Maybrick--a Problem in Logic

[Graham]

I don't really wish to get involved in any of this just now, but I would remind RJ that in October 1995 the Diary was shown to Alec Voller, who was then Chief Chemist of Diamine Inks Ltd, Liverpool (a company with which I incidentally had business dealings). Voller - and if anyone should know it's he - stated categorically that (a) the Diary ink is not Diamine; and (b) it had been on the paper for a long time - 90 years he felt.

Graham

[caz]

I thought I would take the liberty of asking Keith to clarify his views regarding the watch, and he made a few salient points which I'm happy to report back (I trust he doesn't mind).

Keith sketched out a scenario based on your pointers to explain the mechanics of who forged the watch, when and how. He wanted to see how that plays against the known facts. In other words – is it credible? He had assumed that you were interested in doing the same. When Keith saw James Maybrick’s signature on the original marriage document at the Guildhall Library in London on January 16th 1995, apparently it struck him how similar it was to the scratched signature inside the watch and – indeed - it still does (I’m sure I’ve seen this myself in one of the many books and I agree with him). He didn’t say he saw it as a ‘fact’ (although you rather implied that he had, Roger).

Hi Ike,

If I may take the liberty of helping out here, Keith has suggested to me the following minor amendment to his scenario to make it work better for R.J:

On April 22nd 1993 Robbie reads in the Liverpool Daily Post that a book is going to be published naming James Maybrick as Jack the Ripper based on a diary that has been found. This gives Robbie an idea. Swiftly reading up about Jack the Ripper he notes the initials of the victims and guesses what James Maybrick’s signature would look like...

Does that do it for you now, R.J?

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

O, and if I may anticipate an objection, Keith, I too dismiss "debilitating" data, except that I don't view it as debilitating: Rod McNeil's ion migration conclusions. I feel I am correct in dismissing them, because Eastaugh and other scientists couldn't replicate his methods or explain how they COULD work, and McNeil himself later drastically altered his statement and evidently never used the technique again. The last time I heard, he was trying to develop ways of raising shellfish in Montana. Anyway, McNeil's incomprehensible conclusion directly runs counter to Baxendale's thoroughly understandable one--the ink quickly gave up color. When Leeds repeated the experiment a couple years later, the ink was now bonded with the paper. There is really only one rational explanation, isn't there?

May I jump in here with a couple of questions, R.J, which I'm pretty sure I've asked before, but can't remember if I got a definitive response.

Do you know how the solubility might have been affected if the old book had emerged from a dark place, away from normal atmospheric conditions and unopened since the day the last entry was written - however long ago or recently that may have been - and was then tested fairly soon afterwards? Would it be so surprising to find the result was different after two years spent being opened and shut and pored over and examined in completely different conditions?

The point is, Baxendale's conclusion was based on at least one complete unknown - the condition this old book was kept in prior to March 1992. I mean it must have been kept somewhere up until then, whether the diary was already written in it or not. And if we knew this was added after it surfaced [whether that was in an auction room at the end of March 1992 or in an old house on 9th], we wouldn't have needed Baxendale to tell us.

Love,

Caz
X

[Iconoclast]

Please hold it right there, Keith. I don’t accept your premise. Why do you insist that Robbie Johnson had to hoof it down to Somerset House and examine Maybrick’s will?

I thought I would take the liberty of asking Keith to clarify his views regarding the watch, and he made a few salient points which I'm happy to report back (I trust he doesn't mind).

Keith sketched out a scenario based on your pointers to explain the mechanics of who forged the watch, when and how. He wanted to see how that plays against the known facts. In other words – is it credible? He had assumed that you were interested in doing the same. When Keith saw James Maybrick’s signature on the original marriage document at the Guildhall Library in London on January 16th 1995, apparently it struck him how similar it was to the scratched signature inside the watch and – indeed - it still does (I’m sure I’ve seen this myself in one of the many books and I agree with him). He didn’t say he saw it as a ‘fact’ (although you rather implied that he had, Roger).

You hunted down ‘leads’ far and wide. In my opinion, you eventually uncovered enough data to answer Begg’s 3 questions: who, when, and why? You are rightfully the hero of this investigation, but, for whatever reason, you don’t accept the obvious conclusion that is discernible in the data that you, yourself, have compiled.

Keith's a very humble guy and he was adamant that there are no heroes in this investigation, Roger. There are only people who seek the truth about the origins of this document and this artefact (hey – I include myself, by the way!). That does include you and the Great Eye of Darkness Lord Orsam (my description not Keith's, by the way) – but he doesn’t get why you continue the quest as you have clearly made up your mind that the scrapbook is a modern hoax created by Mike Barrett and his co-conspirators – and that the watch is a modern hoax created by Robbie Johnson on the back of the scrapbook. As Keith points out in his email to me, this issue (i.e., his views) seems to be one for him to resolve and really shouldn’t need to involve anyone else.

I hope I have captured his thoughts felicitously. If not, the error was mine not his.

[caz]

I'll have to check when I have the time, Caz, but I don't think you are accurate. I don't think it was "one" item, and only one item, that was missing from the press reports of Eddowes' belongings. I seem to remember that this is another error that has crept into the Diary mythology. I think there was something like a ball of twine and another item or two, also not mentioned, but I may get back to you on that.

The standard explanation is that the items mentioned in the press had been discovered by the police while Kate's body was in situ in Mitre Square, while the tin match box empty and twine, etc., had been concealed in her clothing and was not discovered until she was stripped at the mortuary. Which raises the question as to how on earth 'Maybrick' would have known of these items in the limited time he spent in the dark shadows of the square.

It is the retention of the clumsy grammar of the inventory list "tin match box empty" (what the hell, was Maybrick Scandinavian or something to write in such a fashion?) that gives the game away. Or at least does to us delusional 'modern hoax' theorists.

Hi R.J,

I expect Mike thought it would be a neat trick to have Maybrick know about the empty tin match box [I don't think a ball of twine was mentioned in the diary?] because he could have handed it to Eddowes, possibly as a distraction, and she quickly pocketed it. Simples. I often see Stride's cachous as a distraction, as I am increasingly seeing these deviations from the crucial events of 1994, which I was hoping you were going to concentrate on a while longer. The point is that your unsophisticated forger made it crystal clear that Sir Jim left a 'clue' at the scene, which he believed Abberline was holding back because nothing had been mentioned about it in his daily rag. So it's blindingly obvious that your modern forger wanted this to be something that came from the killer himself, whether it was found on the victim in Mitre Square or later at the mortuary.

And here you are again, being selective with your material, in order to invent some twaddle about Sir Jim sounding Scandinavian. Really, R.J, I expected better of you than this. The phrase, as used in the diary, appears only once, while Sir Jim is trying out more of his dodgy doggerel, and it's not even in the same form as it appeared in the original inventory.

Sir Jim,
[the] tin match box [was] empty
[next four lines crossed through]
[the] first whore [was] no good

One whore no good,
decided Sir Jim strike another.
I showed no fright and indeed no light,
damn it, the tin box was empty

Does the line 'first whore no good' also make Sir Jim sound Scandinavian to you? Its structure is identical to that of 'tin match box empty', but unfortunately for your argument it wasn't pinched from some misogynistic ripperologist's inventory of the victims - much to the chagrin of a certain female author no doubt.

Anyway, Mike liked the result so much - with his cheesy pun about striking a whore but not striking a light - that Anne had to write it out twice. There's dedication for you. And, as they say, if you believe that...

Love,

Caz
X

[Iconoclast]

As far as I can tell, you alone had the wisdom and discipline to make detailed notes of the investigation into the Maybrick diary. You hunted down ‘leads’ far and wide. In my opinion, you eventually uncovered enough data to answer Begg’s 3 questions: who, when, and why? You are rightfully the hero of this investigation, but, for whatever reason, you don’t’ accept the obvious conclusion that is discernable in the data that you, yourself, have compiled. The two ‘rocks’ of the modern hoax reality are Baxendale’s solubility test, showing the document was new, and Martin Earl’s advertisement, showing that one or more of the occupants of Goldie Street were behind it. Any ‘solution’ that disregards this “debilitating” data, to use the term Howells and Skinner used in another context, is doomed to failure.

We should probably draw a line under this particular debate because it really doesn't seem to be going anywhere fast, but I do think it's worth my adding that the Martin Earl advertisement is awkward but it's certainly not debilitating (unless it suits your argument to see it in this light).

And with regard to the solubility of the ink which Leeds then found they couldn't dissolve ("so it must have dried in the meantime" seems to be your conclusion), the casual observer would be thoroughly justified in asking how - if this were true and meaningfully so - the debate ever got a step further than the Leeds analysis of IIRC 1994?

[rjpalmer]

O, and if I may anticipate an objection, Keith, I too dismiss "debilitating" data, except that I don't view it as debilitating: Rod McNeil's ion migration conclusions. I feel I am correct in dismissing them, because Eastaugh and other scientists couldn't replicate his methods or explain how they COULD work, and McNeil himself later drastically altered his statement and evidently never used the technique again. The last time I heard, he was trying to develop ways of raising shellfish in Montana. Anyway, McNeil's incomprehensible conclusion directly runs counter to Baxendale's thoroughly understandable one--the ink quickly gave up color. When Leeds repeated the experiment a couple years later, the ink was now bonded with the paper. There is really only one rational explanation, isn't there?

[rjpalmer]

On April 22^nd 1993 Robbie reads in the Liverpool Daily Post that a book is going to be published naming James Maybrick as Jack the Ripper based on a diary that has been found. This gives Robbie an idea. Swiftly reading up about Jack the Ripper he notes the initials of the victims and gets hold of James Maybrick’s signature.

Please hold it right there, Keith. I don’t accept your premise. Why do you insist that Robbie Johnson had to hoof it down to Somerset House and examine Maybrick’s will?

Aren’t you placing a hurdle in your own path?

Since you won’t care to hear it from me, please refer to the following message from John Hacker, dated 13 January 2004, which, coincidentally, I was reading only yesterday.

John was not ill-informed. He belonged to a very select group of people who had seen the Turgoose and Wild reports in their entirety, unedited; he had also discussed the watch’s markings at length with scientists and metallurgists. Here is his opinion about a comparison between the signatures on the watch, and Maybrick’s genuine signature. (edited slightly to remove typographical errors):

“Caz,

First off, I have to say that your book has by FAR the best picture of the scratches I've seen published to date. Kudos!

However, I have to say that I don't see much of a similarity between the 2 signatures.

1) Maybrick’s real signature is written in a slanting fashion which doesn't happen on the watch.

2) The "M"s are completely different between the 2 sigs. The one on the watch is a wide and symmetrical, while Maybrick's M is very stylized.

3) The "y" on Maybrick's sig has a very short tail, no loop. The "y" on the watch has a long, looped tail.

4) The "c" on Maybrick's sig doesn't descend at the top, whereas the watch "c" has a dip at the end of the upper portion.

5) The "k" looks similar superficially, but if you look carefully at HOW they were written, the similarity can be seen as just that. Superficial. The "c" on Maybrick's sig flows into the "k", whereas on the watch, the line at the end of the "c" stops, and the "k" is added as a separate motion. (Or alternatively, a short left stroke was added to begin the "k".) There is also an odd stroke toward the upper left of the K on the watch that doesn't appear on Maybrick's sig. Frankly the only similarity I can see between the 2 at all is the loop to the right, and they are not all that similar in execution. Maybricks loop goes back to the upper left to create the downward stroke, and the watch loop changes direction from left to right to create the tail on the right.

In short I don't think there's any similarity between the two at all.”

It is your apparent belief, Keith, that Robbie Johnson would have had to have seen Maybrick’s signature to forge the watch. From the above, you will see that not everyone is convinced that that is a “fact.” I have not seen any reports of an accredited document examiner making a comparison between the two signatures. Is there one?

By the way, over the past few months, I have been reviewing the ‘case’ against M.J. Druitt, which caused me to re-read a very fascinating and well-researched book called The Ripper Legacy. I think you know it. The following paragraph on pg. 45 jumped out at me; it comes during Howell and Skinner’s ‘take down’ of Stephen Knight. The two authors are hard, blunt bastards, but I don’t think they are unfair.

“Stephen Knight had declared his intention to look objectively at Joseph Sickert’s recollections, though in fact supporting evidence was only being investigated insofar as it was of value to the plot, and debilitating research was being omitted altogether.”

Do you think the same objections could be leveled at Paul Feldman or Robert Smith? Or Ike for that matter?

Their methodology is to search high and low to find “supporting evidence” for the “plot” of the Diary being an old document genuinely written by James Maybrick, but any “debilitating” data that points toward Barrett or Johnson or Graham is either quickly brushed aside or made ridiculous through the creation of false scenarios that need not have taken place. For an example, see your own suggestion above. I don’t accept that anyone would have needed to hoof it down to Somerset House.
But rest easy. I have zero evidence that Robbie Johnson forged the watch scratches. I only have suspicion and circumstance. We are told that Albert bought the watch for his granddaughter as an investment, but by the story’s end Robbie Johnson has somehow managed to pocket 15,000 sheets. And Feldman admits that Robbie had lied. If nothing else, it surely indicates Robbie must have been a master manipulator with a golden tongue to rob Daisy’s cradle in such a fashion. But then I, too, am a hard, blunt bastard.

If we are going to be trading questions, do you believe Albert Johnson’s story of having accidently noticed the scratches on the inside back cover while showing his watch at work? And in a location that just happened to have access to microscopes? How does this ‘jive’ with the account given by people who had seen the watch at the Brighton (?) Conference, who couldn’t even see the scratches when they were pointed out to them and handed a magnifying lens? (And these people evidently included Caz). Isn’t there something amiss with the unlikeliness of Albert’s story—the slight but pungent scent of a staged event?

As far as I can tell, you alone had the wisdom and discipline to make detailed notes of the investigation into the Maybrick diary. You hunted down ‘leads’ far and wide. In my opinion, you eventually uncovered enough data to answer Begg’s 3 questions: who, when, and why? You are rightfully the hero of this investigation, but, for whatever reason, you don’t’ accept the obvious conclusion that is discernable in the data that you, yourself, have compiled. The two ‘rocks’ of the modern hoax reality are Baxendale’s solubility test, showing the document was new, and Martin Earl’s advertisement, showing that one or more of the occupants of Goldie Street were behind it. Any ‘solution’ that disregards this “debilitating” data, to use the term Howells and Skinner used in another context, is doomed to failure.

[rjpalmer]

but how would Mike Barrett have figured out that one of the items on this list, and only one, had not previously appeared on the list published in any newspaper report, going right back to October 1888? Does Paul Harrison explain that the tin match box is very new to the public domain?

I'll have to check when I have the time, Caz, but I don't think you are accurate. I don't think it was "one" item, and only one item, that was missing from the press reports of Eddowes' belongings. I seem to remember that this is another error that has crept into the Diary mythology. I think there was something like a ball of twine and another item or two, also not mentioned, but I may get back to you on that.

The standard explanation is that the items mentioned in the press had been discovered by the police while Kate's body was in situ in Mitre Square, while the tin match box empty and twine, etc., had been concealed in her clothing and was not discovered until she was stripped at the mortuary. Which raises the question as to how on earth 'Maybrick' would have known of these items in the limited time he spent in the dark shadows of the square.

It is the retention of the clumsy grammar of the inventory list "tin match box empty" (what the hell, was Maybrick Scandinavian or something to write in such a fashion?) that gives the game away. Or at least does to us delusional 'modern hoax' theorists.

[caz]

P.S. One of two books that contained the inventory of Eddowes' belongings was Paul Harrison's "Jack the Ripper: The Mystery Solved" (1991). It can be found on page. 67. Remarkably, this is the SAME BOOK that Barrett alludes to in his research notes (!). I think it is another sign that Barrett was rather unsophisticated as a hoaxer. He didn't know enough to realize that alluding to this item would point to a modern forgery, nor did he evidently realize that it could only be found in two books...one of which he foolishly admits to owning while "researching" (cough, cough--damn covid) the diary.

I haven't read Paul Harrison's book, R.J. But I'm not sure what point you are making.

I'll take your word for it that the inventory on page 67 includes the empty tin match box, as did one of Martin Fido's ripper books IIRC, but how would Mike Barrett have figured out that one of the items on this list, and only one, had not previously appeared on the list published in any newspaper report, going right back to October 1888? Does Paul Harrison explain that the tin match box is very new to the public domain?

Sir Jim - sorry - Mike Barrett, makes a pretty big deal in the diary of leaving Abberline 'a very good clue', singular, at the Eddowes crime scene. 'Nothing is mentioned, of this I know sure', he repeats. It doesn't have to be the tin match box of course, but Mike must have had something in mind, and everything he does mention is on the complete list. So it was one hell of a lucky coincidence to come up with a 'clue' at that point, which 'Sir Jim' knows he left at the scene, but is mysteriously missing from the list published in the newspapers. Certainly something else for Mike to gloat about when Feldman made a big deal about it. So why didn't Mike rub his nose in it, and tell him how he simply made it up, not knowing anything about any missing item?

I trust you have read all my recent posts through carefully, and are not making the most of yet more distractions. I will try and catch up with your latest responses when I return tomorrow. Patience.

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

There is an extraordinary character witness for Robbie Johnson on pg. 259 of Ripper Diary.

His name is Charlie Pulford.

“[Pulford] also claims that, had [Robbie] been considering a forgery, Robbie would have asked Pulford to do the scratchings for him and says that, as the brothers were so close, it would have been unthinkable anyway for Robbie to have done such a thing behind Albert’s back.”

What in the blazes is this?

Imagine going before the magistrate with that argument:

“Your honor, sir, I know Mick couldn’t have robbed the bank, because if he had, he would have asked me to stand lookout!”

Only in Liverpool! It’s like a line out of a comedy routine...

A bit selective there, weren't you, R.J? Where's the rest of it?

We can't win, can we? If we'd left the above out of Ripper Diary, and only included the other references to Charlie Pulford, we'd have been accused of being selective with our material.

Yet you do it here, and your 'case' against Robbie becomes artificially stronger for it - that is, until yours truly catches you at it.

Naughty step! Go!

Love,

Mama Caz
X

[caz]

Thanks, but you might want to alert Linder, Brown, and Skinner to this fact, for on page 100 of Ripper Diary they write…

“accompanied by locally based researcher Carol Emmas and co-owner of the watch Robbie Johnson….”


In the beginning the watch was Albert’s.

Before the dust cleared it was only 25% Albert’s. Which leaves three other owner/suspects, two of whom I think we can safely eliminate from our enquiries.

At some point the watch must have been appraised at £60,000 (Robbie’s quarter share represents twenty-five percent of £60,000) which is a significantly larger figure than the $40,000 US offered by the Texas collector Robert E. Davis, which could suggest an alternative reason why his offer was rejected.

The pound was worth more to the dollar in 1995 than now, but, even without doing all the math, Davis must have low-balled the Johnsons with a counteroffer of less than 50% of the appraisal, if we assume that Robbie’s eventual £15,000 share was 25% of the original asking price. (Which also assumes that Feldman, if he was the buyer of Robbie’s share, paid the full price).

Ironically, in the end, Robbie made off with more money by the Johnsons NOT selling the watch to Davis; if the sale had taken place, his share only would have been £10,000. But Robbie cleared £15,000, despite no apparent investment and no original claim to anything.

Surely you must find these circumstances curious and worrying? But obviously we are of two different minds.

Anyway, someone might alert KS to Post #491, in case he wants to investigate it.

I don't begin to understand the ins and outs of Robbie's share of the watch or who bought it from him for £15,000. He died in August 1995, but several years later, when Ripper Diary [2003] was being written, our understanding was then that Albert, his wife Val, their daughter Tracy and their solicitor Richard Nicholas all owned shares in the watch. The share allegedly owned originally, and then sold by Robbie, is a bit of a mystery to me. But how many people had shares to begin with? 4? 5? More than 5? And did they all own an equal percentage, or equal numbers of shares? Do you know the answers, R.J? Because I certainly don't.

The watch was only ever worth what someone was prepared to pay for it, and it was never sold to anyone, so whoever bought Robbie's share would have been 'doing all the math', to work out how much to offer him, based on Robbie's percentage share of the watch at the time of purchase and what this was worth to the buyer.

In short, if the buyer thought Robbie's share was worth shelling out £15,000 for, or £150,000, that's what Robbie would have made for himself. I don't know what would have happened to the buyer's share if they since died, or even if they left paperwork proving their part ownership. But it seems, when Albert died, he left the watch to Tracy's daughter Daisy, as was his original intention when he bought it. I don't know if Daisy now owns it outright, or if Val, Tracy and Richard Nicholas - or anyone else - are still part owners.

As with all shares, they can go up or down in value. So whoever thought £15,000 was a price worth paying for Robbie's share could have woken up the next morning to find that everyone's shares, including their own, were now worth the divided up scrap value of the gold.

I remain confused how any of this proves a thing about when the scratches were made or by whom.

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

From my reading of Feldman, Robbie seems to have had a lot of extra time on his hands. I reckon Robbie “discovered” the scratches while he was visiting Albert’s house one afternoon. Discovered them while holding a corroded brass etching tool, if you get my drift.

He shows the markings to Albert.

Albert is intrigued, but also skeptical. He knows Robbie has a history of getting involved in dodgy schemes, so he takes the watch to the college in order to get a second opinion. Here he stages his own “discovery” of the scratches, to distance Robbie from the timepiece, knowing that his brother would fall under immediate suspicion if it was revealed that he had been the one who had first noticed the markings, because, alas, Robbie had been recently released from the penitentiary.

So now everyone believes it was Albert, and not Robbie, that first found the markings. In this scenario, the only falsehood Albert ever committed was not fully disclosing how and by whom the marking were first noticed--he was protecting his brother.

Meanwhile, Albert’s skepticism starts to wane after the tests by Turgoose and Wild, and he becomes a ‘true believer’…to a degree. But even now, he knows Robbie’s ways and can’t help but notice how keen Robbie is to sell the watch. During the negotiations with the Texan Robert E. Davis, all the old doubts resurface, and Albert pulls the plug. He doesn’t like the possibility of a fraud being perpetrated and refuses to sell. His reluctance reveals his doubts and fears. In brief, he has decided to keep the watch as a pleasant conversation piece. His professed belief in its authenticity over the ensuing years is just another way of saying that he believes his beloved younger brother didn’t try to scam him.

Which is an entirely human and forgivable belief.

That is how I see it.

Afternoon R.J,

Keith would like to know if the following would also be how you see it, or if you would see parts of the story differently:

On Tuesday July 14^th 1992, Albert Johnson buys an 18 carat gold watch from Stewart’s jewellers in Liskard. Three days later on July 17^th 1992, his younger brother, Robbie, is released from an open prison after serving eighteen months of a two year sentence for possession of cannabis. For the next nine months Robbie has a lot of extra time on his hands and during this period he is aware of the gold watch Albert has bought. Maybe he thinks about nothing else.

On April 22^nd 1993 Robbie reads in the Liverpool Daily Post that a book is going to be published naming James Maybrick as Jack the Ripper based on a diary that has been found. This gives Robbie an idea. Swiftly reading up about Jack the Ripper he notes the initials of the victims and gets hold of James Maybrick’s signature. Perhaps he also remembers the Yorkshire Ripper’s taped message sent to the police “I’m Jack”? So round Robbie goes one afternoon to Albert’s taking with him a corroded brass etching tool and asks Albert if he can have another look at the watch. Albert fetches it for him and Robbie goes into the loo with the watch. He comes out 10 minutes later and shows markings to Albert which he has just found inside the watch casing. Albert stares at them blankly. Robbie explains what the scratchings might relate to and Albert is intrigued but also sceptical. He knows Robbie has a history of getting involved in dodgy schemes. Perhaps he is slightly suspicious about Robbie coming round that afternoon but then he’s always dropping in as he’s got a lot of extra time on his hands since being released from prison. It’s curious though about him going into the loo with the watch. However they agree it would be a good idea for Albert to take the watch to the college for a second opinion but to distance Robbie from having anything to do with the watch. Albert loves his brother and wants to protect him. If they found out it was Robbie who had discovered the scratches then he would fall under immediate suspicion having been released from prison eight months ago on a drugs charge. Plus he has had a lot of extra time on his hands. Much better if Albert engineers a discussion at work on to the subject of Victorian watches:

“Hey Albert, what do you think about Liverpool’s chances next season?”

“Brilliant! They’ve got an 18 carat gold team rather like my Victorian watch.. I’ll bring it in tomorrow.”

True to his word, Albert brings in his watch and his mates pass it round to each other admiringly and give it back to Albert. It’s not going to plan. So Albert hands it to them again saying it goes like clockwork and the Victorians really knew about precision engineering. One of his mates takes the bait and opens up the back:

“Beautiful piece of engineering”.

He closes the case and hands it back to Albert.

“They really looked after their watches” says Albert desperately, “cleaned them through and through. You won’t find a speck of dust inside the inner casing. Go on, have another look. Hold it up to the light.”

Bored rigid by this watch, one of his mates looks and then sees faint scratch marks. Albert almost chokes on his doughnut and off they trot to take a closer look at the scratches through a microscope in the Technical College. A thought then occurs to Albert. What happens if they enlarge the scratches and they don’t mean anything to anyone? But luck is with Albert because one of his mates has read about James Maybrick being Jack the Ripper, although he mixes it up with Deeming.

And so it goes on. Albert and Robbie scurry round to obtain copies of the newspaper articles and recent publicity. They keep going back to the jewellers wanting to know everything about the watch’s history. And then right at the beginning of June 1993, Albert telephones Robert Smith telling him about the watch. Next day he writes to Robert and on June 4^th 1993, Robert receives a rough drawing of the inside of the watch showing the scratches.

On June 14^th 1993, Albert and Robbie Johnson take the watch to London for a meeting with Robert. The brothers agree to pay to have the scratches forensically examined. After two sets of tests Albert’s scepticism starts to wane and he becomes a ‘true believer’. But even now he knows Robbie’s ways and he can’t help thinking back to Robbie’s ten minutes in the loo with the watch. Also he...

[back to you, R.J, to tie it all up with a nice pink bow]

...can't help but notice how keen Robbie is to sell the watch. During the negotiations with the Texan Robert E. Davis, all the old doubts resurface, and Albert pulls the plug. He doesn't like the possibility of a fraud being perpetrated and refuses to sell. His reluctance reveals his doubts and fears. In brief, he has decided to keep the watch as a pleasant conversation piece. His professed belief in its authenticity over the ensuing years is just another way of saying that he believes his beloved younger brother didn't try to scam him.

Which is an entirely human and forgivable belief...

Now I'm back with the Barretts of Goldie Street...

To borrow from what Macnaghten said of Druitt, “I have but little doubt that Robbie’s own family suspected that he was the hoaxer.”

As did Barrett’s. We are told in one of the notes above that Barrett's own mom threw him out of the house after she had read Harrison’s book... And no one knows us and our naughty ways like dear own mum.

I wonder if Mike's mum knew him so well that she could believe he was naughty enough to think up the whole idea for the diary, and then set about creating it and getting it published as a best-seller? I mean, he'd done this sort of thing before, as a snotty-nosed kid, and she'd had to put him on the naughty step?

You don't think she may have thrown him out because he'd made a public tit of himself, centre stage of his latest collaboration with Shirley, as a drunk and a rotten liar, whose wife and daughter couldn't bear to live in the same house with him?

Love,

Caz
X

[Iconoclast]

So no, Mike’s reference to Crashaw on Sept 30 doesn't appear to be a feat of memory (as you suggested in your post) from an infamously poor speller. Mike appears to be reading the quote to Martine directly---though I suppose we could debate this thorny and unknowable question until the final bugle calls of Judgement Day fill the air. Neither of us knows for certain.

Quite correct, Roger. We agree for once. Neither you nor Caz can know for certain that Mike hadn't taken the book downstairs on 30/09/94 to a telephone booth in the library foyer (or wherever - perhaps the friendly staff let him use their 'phone?) and quoted from it with the words in front of him. Nor can either of you know for certain that - later that day - he didn't 'phone Shirley when he wasn't in the library anymore and therefore got confused about the source.

I would agree in principle that you might have expected Barrett to have started at Volume 1 and stopped at Volume 2 when he discovered the quotation so why on earth would he ever imagine that he got it from Volume 6 or - if he was making it all up - why he thought this question wouldn't come back to haunt him; but equally he might have started with Volume 6 (the Victorians, logically), and then moved on to Volume 1 and then 2 when he didn't find it in Volume 6 (or just to Volume 2 if Volume 1 was not on the shelf or someone had put it back to the right of Volume 2, etc.).

Trying to draw forensically-indefeasible conclusions from uncertain premises will give you a hernia, mate. I'm honestly worried for you.

[rjpalmer]

Hi Caz - Out of deference to you, I’m staying up late to respond to your latest post, so you can, without delay, dismiss me as an ill-informed and entrenched windbag and then move on to more fruitful lines of inquiry.

My answer to your question is simple. On 30 September 1994 Barrett called two different women to inform them that he knew a source for the ‘O Costly’ quote. One was Shirley Harrison, who was told that he had found the quote by "chance" but, alas, he didn’t bother to write down the reference, although he thinks it was in Volume 6.

Most likely within minutes, Barrett picks up the phone a second time and calls Martine Rooney, (or perhaps he called Martine first, but, either way, this was still 30 September 1994), only this time Barrett tells his listener that not only does he know the author of the quote, but he has the book in front of him. As far as the record shows, Mike said nothing to Martine about the Liverpool Library or any other library, but, as if in confirmation of his possession of the volume, he correctly informs her that the diarist has mistakenly misspelled "O COSTLY" as "Oh COSTLY."

So no, Mike’s reference to Crashaw on Sept 30 doesn't appear to be a feat of memory (as you suggested in your post) from an infamously poor speller. Mike appears to be reading the quote to Martine directly---though I suppose we could debate this thorny and unknowable question until the final bugle calls of Judgement Day fill the air. Neither of us knows for certain.

Next, we get the following commentary from Ripper Diary, p. 143: "Keith, a few weeks later, would interview Martine Rooney to clarify what had been asked. According to Rooney, Barrett told her that he was sitting with the book in front of him. She later realized he must have seen the real version because he knew that the Diary was wrong..."

It is not difficult to "reverse engineer" what Keith is trying to figure out by quizzing Martine: did Barrett already own Volume 2 on 30 September? Unfortunately, there is no clear answer, because a person can’t see what another person is holding while talking to them over the telephone. [But Jenny & Jim “Lizard King” Morrison seem to think Mike did own the book, and perhaps so, too, did Barrett's sister. A reference from Melvin Harris, dating to October 1994, describes a PLURALITY of people that could confirm Barrett's prior ownership of the Sphere volume, which I take to mean that Barrett had told Harris/Gray that his sister Lynne and could also confirm it].

To conclude:

Based on Keith's notes, you seemingly want to believe story #1--the one Mike told to Shirley. Barrett found the quote over a long and difficult week in the library. Or by chance—depending on which version of the story we wish to believe. I find this illogical and, frankly, absurd. No way did Barrett dig through nearly 1,000 meters of bookshelves to find a five-word phrase. He’s lying. Further, I still strongly suspect that Mike’s story evolved over a series of calls to Shirley, since it went from a “chance” discovery, to a week-long ordeal of superhuman endurance. His later statements to Shirley, as far as I am concerned, are attempts to “walk back” his rash decision to admit that he had owned the volume all along.

I, on the other hand, tend to believe Barrett's story #2, as told to Martine Rooney. I think the book was in Barrett's lap when he made the phone call, and thus he knew it was Vol. 2. He merely pretended he was in a muddle when talking to Shirley...that's classic Barrett. What better way to convince her that he had clawed through hundreds of volumes in the CLL than to act confused and name the wrong volume as if he had searched through many? Alas, "with all things Mike,” he has muddied the waters successfully. And, to be blunt, I simply cannot grasp why you place so much emphasis on Barrett mentioning Vol. 6. Even if I am wrong, couldn’t he have merely forgotten which volume he had used to crib the Crashaw quote? And later realized it was Vol 2 and not Vol 6 when he went to fetch the correct volume from Jenny?

You've reproduced several KS notes from this era to bolster the theory that Mike went to the library; you haven't reproduced any notes to/from Martine Rooney. They might be useful for those willing to explore the other perspective, but I am certainly in no position to ask you to devote any more time into this minutia, particularly since I am the only one responding to any of it. Best wishes, RP.

PS. I’ve put off reading Lord Orsam’s article on Robert Smith’s book until I had a chance to study that illustrious volume, but I did break down and skim some of it this afternoon. He refers to the ‘O Costly’ fiasco and has noticed the same thing that I have: the account of Mike’s remarkable discovery given by Harrison in 2003 materially differs from the account that you and Keith give in Ripper Diary and from what Smith states in his own book. Orsam quotes Harrison (p. 267 of the Diary of Jack the Ripper, emphasis added by Lord O):

'Without success we had hunted high and low in anthologies to find it. I asked Michael to look in the Liverpool library. He badgered the staff there for help and sure enough he rang me within a few days and told me, '"You will find it in the Sphere History of English Literature, Volume 2. It is by Richard Crashaw".'

This is important. Note that Shirley insists that she had given this specific task to Barrett and that he flawlessly came back a few days later with the correct ‘Volume 2’ citation. She says nothing about his original claim of ‘by chance’ or ‘Volume 6.’ This is not a criticism of Harrison, per se, who I think is a decent woman, but it strengthens my belief that she has misremembered this event, and the only time she TRULY sent Barrett to the library was to confirm the CORRECT citation for the Sphere volume, ie., after Mike admitted he had made no note of it. This happened during her second call from Barrett on October 3^rd , when she DID give Mike the task of going to the library, as confirmed by Keith’s note. This is what she is remembering in her 2003 book, which is why she no longer remembers ‘vol 6’ or ‘by chance.’ Unfortunately, based on this claim, Robert Smith, etc., are now stating as FACT that Barrett was given this task and that he was helped by a squadron of harried librarians or even unidentified college professors, as Feldman believed.