What Alice Knew: A Most Curious Tale of Henry James and Jack the Ripper

Chapter 41

Everything happened quickly. Katherine returned as Henry arrived and administered a few drops of laudanum. William came in soon after with news of the murder and immediately sent Archie out with a note to Abberline.

Alice had not allowed anyone to open the box and refused to say anything about it. She had placed it near the bed, but out of her direct sight.

When Abberline arrived, she mutely pointed to it, and he took it into the small drawing room and shut the door. He was gone for several minutes, and when he returned he spoke to the assembled group. “The package that Miss James received appears to contain part of the left breast of Mary Jane Kelly,” he announced. The suspense had been so great for the others that even this shocking information was a relief. Most helpful, however, was the professional tone of the inspector, for he simply stated the facts with grim simplicity: “A portion of that organ was missing when the body was examined by Dr. Phillips. The question now becomes why it was sent to Miss James.”

“It’s obvious,” asserted William, who had been sitting off to the side, tapping his foot in restless anticipation. “The man who painted her portrait has just murdered another woman in the East End. He must know I’m involved in the case and assumes this is the way to scare me off.”

But Alice, who had been leaning back weakly against her pillows, rallied herself. “Walter Sickert is incapable of murder,” she declared. “And besides, he has gone to Cornwall.”

“You hold to that line,” sneered William.

“We have brought Mr. Sickert in for questioning,” said Abberline, waving a hand, “and will see what he has to say for himself.”

Alice had turned chalk white.

“Not in Cornwall, apparently,” said William gloatingly. “I assume the officer assigned to watch him has evidence of his whereabouts last night, though why he couldn’t stop the attack is another matter.”

“We do not know that he committed the crime,” continued Abberline. “All we know is that he went to a public house in Whitechapel on Wednesday evening. He was accompanied by a woman.”

Henry, watching his brother and sister, was struck by the reversal. William turned pale, while Alice regained a degree of color and life. Something had shifted for each of them. He had no idea what it was, but it was interesting to watch.

Abberline continued, “He arrived with the woman at around ten p.m., but he did not leave before the murder. She, however, did. At approximately one a.m. My man noticed because the other women leaving the public house at that time of night were, let’s say, not of a reputable sort, and she, by contrast, was.”

“And when did he leave?” asked William sharply. It was Abberline’s turn to be discomfited. “My man appears to have left the scene when news of the murder became known. When he returned to the public house, Sickert was gone.”

“And who was the woman?” asked Alice.

“We have questioned Sickert on the subject, and he will not say.”

“What did she look like?” asked Henry. William had retreated into a tense silence.

“She was fairly tall and wore a long cape. He could not see her well when they arrived, though he said she was well featured and wore her hair in a thick plait. Leaving, he could see nothing. It was dark, and her hood was up.”