Just a quickie this time, you’ll be relieved to know!
Being found indoors undressed with no client rendezvous doesnt make Mary similar in that respect at all.
You really are determined to keep testing the depth of the water with both feet, aren’t you? Now where have I seen that phrase recently?

You argued that Blotchy could have been some grubby old fella bewitched by the thought of spending time in the room of a pretty, sexy young lady who sings for her supper. And that Mary was lonely and only too willing to oblige.
Now do you seriously imagine that if you are correct this time (and I’m not disputing that you could be), the scenario you describe could not constitute a classic client rendezvous? How did this odd couple meet in the first place? On the street? Down the pub? What did they have in common, besides being seen entering the crime scene together and not being seen leaving it again?
Isn’t it a whole lot more believable, if you want to make Blotchy any more than a total stranger (as Joe Barnett was the day he first met Mary), that he knew her from evenings in the pub and she only took this grubby old fella home with her because he fed and watered her and gave her the ‘incentive’ she would have needed to let him into what was, essentially, her bedroom?
I just don’t get your refusal to see a quarter inch further here and at least allow for the remote (tongue-in-cheek alert) possibility that a stunner like Mary (tongue-in-cheek alert) would not have entertained this grubby old fella in her bedroom out of the pure goodness of her heart, but would have expected him to pay for the privilege, whether he was a boozing acquaintance, prospective new meal ticket or her own long lost uncle.
I can only think it’s because it would do horrible things to your theory that Mary was ‘different’ and therefore her killer was too, if you had to admit that ‘prostitute with own bed’ was her best personal asset now Joe had slung his hook and the ripper’s best personal opportunity to date.
It really is quite bizarre to think of Mary still giving fourpenny knee-tremblers in stinking alleyways at the height of the ripper scare, when she could have earned more on that bed, and even more bizarre to think of the ripper hearing about his latest murder and kicking himself because some other bugger had all the fun.
Love,
Caz
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