There is no deeper meaning. The common denominator is the Albert Bridge and the Albert Bridge Road. Most of the remains were found downstream...obviously thrown into the river. The rest follows. The part by the embankment was left high and dry by the tides. The section in Battersea Park (which Abby seems to be confusing with the other piece) was by the side of Albert Road just on the other side of a hedge. The bit in Chelsea (the former Shelley estate) was also by the side of the road on the other side of a hedge. 2 + 2 = 4. Because the Brits drive on the left side of the road, it is easy enough to realize the direction of travel. This was simply one quick dump by someone in a vehicle, getting rid of the remains as quickly as possible, undoubtedly in the dark. The idea that he was placing them deliberately here and there seems barmy to me. A little too theatrical for a botched operation case.
By the way, the Cremorne Gardens in Chelsea was one of the most notorious pick-ups spots for prostitutes in the Victorian era. Look at the map. It is just south of the area in question, on the Chelsea side of the river. There is even a Victorian pornographic novel from the 1880s titled Cremorne Gardens. Yes, I've read it (research purposes only). One of the Ripper suspects (Tumblety) mentions the Cremorne Gardens in a letter written in the 1870s. He makes it sound delightful, but it was, in reality, a raunchy pick-up spot by then, involving both male and female practitioners of the fleshy arts.
As a totally irrelevant aside, I walked around Chelsea in the mid 1990s, looking at the sights. Lots of history along that stretch. Various artists, wits, writers, the Rolling Stones, etc. connected to this small hood. Anyway, out of the blue a drunken Peter O'Toole pulled up in a sports car and asked me directions. I was a Yank with no idea where I was, but, being on a self-guided walking tour I knew exactly where he wanted to go (Chenye Walk) and gave him directions. A bit later I learned that Pete had an actress friend who lived on that street. He seemed like a nice bloke, but I was surprised to see him tipsy at 9 am on a Sunday morning. Probably a continuation of the previous night. No harm, no foul. He was pretty brilliant in Lawrence of Arabia, among others. This was before I was a Ripper enthusiast, and I curse myself now for not studying the landscape more closely.
But these days, as Elvis Costello once famously sang, I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea. Anyway, I reserve the right to be wrong. Go ahead with your own thinking, but I see this as a haphazard dump with the river the obvious target, but fear and pedestrians complicating matters.
By the way, the Cremorne Gardens in Chelsea was one of the most notorious pick-ups spots for prostitutes in the Victorian era. Look at the map. It is just south of the area in question, on the Chelsea side of the river. There is even a Victorian pornographic novel from the 1880s titled Cremorne Gardens. Yes, I've read it (research purposes only). One of the Ripper suspects (Tumblety) mentions the Cremorne Gardens in a letter written in the 1870s. He makes it sound delightful, but it was, in reality, a raunchy pick-up spot by then, involving both male and female practitioners of the fleshy arts.
As a totally irrelevant aside, I walked around Chelsea in the mid 1990s, looking at the sights. Lots of history along that stretch. Various artists, wits, writers, the Rolling Stones, etc. connected to this small hood. Anyway, out of the blue a drunken Peter O'Toole pulled up in a sports car and asked me directions. I was a Yank with no idea where I was, but, being on a self-guided walking tour I knew exactly where he wanted to go (Chenye Walk) and gave him directions. A bit later I learned that Pete had an actress friend who lived on that street. He seemed like a nice bloke, but I was surprised to see him tipsy at 9 am on a Sunday morning. Probably a continuation of the previous night. No harm, no foul. He was pretty brilliant in Lawrence of Arabia, among others. This was before I was a Ripper enthusiast, and I curse myself now for not studying the landscape more closely.
But these days, as Elvis Costello once famously sang, I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea. Anyway, I reserve the right to be wrong. Go ahead with your own thinking, but I see this as a haphazard dump with the river the obvious target, but fear and pedestrians complicating matters.
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