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This is a response to the story posted by Lechmere on the 'Did Hutchinson get the night wrong?' thread. To demonstrate how things could have been different, and purely for the sake of argument, I have portrayed Hutchinson as an organised, narcissistic killer.
Please don't come after me with big sticks. This is just for jolly!
Hutchinson lived in the Victoria Home for several years while working casually as a groom. In mid 1887 he noticed Mary Kelly in the neighbourhood. She stood out as she regularly paraded about the place, making the most of her good looks. Hutchinson never approached her. There would be time for that later.
On 7th November he wandered around Spitalfields and saw Mary Kelly a few times and followed her a bit. He even peered through her window hoping to get an eyeful. He walked right passed her and was sure she had looked at him. Hutchinson pulled his wideawake down low. It wouldn’t do to be recognised…
On 8th November Hutchinson went to Romford on the train. He planned to stay for the day so as to be out of the way. It was a rainy, windy and cold night, but you couldn’t be too careful. He knew well enough that there would be people about on Dorset Street, even in the dead of night. Men and women going late back to the lodging houses; whores plying their trade. Hutchinson liked to get things right. It had to be right. He had waited for this night, for the time to be right. Nothing would stop him now….
Next morning he got up early. He was skint and needed his next nights doss money. Kelly hadn’t had much on her after all. He knew the Lord Mayor’s Show was on. Oh yes, he knew. He had waited for this day, of all days. Now finally, he would be truly known. After today, the world would know of his work. By 10 am the crowds were already gathering for the show, but he didn’t mind for once. Not today. Today, he was laughing. He knew that soon enough, everybody would be looking at him, the Lord Mayor’s Show all but forgotten. Leisurely, he made his way down to Dorset Street, where crowds of another kind were already gathering - his crowds. Just another face amongst many, Hutchinson revelled in the spectacle.
Hutchinson drank heavily for the next day, enjoying his own celebration. He read the papers at the Victoria avidly for news. He was delighted to discover that one of the witnesses, Sarah Lewis, had seen him waiting outside Crossinghams. So much the better, he thought. Hutchinson waited. He was surprised however, when on the Sunday, the inquest was suddenly brought to a close. It was over much faster than he had thought. The others had taken much longer. He was a bit disappointed. But still, why wait?
Hutchinson went into the police station and gave them a story that he knew they’d fall for. He knew that nobody had seen him on the 8th - he’d made sure of that. And the woman Lewis confirmed his presence there - so of course they believed his story about the rich Jew. People, thought Hutchinson, were so stupid. And the police were particularly useless. They would never catch him. He knew it now.
It went better than Hutchinson could have hoped. The police wanted him to look for the Jew! Even better, he got to see her body - not that there was much of it to see…
Of course he knew that sooner or later, even the useless police would realise that he didn’t know Kelly - all they really had to do was ask around to find that out - but Hutchinson wasn’t overly concerned. He knew how many other people had come out with sightings of ‘suspicious men’ seen with Kelly. Channces were good, he thought, that he’d just be dismissed as another time-waster.
Hutchinson vowed to change his ways. Fun as it had been, he had grown tired of the same old streets. Anyway, how could he be any more notorious now? What he needed was a new challenge. America perhaps…
Please don't come after me with big sticks. This is just for jolly!
Hutchinson lived in the Victoria Home for several years while working casually as a groom. In mid 1887 he noticed Mary Kelly in the neighbourhood. She stood out as she regularly paraded about the place, making the most of her good looks. Hutchinson never approached her. There would be time for that later.
On 7th November he wandered around Spitalfields and saw Mary Kelly a few times and followed her a bit. He even peered through her window hoping to get an eyeful. He walked right passed her and was sure she had looked at him. Hutchinson pulled his wideawake down low. It wouldn’t do to be recognised…
On 8th November Hutchinson went to Romford on the train. He planned to stay for the day so as to be out of the way. It was a rainy, windy and cold night, but you couldn’t be too careful. He knew well enough that there would be people about on Dorset Street, even in the dead of night. Men and women going late back to the lodging houses; whores plying their trade. Hutchinson liked to get things right. It had to be right. He had waited for this night, for the time to be right. Nothing would stop him now….
Next morning he got up early. He was skint and needed his next nights doss money. Kelly hadn’t had much on her after all. He knew the Lord Mayor’s Show was on. Oh yes, he knew. He had waited for this day, of all days. Now finally, he would be truly known. After today, the world would know of his work. By 10 am the crowds were already gathering for the show, but he didn’t mind for once. Not today. Today, he was laughing. He knew that soon enough, everybody would be looking at him, the Lord Mayor’s Show all but forgotten. Leisurely, he made his way down to Dorset Street, where crowds of another kind were already gathering - his crowds. Just another face amongst many, Hutchinson revelled in the spectacle.
Hutchinson drank heavily for the next day, enjoying his own celebration. He read the papers at the Victoria avidly for news. He was delighted to discover that one of the witnesses, Sarah Lewis, had seen him waiting outside Crossinghams. So much the better, he thought. Hutchinson waited. He was surprised however, when on the Sunday, the inquest was suddenly brought to a close. It was over much faster than he had thought. The others had taken much longer. He was a bit disappointed. But still, why wait?
Hutchinson went into the police station and gave them a story that he knew they’d fall for. He knew that nobody had seen him on the 8th - he’d made sure of that. And the woman Lewis confirmed his presence there - so of course they believed his story about the rich Jew. People, thought Hutchinson, were so stupid. And the police were particularly useless. They would never catch him. He knew it now.
It went better than Hutchinson could have hoped. The police wanted him to look for the Jew! Even better, he got to see her body - not that there was much of it to see…
Of course he knew that sooner or later, even the useless police would realise that he didn’t know Kelly - all they really had to do was ask around to find that out - but Hutchinson wasn’t overly concerned. He knew how many other people had come out with sightings of ‘suspicious men’ seen with Kelly. Channces were good, he thought, that he’d just be dismissed as another time-waster.
Hutchinson vowed to change his ways. Fun as it had been, he had grown tired of the same old streets. Anyway, how could he be any more notorious now? What he needed was a new challenge. America perhaps…
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