Jack the Ripper very likely went through dry runs and other rituals before he killed. After a while, dry runs aren’t just about practice and instant gratification. They fuel violent fantasies and may involve more than just stalking a victim, especially if the perpetrator is as creative as Walter Sickert. A number of strange events continued to occur in various parts of England. At approximately ten o’clock on the night of September 14th, in London, a man entered the Tower Subway and approached the caretaker. “Have you caught any of the Whitechapel murderers yet?” the man asked as he pulled out a foot-long knife that had a curved blade.
He then fled, yanking off “false whiskers” as he was pursued by the caretaker, who lost sight of him at Tooley Street. The description the caretaker gave the police was of a man five foot three with dark hair, a dark complexion, and a mustache. He was about thirty years old and was wearing a black suit that looked new, a light overcoat, and a dark cloth double-peaked cap.
“I have got a jolly lot of false whiskers & mustaches,” the Ripper wrote on November 27th.
After the Tower Bridge was completed in 1894, the Tower Subway was closed to pedestrians and turned into a gas main, but in 1888 it was a hellish cast-iron tube seven feet in diameter and four hundred feet long. It began at the south side of Great Tower Hill at the Tower of London, ran under the Thames, and surfaced at Pickle Herring Stairs on the south bank of the river. If what the caretaker told police was accurate, he chased the man through the tunnel to Pickle Herring Stairs, which led to Pickle Herring Street, then to Vine Street, which intersected with Tooley Street. The Tower of London is about half a mile south of Whitechapel, and the subway was sufficiently unpleasant that it is unlikely many people or police used it to cross the river, especially if one were claustrophobic or fearful of traveling through a dirty, gloomy tube under water.
No doubt the police considered the man with the false whiskers a kook. I found no mention of this incident in any police reports. But this ;’kook” was rational enough to pick a deserted, poorly lit place for the brazen display of his knife, and it is unlikely he viewed the caretaker as one who could physically overtake him. The man had every intention of causing a stir and no intention of being caught. Friday the 14th was also the day that Annie Chapman was buried.
Three days later, on September 17th, the Metropolitan Police received the first letter signed “Jack the Ripper.”
Dear Boss,
So now they say I am a Yid when will they lern Dear old Boss? You an me know the truth don’t we. Lusk can look forever he’ll never find me but I am rite under his nose all the time. I watch them looking for me an it gives me fits ha ha. I love my work an I shant stop untill I get buckled and even then watch out for your old pal Jacky
Catch me if you can
The letter came to light only recently because it had never been included in the Metropolitan Police records. Originally, it had been filed at the Home Office.
At ten o’clock at night on September 17th – the same day that the Ripper made his debut in what we know as his first letter – a man appeared at the district police court of Westminster. He said he was an art student from New York, and was in London to “study art” at the National Gallery. A Times reporter relayed a dialogue that is so comical and clever it reads like a script.
The “American from New York” said he’d had trouble with his landlady the night before and was seeking advice from the magistrate, a Mr. Biron, who asked what sort of trouble the man meant.
“A terrible shindy,” came the reply.
(Laughter)
The American went on to say he had given the land lady notice that
he wanted to leave her premises on Sloane Street, and she had been