And your point is, caller? The 'Lady of leisure' who bought the previously blank Victorian notebook turned it into something we can all recognise as a diary. Whoopy doo.

Quick sidebar to make my point: When I was a kid in the 1970s, I used to love playing with a computer I had made out of a used (not partially-used, note) box of Kelloggs Cornflakes and a few of my mum's knitting needles and some card. If I attempted to sell it to my mate, would I advertise it as an empty box of Kelloggs Cornflakes (which it was, of course) or would I use grander language in order to flog it? "Hey, Wally, do you want to swap your brand new Chopper for my multithreading, high resolution portable personal computer?". You never know, he might fall for it - after all, in terms of how I had converted it, it was indeed a multithreading, high resolution portable personal computer (okay, the multithreading may have been a stretch for 1975). But was it not all along still an empty box of Cornflakes and no amount of presuppositionalist nonsense would ever convince anyone otherwise?

As always, thank you for your time.

I'd say you're welcome if you hadn't just wasted so much of it.

[Iconoclast]

Yes, there would be no markings to indicate the date--just as there are no markings in the Edwardian photograph album that Mike eventually used ...

Ouch - totally missed this sneaky presupposition which Muddy the Mud Boy threw in just to gently plant unjustifiable seeds of doubt in the minds of my dear readers.

Once again, this is why I am here, everyone - to save all of you from the sneakiness of the long-distance poster ...

[Al Bundy's Eyes]

Hi Caz,

I notice how quickly RJ drops Rawes like a hot brick when arguing for 'nearly a 100% chance' that stories would circulate among the former P&R crew from April 1993, thanks to Feldy 'yammering on about' Jack the Ripper's diary over the phone. Unfortunately for RJ, the same 'stories' had been doing the rounds months before Feldy came on the scene, and long before anything had reached the papers about Jack the Ripper supposedly being a Scouser called Maybrick, whose diary may have been found under Dodd's floorboards.

Purely for my own curiosity, can you please expand on this? Who was talking about something coming out of Battlecrease before Feldman contacted P+R? Is there a reliable record of these rumours that can be verified as originating from before that call?

The other little problem is that very little was in the public domain by April 1993 about the diary, so RJ is right in one sense: the former P&R crew members contacted by Feldman would have wondered what the heck he was on about, and would have had no information - useful or otherwise - to offer in exchange for hard cash, if they knew nothing except for what they could have read in the local papers.

Did Feldman make a detailed record of his initial call to Colin Rhodes? Reason I ask is that to get an answer from Colin, Feldman must have given some inclination as to what he was trying to find out. He may not have specifically asked if a book wrapped in brown paper was found, but he must have needed to tell Colin that he was trying to establish if something was either found or taken. What details are known of this initial contact with P+R?

Any help would be greatly appreciated, thanks.

[rjpalmer]

Ouch - totally missed this sneaky presupposition which Muddy the Mud Boy threw in just to gently plant unjustifiable seeds of doubt in the minds of my dear readers.

Once again, this is why I am here, everyone - to save all of you from the sneakiness of the long-distance poster ...

Glad you (finally) caught it, Ike! It was deliberate and it wasn't the first time.

If Caroline Brown (and your own good self?) can continually refer to the photo album as Victorian, I am going to start referring to it as Edwardian as a counterbalance to her less-than-judicial declaration.

That, Dear Sir, is why I'm here.

Rendell's team referred to it as Victorian or Edwardian and it has never been conclusively dated.

I've tried to contact Dr. Nick Eastaugh to see if he could shed any light on the corner of what appears to have been a 20th Century photograph found in the spine of the photograph album, but he never responded to my emails. We know from a statement made by Keith Skinner in 1999 and extraordinary fact: that one of the single-most important pieces of forensic evidence available to the Diary investigators was somehow misplaced or lost. My hope is that Dr. E might have still made some note of it or had a clear memory of it.

I merely wanted to ask a question that your friend 'FDC' didn't appear to have asked: was the paper albumen or sepia, which should have been obvious enough from a mere visual examination? Having received no reply, this is still an open question and I trust you will see its importance and join me in trying to find an answer to it.

Enjoy your weekend.

[rjpalmer]

And your point is, caller? The 'Lady of leisure' who bought the previously blank Victorian notebook turned it into something we can all recognise as a diary. Whoopy doo.

Precisely! And MIKE BARRET would recognize it as a diary, too, when he imagined such an item showing up in his mailbox after placing his request with Martin Earl.


Your silly comments, Ike, show you are entirely partisan when it comes to analyzing the problem at hand. I've seldom seen anyone so dead set on throwing hurdles in front of any path that he doesn't have the courage or intellectual curiosity to tread. 'Oh no! Don't go down that path. That might mean Mike and Anne wrote it!'

Yet, in effect, you are now claiming you can read Mike Barrett's mind.

If Mike was willing to accept a partially used Diary from Martin Earl (and he was!) why wouldn't a previously blank 'notebook' as you call, partially filled-out by a Victorian Lady of leisure and thus turned into a diary have been acceptable to him?

How it must goad you that so many people refer to what used to be a blank Edwardian (or Victorian) photo album as a diary.

Even our old friend, Tom Mitchell did!

Let's face it, Old Bean. I don't want to be unduly harsh, but the intellectual dishonesty that is so apparent in this kind of hair-splitting will be abundantly obvious to your more astute readers, and even to most of your dull-witted readers, but I suppose if you are pitching the Maybrick-as-Ripper theory you've already determined that your target audience will be found among the nosepickers and spitball makers at the very rear of the classroom.

[Iconoclast]

Glad you (finally) caught it, Ike! It was deliberate and it wasn't the first time.
If Caroline Brown (and your own good self?) can continually refer to the photo album as Victorian, I am going to start referring to it as Edwardian as a counterbalance to her less-than-judicial declaration.

Well I honestly hadn't noticed that, RJ, but in all fairness to you it is only right that you make this stand. We can stand together for once (and once only!) on this issue. The reason why I continually write 'Victorian' is to continually remind everyone that the scrapbook is genuinely of that type and time. It's not a major point, I know, and I have rather got stuck in a groove typing it, but it clearly serves a purpose for me otherwise I guess I wouldn't keep doing it. Nevertheless, every time I type it, I mean Victorian/Edwardian (and if you check back - please don't, it isn't worth it - on Casebook or in my brilliant Society's Pillar, I'm confident that you will find the evidence of my juxtaposing the two ages). The reason why I deliberately avoid adding 'Edwardian' is that it is highly likely to deflect from whatever argument I am making: so, if I refer to the 'genuinely Victorian/Edwardian scrapbook', I am more likely to prompt a baying mob of Naysayers pointing-out the impossibility of my back-end than I am a steady stream of rational supportive or counter arguments to whatever point I am making. All that said, perhaps it is time for me to drop the 'Victorian'.

That, Dear Sir, is why I'm here.

And that purpose I would utterly support and applaud, but not at the expense of the truth. I call you (who are a perfectly reasonable person one-on-one, as am I) 'Muddy the Mud Boy' because you and my mate Orsam (who is also a perfectly reasonable person one-on-one) and others of your ilk combine bits of fable and bits of fact in ways which I find disingenuous to the truth of the matter. And - of course - you feel the same (I assume) about me, and presumably Caz and ero b and Owly, etc..

Rendell's team referred to it as Victorian or Edwardian and it has never been conclusively dated.

I personally hadn't recalled that it was Rendell, but I well recall that it has not conclusively been shown to be Victorian.

I've tried to contact Dr. Nick Eastaugh to see if he could shed any light on the corner of what appears to have been a 20th Century photograph found in the spine of the photograph album, but he never responded to my emails. We know from a statement made by Keith Skinner in 1999 and extraordinary fact: that one of the single-most important pieces of forensic evidence available to the Diary investigators was somehow misplaced or lost. My hope is that Dr. E might have still made some note of it or had a clear memory of it.

It is true that the object which appeared to be the corner of a photograph did go missing during one of the various tests on the scrapbook, and that is little short of criminal as the facts are the facts and that was a big one but equally - and without checking - I recall that there was research conducted on it. There must have been because conclusions were drawn on it - namely that it matched the size of the imprints in the frontspiece (sp?) and the claim had been made (as you well know) that the size of those prints pointed towards the 1910s rather than the 1880s.

I merely wanted to ask a question that your friend 'FDC' didn't appear to have asked: was the paper albumen or sepia, which should have been obvious enough from a mere visual examination?

In fairness, FDC is more of an unpaid, enthusiastic research assistant but the low (no) pay seems to have got to him as I haven't received any of his trenchant views and theories in simply ages (quick check, suggests to me that he hasn't been at his desk doing his contractual work for me since late April!). Some people just abuse the very notion of a zero-hours contract! Anyway, I imagine that this wee hint will spark the old grey matter and result in a torrent of new theories which I can file away to use in my remarkable Society's Pillar 2025. Tee hee.

Having received no reply, this is still an open question and I trust you will see its importance and join me in trying to find an answer to it.

Well I'd love to be of assistance but - as the Dark Lord has said (or inferred) - I'm no chemist and this stuff is well beyond my ken, ken?

Enjoy your weekend.

I cannot hope to until the Grouse season starts, but not for the Grouse, of course. Anyway, it's only Thursday - loads of bantering exchanges to go until the emptiness of a Saturday without the beautiful game in black and white stripes.

[Iconoclast]

Precisely! And MIKE BARRET would recognize it as a diary, too, when he imagined such an item showing up in his mailbox after placing his request with Martin Earl.

Stop it, RJ! Surely you see the yawning chasm you are digging for yourself here?

Your silly comments, Ike, show you are entirely partisan when it comes to analyzing the problem at hand. I've seldom seen anyone so dead set on throwing hurdles in front of any path that he doesn't have the courage or intellectual curiosity to tread. 'Oh no! Don't go down that path. That might mean Mike and Anne wrote it!'

I think my dear readers (even the thick ones) would disagree with you there. I am the very bastion of balanced, honest commentary.

Yet, in effect, you are now claiming you can read Mike Barrett's mind.
If Mike was willing to accept a partially used Diary from Martin Earl (and he was!) why wouldn't a previously blank 'notebook' as you call, partially filled-out by a Victorian Lady of leisure and thus turned into a diary have been acceptable to him?

Okay, correct me if I'm wrong but isn't this a bit of a yawning chasm? Are you seriously suggesting that Barrett would accept a partially-used Victorian notebook which had been used as a 'diary' by a Lady of leisure (or indeed by anyone else) and would thus have left those pages in in order to prove it was genuinely Victorian? Surely that would raise more red flags than a red flag seller on Red Flag Day?

If - on the other hand - he would accept such a 'diary', tear out the written pages which proved it to be genuinely Victorian, then write up his magnum opus in the remaining pages, why would he not have simply requested a Victorian notebook as that is what he would have turned it back into?

None of this proves why Mike requested what he requested, but hopefully it shows my dear readers (perhaps not the thick ones) how nonsensical your trumpeted examples were.

How it must goad you that so many people refer to what used to be a blank Edwardian (or Victorian) photo album as a diary.

Not at all. I call it a scrapbook because that's what it was, but I appreciate that it functionally became a 'diary'.

Let's face it, Old Bean. I don't want to be unduly harsh, but the intellectual dishonesty that is so apparent in this kind of hair-splitting will be abundantly obvious to your more astute readers, and even to most of your dull-witted readers, but I suppose if you are pitching the Maybrick-as-Ripper theory you've already determined that your target audience will be found among the nosepickers and spitball makers at the very rear of the classroom.

Well, if it was good enough for me back in the seventies, it's good enough for my dear readers in the post-Nineties (especially the thick ones) ...