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The two men shared a train carriage. The older man was reading a broadsheet with great interest and shaking his head.
" What do you make of this Ripper person?. "
He said, lowering the paper and staring at the other man.
" Your a man with your experience with the prostitute classes, "
he continued,
" What the word that springs to mind when you think about theses women ?."
The younger mans eyes opened.
" Sex ."
He said.
The old mans eyes hardened.
" The politics of gender and identity. "
The young man added,
" The first thing that sprang to mind was the killers gender. The killer is certainly a man. "
The old man smiled and said.
" Nobody claims different. "
The young man continued talking.
" Besides the obvious things. You can tell quite a bit about a murderer by his choice of victim and how he uses them. "
" Yes,the killer is one of these street ruffians. Obviously, "
The old man interjected.
" Is it ?,"
replied the young man, and his dark eyes grew a little brighter.
" Well, you need a youth to roam the streets all night. "
" A man can stay active a long time, if he avoids the port and cigars, and walks instead of hailing a cab."
The young man smiled, and the old man went on.
" And only local knowledge of the squalid rat maze allows him to avoid the police time and again ."
The young lit a cigarette and inhaled.
" Why Mr Pryatt, what an insightful remark. "
The old man looked pleased and a little confused. The young man was silent for a while, and then he spoke once more.
" Do you like Covent Garden Mr Pryatt ?."
" Why, yes,"
the old man replied.
" Mrs Pryatt and i visit often ."
" So, if you were transported there this moment, then you could orientate successfully? ."
" Why, off course. "
" But you do not live in Covent Garden or anywhere near it ?."
" Alright!."
The old man laughed, lighting a cigarette of his own.
" But i still say he's a local villain. "
The young man stroked his moustache.
" He is no genius, certainly. "
He mused.
" He probably has a criminal or mental history. A man does not commit apparently motiveless crime of this magnitude without any precedent.
Assault, threatening behavior, or something eccentric like arson or cruelty to beasts ."
The old man listened to this with mild interest, and then some unconnected thought entered his mind and his attention waned. He picked up the paper
and turned to the front page.
" Its the eighth"
he groaned.
" Its old Cuthbert's anniversary dinner. I suppose I'll have to go."
The young man laughed.
" Well, its better than a shift at the Greater London. "
The carriage shuddered as the engine slowed. The busy platform at Euston St Station appeared beyond the wet glass of the window.
" What time do you finish?."
Said the old man.
" You can make to the club for a few drinks, surely?."
The young man straightened his black hat and picked up his little Scotch cloth bag from the seat.
" It will be gone midnight, i,m afraid ."
He said.
The old man pulled on his raincoat and tossed his half smoked cigarette out into the rain.
" What do you make of this Ripper person?. "
He said, lowering the paper and staring at the other man.
" Your a man with your experience with the prostitute classes, "
he continued,
" What the word that springs to mind when you think about theses women ?."
The younger mans eyes opened.
" Sex ."
He said.
The old mans eyes hardened.
" The politics of gender and identity. "
The young man added,
" The first thing that sprang to mind was the killers gender. The killer is certainly a man. "
The old man smiled and said.
" Nobody claims different. "
The young man continued talking.
" Besides the obvious things. You can tell quite a bit about a murderer by his choice of victim and how he uses them. "
" Yes,the killer is one of these street ruffians. Obviously, "
The old man interjected.
" Is it ?,"
replied the young man, and his dark eyes grew a little brighter.
" Well, you need a youth to roam the streets all night. "
" A man can stay active a long time, if he avoids the port and cigars, and walks instead of hailing a cab."
The young man smiled, and the old man went on.
" And only local knowledge of the squalid rat maze allows him to avoid the police time and again ."
The young lit a cigarette and inhaled.
" Why Mr Pryatt, what an insightful remark. "
The old man looked pleased and a little confused. The young man was silent for a while, and then he spoke once more.
" Do you like Covent Garden Mr Pryatt ?."
" Why, yes,"
the old man replied.
" Mrs Pryatt and i visit often ."
" So, if you were transported there this moment, then you could orientate successfully? ."
" Why, off course. "
" But you do not live in Covent Garden or anywhere near it ?."
" Alright!."
The old man laughed, lighting a cigarette of his own.
" But i still say he's a local villain. "
The young man stroked his moustache.
" He is no genius, certainly. "
He mused.
" He probably has a criminal or mental history. A man does not commit apparently motiveless crime of this magnitude without any precedent.
Assault, threatening behavior, or something eccentric like arson or cruelty to beasts ."
The old man listened to this with mild interest, and then some unconnected thought entered his mind and his attention waned. He picked up the paper
and turned to the front page.
" Its the eighth"
he groaned.
" Its old Cuthbert's anniversary dinner. I suppose I'll have to go."
The young man laughed.
" Well, its better than a shift at the Greater London. "
The carriage shuddered as the engine slowed. The busy platform at Euston St Station appeared beyond the wet glass of the window.
" What time do you finish?."
Said the old man.
" You can make to the club for a few drinks, surely?."
The young man straightened his black hat and picked up his little Scotch cloth bag from the seat.
" It will be gone midnight, i,m afraid ."
He said.
The old man pulled on his raincoat and tossed his half smoked cigarette out into the rain.
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