A Letting of Blood

By Alf Smith

SYNOPSIS

A Letting of Blood

The story is a grim one; about death by murder and mutilation, in the most callous and wanton circumstances of cruelty.  This account has been written to placate my mind for; although it has been told and retold many times by countless sources, the writers have always gotten it wrong, and this misinformation has annoyed me to such a degree that I now set down this collection of words to correct the failure and misrepresentation of past publications that have contained nothing but a fabrication of truth and a distortion of facts. 

The revelation that I have chronicled involves a character of history who has evolved throughout time into somewhat of a legendary status.  His name is the epitome of the worst kind of bogeyman; which is a common allusion to a fictitious being that is used by adults to frighten children.  However, this is not a story about some category of mythical creature, but a retelling of a collection of evil murders perpetrated upon women in the times of Queen Victoria.  The murderer truly existed in this period and his actual name has never been revealed, due to the fact that he was never captured.  His deeds, however, will forever be preserved in history and, although he has now ceased to exist through the expenditure and passage of time; as must we all; he will always be remembered by the alias by which he was anointed; that nickname being – Jack the Ripper.

I have been referring to the murderer in the singular manner of speech, as this mode represents the most common principal and underlying fault that has been accepted and used by previous correspondents, who have written about the case studies.  In accepting, quite erroneously, that the inhuman monster of the murders was a singular person, they were utterly mistaken; for it was not one singular individual who committed these atrocities, but instead, the murders were committed by a combination of three people. 

I have decided against writing down the bare facts in just fragmented piecemeal, as this would be exceedingly dry and extremely short for the reader.  Instead, I have consigned the story into a narrative presentation, so as to enhance the flavour of the events that transpired and, in doing so, hope that appreciation can be felt of the true horror that befell this collection of women who were consigned to death by the razor-sharp blades that were held in the hands of their heartless, merciless and cold-blooded killers.

These murders occurred in a relatively short space of time and, once they had ceased, they were never recontinued.  I have outlined the reason surrounding the stoppage of these events and how this came to be.  I have also furnished details of what manner of future lay in wait for these killers, following their diabolical deeds.

I apologise for the graphic detail that is outlined within these pages but hope that you can gauge some form of appreciation of how exceptionally evil these creatures of death truly were. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alf Smith
• Release date: Jan 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393250630

Book preview

SYNOPSIS

A Letting of Blood

The story is a grim one; about death by murder and mutilation, in the most callous and wanton circumstances of cruelty.  This account has been written to placate my mind for; although it has been told and retold many times by countless sources, the writers have always gotten it wrong, and this misinformation has annoyed me to such a degree that I now set down this collection of words to correct the failure and misrepresentation of past publications that have contained nothing but a fabrication of truth and a distortion of facts. 

The revelation that I have chronicled involves a character of history who has evolved throughout time into somewhat of a legendary status.  His name is the epitome of the worst kind of bogeyman; which is a common allusion to a fictitious being that is used by adults to frighten children.  However, this is not a story about some category of mythical creature, but a retelling of a collection of evil murders perpetrated upon women in the times of Queen Victoria.  The murderer truly existed in this period and his actual name has never been revealed, due to the fact that he was never captured.  His deeds, however, will forever be preserved in history and, although he has now ceased to exist through the expenditure and passage of time; as must we all; he will always be remembered by the alias by which he was anointed; that nickname being – Jack the Ripper.

I have been referring to the murderer in the singular manner of speech, as this mode represents the most common principal and underlying fault that has been accepted and used by previous correspondents, who have written about the case studies.  In accepting, quite erroneously, that the inhuman monster of the murders was a singular person, they were utterly mistaken; for it was not one singular individual who committed these atrocities, but instead, the murders were committed by a combination of three people. 

I have decided against writing down the bare facts in just fragmented piecemeal, as this would be exceedingly dry and extremely short for the reader.  Instead, I have consigned the story into a narrative presentation, so as to enhance the flavour of the events that transpired and, in doing so, hope that appreciation can be felt of the true horror that befell this collection of women who were consigned to death by the razor-sharp blades that were held in the hands of their heartless, merciless and cold-blooded killers.

These murders occurred in a relatively short space of time and, once they had ceased, they were never recontinued.  I have outlined the reason surrounding the stoppage of these events and how this came to be.  I have also furnished details of what manner of future lay in wait for these killers, following their diabolical deeds.

I apologise for the graphic detail that is outlined within these pages but hope that you can gauge some form of appreciation of how exceptionally evil these creatures of death truly were. 

...................................

Previous book by Alf Smith

Jack Benson:  The Life of a Victorian Fellow

For Louanne 

-  She takes all the blame – yet again!

A Letting of Blood

Book 1

A Letting of Blood

Book 1

Chapter One: 

An Introduction of Sorts

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His name was Alec Jarvis.  You’ve probably never heard of him, for he lived ‘back-in-the-day’ within the Victorian epoch and he is now long gone.  He was an innocuous looking man to view; with a slight, spindly body that stood just a touch over five feet four inches tall.  His pock-marked face, derived from an illness contracted in the early years of his upbringing in the filthy city of Glasgow, reflected signs of wear and was encased in a countenance that rarely smiled.  The one conspicuous thing that could be noticed about him was that he incessantly combed his right hand through his thickly-oiled hair.  The effect of this habitual action was that it created a constantly-glazed palm, which was immediately obvious if you had the misfortune to be offered it in greeting.  The feeling was akin to shaking the hand of a corpse, for his grip was clammy, limp and insubstantial.

Alec Jarvis’s profession was that of an apothecary.  In today’s terms, we would call him a chemist.  During the period of his tenure on earth, he inherited this working title through being born into a family business of apothecaries and serving an apprenticeship for his father who had, in turn, acquired his profession in the same manner from Alec’s grandfather.  Apothecaries utilised their own measurement system, according to their individual dictates, when providing for the weighing of quantities of medicinal potions.  In those days, there was no protective screening by governing authorities to protect the general public.  The medical system therefore depended upon these men (no women were allowed to practice) to be knowledgeable in their medicinal administrations and, in many instances, some strange substances indeed were used in abandon.

Many recipes that were expended included mixtures of herbs, minerals, and shards of animal meat, fats, and skin.  These concoctions were either subsequently formed and ingested in tablet form or ground into paste to be applied in external utilisation upon the body.  One other popular application was in the engaging therapy of aromatherapy so as to attempt an improvement of psychological or physical well-being.  Although many of the ingredients, such as catnip, mint, garlic and fennel, are well known in today’s world, other components that were applied in those days were urine, earwax, saliva, and faecal matter, to name but a few unmentionables.  Trial and error were the name of the day as, initially, little was really known about how the chemistry of certain treatments actually worked.  Apothecaries believed that if a potion worked on one individual, then it should certainly work on any other client and so they administered it appropriately.  They stored the outcome of the effects of their dispensed remedies into their mind’s memory bank and suitably repeated them on an every-day basis, in each instance they were approached for assistance from the general public for a cure for ailment problems.

Apothecaries also dispensed a variety of poisons as medicines and, as is still the case, these medicines could be either beneficial or harmful, if inappropriately dispensed or used.  One of these medicines was a substance known as laudanum.  This drug was a distillation of opium and was reddish-brown to view, while being extremely bitter in taste.  In those days, laudanum was widely used in the treatment of many conditions, particularly as a pain medication or cough suppressant.  It could also be purchased without a prescription and was extremely strong, as it contained all of the opium alkaloids.  It was the favourite medicament of Alec Jarvis, both for prescribing to the general public and also for the usage of private consumption.

Alec Jarvis was a person who had thought would never marry.  This was accountable for a number of rationales: the main reason being that no woman had ever been even remotely attracted to his physical looks.  The man himself was deeply conscious of this failing and, try though he may, he could not induce a person of the opposite sex to spend time with him in an intimate setting.  He therefore took to appointing the facilities of prostitutes, who would bill and coo accordingly, and then receive payment for their services.  These ladies performed their work adequately and to a satisfactory standard but Mr Jarvis was never really fulfilled, as he craved for something far more intimate and longer-lasting than purely physical release.  He longed for love from another human being. 

Each day, whilst working, his mind kept ticking over with his job in hand but, every time that he vainly tried to converse with his female customers in a flirtatious manner, he was constantly rebuked and, with every rebuttal of his charms, another notch of inward frustration was added to the fury that was mounting inside his being.  At night, whilst on his own, he would partake a little of his favoured laudanum and contemplate fantasies of imagined and hallucinatory dreams.  These narcotically-induced powers of invention would subsequently transport him temporarily to a place that was pleasant upon his mind and where each and every whim that he desired was obeyed by his illusory and erroneous female companion.  However, upon awakening from his reverie, reality would return once again to his mind and the bitter resentment of the actuality of his life would twist his concepts one spiral tighter.  This unnerving scenario continued to progress as time advanced until, finally, the mind of Mr Jarvis decided that enough was enough.  Incited by his continuous erotic fantasies, which were further enhanced by his stimulated addiction, he therefore decided that the time was now ripe to enact the strategy of a plan that he had conceived, whereby his dreams would be transported into reality. 

Chapter Two: 

The Creature’s Hobby

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The city in which Alec resided was a dirty town that was filled with factories that ushered thick, dense smoke from the funnels of their stations into the atmosphere.  This smouldering pollution, in turn, filled the lungs of resident dwellers to serve as a constant reminder of the depressive gloom that abounded in the lives of its workers.  As it corrupted the air with its constant presence, dark avenues lay in abundance around the area, as lamplights failed to reflect enough light to cast little more than a shadow on the footprints that were trod by inhabitants.  It was this background of murky and shadowy surroundings that Mr Jarvis intended to fully utilise in order to exercise and aid his scheme.

Mr Jarvis had no friends to spend time with, although he had a passionate diversionary interest in the creation of taxidermy, which is the art of preserving (usually) animals, birds, insects and such-like creatures.  Over the years; following a vast amount of study and practice, Mr Jarvis had grown to become an accomplished master of this technique and, truth be told, supplemented his income by the supply of his ingenious creations of dead animals to clients who wished to have their loving pet remain with them after death had claimed them. 

Taxidermy, for those who are unfamiliar with the term, is the method of preserving an animal’s body via stuffing and mounting the remains, whilst portraying the body in a lifelike state.  The actual word of taxidermy is derived, as many words are, from the Greek language; in that, ‘taxis’ means ‘to move’ and ‘derma’ means ‘skin’.  Taken together, the word translates as ‘arrangement of skin’.  The preservation of animal skins was not a new occurrence, as embalmed animals had been found, as far back in time, within the burial crypts of ancient Egyptian mummies.  However, the practice had been enhanced throughout the ages and was, in the times of Mr Jarvis, quite a sophisticated art.  Indeed, it was well known that Queen Victoria herself was a great admirer of the method and held an impressive bird collection within her fortressed walls.  Around the time, there was a style within the confines of taxidermy, that was known as anthropomorphic.  This was where animals would be dressed up in human-type clothing or placed in picturesque scenes, such as a tea-party, for the amusement of owners who had commissioned such a request.  However, Mr Jarvis was above such whimsical imaginations and much preferred the more traditional style, of which he continually practiced.

Chapter Three: 

An Idea Takes Flight

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The first night that Mr Jarvis put his scheme into operation was a Saturday.  This was the day of the week when many citizens gave vent to the release of their frustrations in life by drowning their sorrows in the consumption of strong drink within the confines of their local pub.  Donning his thick and heavy overcoat against the cold of the evening, Mr Jarvis placed his hat firmly on his head, pulled up his collar, and set forth into the sub-lighting of the nocturnal darkness.

Mr Jarvis had been walking for around twenty minutes when he heard the music.  He had passed several drinking houses during his amble but none had held his attention.  Now, with the harmony of the singer ringing out clearly into the night air, he stopped and took an appraisal of the ale-house from where the sounds were coming from.  A sign oscillated in the light breeze and a slight creak sounded from its rusty hinges as it swayed.  The hoarding beheld a painting of a giant green serpent interlocked with a bull that was being clearly crushed by the snake’s embrace.  Emblazoned in bold black lettering surrounding the scene were the words ‘The Last Breath of Life’.   

Mr Jarvis moved forwards and progressed through the open door of the building.  Once inside, he could see that the place was throbbing with the intensity of life as folk chatted with one another in every space of the premises.  Half empty glasses abounded on tables, as they waited patiently to be lifted to fuel and stimulate the capacity of enjoyment of the residents around the room with their intoxicating wetness.  Mr Jarvis smiled secretly to himself as he watched the singer, standing alone on the small stage, valiantly attempting to compete with the hub-bub by singing at his maximum volume.

Upon nearing the bar, he was observed by a server behind the counter and asked for his pleasure.  After indicating his request for a whisky, a small glass was subsequently placed before him and he handed over the requested payment.  Taking a sip, the biting liquor burned at the back of his throat, leaving a warm, pleasurable feeling as it passed away and into his system. 

Although the drink was appreciated, it wasn’t what Mr Jarvis was seeking.  He lingered a while and, not having spied anything of interest, was just about to depart when he saw her.  She was young, probably in her early twenties, and she looked stunningly beautiful.  Mr Jarvis watched spellbound, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before his eyes.  He wondered how he hadn’t seen her before but considered that she must have been on the far side of the room, hidden away from his place of observation.  He could see that she was preparing to leave, as she had fastened her coat and was saying her goodbyes to some of the people that sat near her.  One of the men spoke something to her and, as she proffered her palm outwards, the man bent and brushed his lips against her outstretched hand.  Mr Jarvis looked on mesmerised as he viewed the girl’s delicately extended fingers that appeared to him to be so tantalisingly attractive.  After all her farewells were finally completed, the girl swirled towards the door and brushed past him slightly.  He could smell her perfume as she passed and his eyes closed in delight as he drew her fragrance in through his nostrils.  Ignoring his drink that lay on the counter, he followed the woman out into the night.

At first, he couldn’t see her, as she had turned and walked around the side of the pub.  However, with the limited options that she could have taken, he moved laterally and saw that she was strolling unhurriedly away from him.  Taking the same direction as the girl, he matched her pace, twenty paces behind.  As she moved out of the dim lamplight glow and moved into a belt of darkness, he started to panic a little, thinking that he might lose her.  Quickening his pace, he hastened in the direction she had been walking and, suddenly, came up short as he bumped into her; for she had stopped for an instant to check her bearings.  Both parties gave a startled cry at the surprise encounter and, equally, Mr Jarvis and the girl found themselves apologising to each other at the same time.  The small exchange caused the girl to laugh and, although Mr Jarvis could not see her distinctly, the warmth in her voice thrilled him to the core.  After once again extending an apology, Mr Jarvis asked if he could escort the girl a little further until they had found a better area of streetlight coverage.  The girl thanked him for his offer, laughed once again, and then linked her arm with his and bade him continue on their journey.

In the darkness, Mr Jarvis was sweating profusely.  The girl kept up a stream of unceasing chatter and had obviously had a previous string of drinks, judging by