Kelly's Killer

[sleekviper]

Hello Lynn,
Thanks for that. Life is so-so, hope that it is going well with you.

[lynn cates]

delusions

Hello Caroline. Rubbish. If not for your inspiring song, mine had lain dormant (maybe that would have been preferable? heh-heh).

At any rate, my lad did not begin to lose it until a bit later than Smith but before Tabram.

I don't think he ever intended to kill anyone. I think his delusions were to blame.

Cheers.
LC

[caz]

Taking her heart is really odd though isn't it, considering nothing else was taken away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not defending the 'familial' argument, but you cannot say it is not justified to a degree.
Why take the heart, to implicate someone else?

Regards, Jon S.

Hi Jon,

You may have hit the nail on the head there. Everyone considers the taking of the heart to be potentially of more major significance than any other organ. So it could well have been taken by a complete stranger to implicate someone much closer to home. It would have been rather foolish of Barnett, or anyone known to have been involved with Kelly, to have invited suspicion in this way. It was bad enough for Barnett that she was killed at all, let alone in the bed he had recently vacated, without her heart being quite literally stolen away. More foolish still would have been the police if they had not considered the personal possibilities and grilled Barnett accordingly. But we know they did and they were satisfied.

The killer could have been bored with wombs and kidney and reached for a heart this time because he could. He wasn't forced to do his thing in a dark corner with a fully clothed woman. This one had obliged by stripping off to a skimpy chemise indoors, where he had more light to see and feel and select what he wanted and place it where he wanted. He may also have wanted to show the authorities that they were wrong - again - if they supposed he was after specific organs. Kelly was a younger, healthier specimen, and he managed to remove many organs, only to place them by her body.

What I would find odd is anyone doing all this in an overly elaborate copycat attempt and then not bothering to wind up the charm by taking away the womb or a kidney.

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

Hello Caroline. The devil made me do it. Please forgive the poor taste, but it explains my point.

In Spitalfields, where I was born
There was a hooker dwellin’,
The punters they,
Cried well-a-day,
Her name was Polly Nichols.

All in the merry summer time,
Though much rain it was pourin’,
From a butcher’s home,
Jake ‘gan to roam,
And carried his knives with him.

He did for one, then did for two,
The other’s name was Annie.
With bad luck fraught,
He soon was caught,
And there it might have ended.

But others were, within the town,
And they had scores to settle,
So with poor Kate,
He did not wait,
But made her look just like 'em. (Well, almost.)

Cheers.
LC

Excellent Lynn. Much better than my dry bones.

But then, was your Jake acting in total ignorance of the Smith and Tabram murders, or was he excited by the details and took his knives out on the streets to get some for himself? You see, several killers need several different explanations (from the purely coincidental to connection by design), while one killer could fit all - and I do mean all.

Love,

Caz
X

[caz]

Hello Caroline.

"I only recently appreciated just how close the murders of Emma Smith and Martha Tabram were - despite these two ladies having far less connective tissue than subsequent victims."

Completely agree. So, what is the verdict? Are they by the same hand? If so, perhaps all the WCM were perpetrated by the same gang that was purported to have killed Smith.

Hi Lynn,

I forgot that these two were also killed on Bank Holidays, which may or may not be significant.

The thing is, to an American, the whole of England is tiny, so although Colin Roberts gets it, I'm wondering if his murder statistics have trouble sinking in with some of you good people across the pond. Eleven adult women murdered by knife in the whole of England in 1887, eleven again in 1889, but seventeen in 1888. That means eleven in 1888 plus the six Whitechapel victims between August and November, all killed within gentle strolling distance.

Emma Smith wasn't killed with a knife so doesn't appear in these figures, but it probably takes about twenty seconds to walk from where she claimed she was attacked to where Tabram was murdered. I have had to look at this again to ask myself what it means. Was Jack one of the gang who attacked Smith that April Bank Holiday evening, tanked up with booze perhaps? Was he the one who went the extra mile and assaulted her in that horrific fashion, getting off on it to the extent that he sought more violent thrills with another unfortunate on the August Bank Holiday?

Or did poor Emma Smith tell a white lie about an unprovoked attack by three gang members to preserve a bit of dignity? Was it nearer the truth that she went willingly with the man who did this awful thing to her, and she could not bear the thought of people saying she had "asked for it" (as they still say today about certain rape victims)? We know these women could be less than truthful about their lives, to make themselves appear more respectable, or to gain sympathy or financial assistance, and who today could blame them?

I think the least likely explanation is that a gang was responsible for any of the later unfortunate murders, but it is also odd that no similar gang attacks seem to have been reported by a victim or observed by witnesses. Was it so shocking that the gang dispersed and mended its ways?

Love,

Caz
X

[lynn cates]

good one

Hello Joe. Good to see you around. Hope you are well.

Good one.

Cheers.
LC

[Wickerman]

That's true, Robert.
Hutchinson is also an excellent example of this relativity.
In his geography, Romford is closer to the Victoria Home than Commercial Street. Going back and forth to Romford was nothing to Hutch, while it took him no less than 3 days to reach the police station.

There are those who might say, it took three days to wash the blood out of his clothes...

[sleekviper]

Awe Lynn, you didn't use Charlie Daniels??
The devil went down to London he was lookin' for a lass to kill,
He was in a bind, fallen way behind, and was lookin' to make a deal.
The lass said my names Kelly and I'll make a bet with you,
Bet a pint of ale,you're not from hell,and meet in my room about 2.

[DVV]

Taking her heart is really odd though isn't it, considering nothing else was taken away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not defending the 'familial' argument, but you cannot say it is not justified to a degree.
Regards, Jon S.

Indeed, Jon. Add to this the fact that she was murdered indoors and the last victim of the series, and much younger than the others.
So yes, it is certainly justified to a degree, to say the least.

[Wickerman]

But I don't see why it's probable that he knew Kelly personally, or had been pissed off with her personally, to do what he did to her - especially if he had most probably killed Chapman and/or Eddowes.

Taking her heart is really odd though isn't it, considering nothing else was taken away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not defending the 'familial' argument, but you cannot say it is not justified to a degree.
Why take the heart, to implicate someone else?

Regards, Jon S.

[DVV]

That's true, Robert.
Hutchinson is also an excellent example of this relativity.
In his geography, Romford is closer to the Victoria Home than Commercial Street. Going back and forth to Romford was nothing to Hutch, while it took him no less than 3 days to reach the police station.

[Robert]

I aways find that psychological distance depends on interest or familiarity. If it's a route I know well, with markers such as familiar shops etc, then I seem to walk from A to B very quickly. But if I walk the same distance and the roads are dreary, or I'm not sure how far I must walk to reach my detination, then the walk seems to drag on for ever.

[DVV]

"Le ciel est bleu
La mer est verte
Laisse un peu
La fenêtre ouverte..."

[lynn cates]

a promise is a promise

Hello Caroline. The devil made me do it. Please forgive the poor taste, but it explains my point.

In Spitalfields, where I was born
There was a hooker dwellin’,
The punters they,
Cried well-a-day,
Her name was Polly Nichols.

All in the merry summer time,
Though much rain it was pourin’,
From a butcher’s home,
Jake ‘gan to roam,
And carried his knives with him.

He did for one, then did for two,
The other’s name was Annie.
With bad luck fraught,
He soon was caught,
And there it might have ended.

But others were, within the town,
And they had scores to settle,
So with poor Kate,
He did not wait,
But made her look just like 'em. (Well, almost.)

Cheers.
LC

[DVV]

Good one, Chris. Certainly a maniac of a most virulent type, although he looks harmless like the Good Mike.