Part Thirty-four
Vespertine
Part Thirty-four
September 26, 1912
My dear Lord Greystoke,
It is with the most sincere regret that I inform you of the death of Lord Baltimore. His demise, as you expected, is believed to have occurred sometime in the pre-dawn hours of Tuesday, September 24th.
It is my understanding that you are well acquainted with Captain Hensley, of Scotland Yard, and it is at his request, and against my own better judgment, that I shall herein detail the course of my investigation. I was accompanied by Dr. Watson, of London, and he may provide independent corroboration of all that I shall put forth.
At half past three in the morning, on September 24th, you received a note from Lord Baltimore announcing his intention to arrive at your house shortly thereafter. Some hours passed, and at the first sign of daybreak, you made your way to Baltimore's manor, finding it deserted. Your carriage then delivered you to the offices of Scotland Yard, into the office of Captain Hensley, and there you outlined your fears.
All of this you obviously know. Hardly an hour after that, I received a personal visit at my abode from the good Captain, and he implored me to conduct my own investigation into the affair. He intimated that the Whitehall Slasher might have had some hand in this misdeed, and I had implored him not long ago to keep me appraised of any clue which might lead to the Ripper's arrest or capture.
The first abnormality which took my attention was the absence of any living being at the Baltimore estate. Surely a lord of such high placement in English society would have his halls teeming with servants, with cooks and butlers, and all manner of household staff. Yet, as you yourself discovered, there was not one of them in residence. What's more, a thorough and exhaustive search of the grounds yielded no sign of forced entry, or hint of foul play.
Save one.
In the kitchen, stuffed behind a jar of candied pears, there was a bloodied choker, such as one worn by a maid, but punctured in two places. Assuming that the circumference of the item was not at all distended as it was removed, I have deduced that those marks, were they made while the choker was still worn, as seems to be the case, would have punctured the woman's jugular vein.
Further evidence of blood was discovered in the cracks of the tile in front of the pantry, leading me to the conclusion that a lone woman, formerly of the housekeeping staff, had been assaulted in front of the pantry doors, taken by surprise (as there was no evidence of a struggle), and quickly removed from the premises. This last aspect of the theory is due to the location of the wounds. With the jugular vein, as you may well be aware, any serious laceration will produce a veritable geyser of blood. Only careful placement of a bandage or heavy cloth may account for the lack of blood in that room.
But only this, and nothing more was found in Lord Baltimore's home.
The rest of his servants were tracked down through various friends and neighbors, other servants in other homes. Through conversations and interviews with these people, it has been learned that Lord Baltimore himself sent them away in the middle of the night, all of them dressed, as oddly as this may sound, in the clothing he provided from his own wardrobe, and that of his late wife. Into the dead of night he sent them scurrying; butlers and cooks in his top hat and tails, pretty maids in silk gowns. He seemed, or thus is my thought, that he had hoped to throw some predator from his trail, to fool some distant, spying stalker into thinking that any one of them, or none of them at all, was actually himself.
Not a bad plan, all things considered. Ultimately, however, his murderer was too clever for such a ruse and I discovered Lord Baltimore's eviscerated remains barely half a mile from his home.
I apologize in advance for the terrible image I must convey to you now. Captain Hensley has requested that I omit none of these details and so my regrets, such as they are, must precede this account.
Lord Henry Baltimore did not die quietly. Rather, all indications point to a rather valiant struggle against an assailant of impossible strength, whose form seems little swayed by gravity (as evidence by claw marks on the stone walls, some three feet above any man's head), and whose ferocity dwarfs any beast of the forest or jungle. We are speaking of a creature of obvious supernatural origin who, for all its bestial rage, may move with all the silence of a thought.
You may, upon reading this, think that my conclusions are the work of a madman, and indeed, Captain Hensley himself has met them with much skepticism. But you must remember, sir, as horrid as these crimes are, the assailant may not escape the immutable laws of logic.
Lord Baltimore was most cruelly murdered. The bones in both forearms ground to powder. His larynx crushed. His ribs were broken, pulled outward, and his entrails used to strangle him. As I have mentioned before, his attacker left footprints on a standing wall. What natural creature may do such a thing? None. And when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
One might say that it is elementary.
Of course, my dear Dr. Watson may substantiate the medical authority of these claims, should you wish to contact him. As for the vile killer who perpetrated this event, I can only promise you that I shall do my best to bring him to justice.
You have, for what little it may be worth, my most profound sympathy for your loss. I pray that Lord Baltimore has found peace.
Please feel free to contact me should you unearth any further clue. I should very much like to speak with Mrs. Harker in a day's time. Perhaps she possesses a perspective that may illuminate a heretofore darkened aspect of this mystery.
Most sincerely,
S. Holmes
* * *
September 27, 1912
Dear Mr. Holmes,
I am grateful to you for the pains you took to deliver so grisly a message. Mrs. Harker (who, as you know, is staying with me temporarily) and I are far too grief-stricken at this latest loss to grant you the audience you seek. We shall endeavor to survive this, and to find some calmer hour in which to write you again.
In the meantime, thank you once again for the kind service you have done in taking this case. I must warn you, sir, that while Jack the Ripper was not himself responsible for my friend's untimely demise, he is still a menace to all of Her Majesty's subjects. You may, however, be grateful to know that Lord Baltimore and I put a bullet in his leg some weeks ago. One may now know him by his gait, for even a wolf, dressed as he is in the fleece coat of some sheep, will still hobble on a wounded paw.
Forgive me for being brief, detective. Mrs. Harker and I are to meet the venerable Dr. Van Helsing for dinner in an hour. He is... he...
Elementary, you say? Perhaps it is just so.
Thank you again, detective. I pray that I shall be able to write to you again anon.
Gratefully,
Charles, Earl of Greystoke
Part Thirty-four
September 26, 1912
My dear Lord Greystoke,
It is with the most sincere regret that I inform you of the death of Lord Baltimore. His demise, as you expected, is believed to have occurred sometime in the pre-dawn hours of Tuesday, September 24th.
It is my understanding that you are well acquainted with Captain Hensley, of Scotland Yard, and it is at his request, and against my own better judgment, that I shall herein detail the course of my investigation. I was accompanied by Dr. Watson, of London, and he may provide independent corroboration of all that I shall put forth.
At half past three in the morning, on September 24th, you received a note from Lord Baltimore announcing his intention to arrive at your house shortly thereafter. Some hours passed, and at the first sign of daybreak, you made your way to Baltimore's manor, finding it deserted. Your carriage then delivered you to the offices of Scotland Yard, into the office of Captain Hensley, and there you outlined your fears.
All of this you obviously know. Hardly an hour after that, I received a personal visit at my abode from the good Captain, and he implored me to conduct my own investigation into the affair. He intimated that the Whitehall Slasher might have had some hand in this misdeed, and I had implored him not long ago to keep me appraised of any clue which might lead to the Ripper's arrest or capture.
The first abnormality which took my attention was the absence of any living being at the Baltimore estate. Surely a lord of such high placement in English society would have his halls teeming with servants, with cooks and butlers, and all manner of household staff. Yet, as you yourself discovered, there was not one of them in residence. What's more, a thorough and exhaustive search of the grounds yielded no sign of forced entry, or hint of foul play.
Save one.
In the kitchen, stuffed behind a jar of candied pears, there was a bloodied choker, such as one worn by a maid, but punctured in two places. Assuming that the circumference of the item was not at all distended as it was removed, I have deduced that those marks, were they made while the choker was still worn, as seems to be the case, would have punctured the woman's jugular vein.
Further evidence of blood was discovered in the cracks of the tile in front of the pantry, leading me to the conclusion that a lone woman, formerly of the housekeeping staff, had been assaulted in front of the pantry doors, taken by surprise (as there was no evidence of a struggle), and quickly removed from the premises. This last aspect of the theory is due to the location of the wounds. With the jugular vein, as you may well be aware, any serious laceration will produce a veritable geyser of blood. Only careful placement of a bandage or heavy cloth may account for the lack of blood in that room.
But only this, and nothing more was found in Lord Baltimore's home.
The rest of his servants were tracked down through various friends and neighbors, other servants in other homes. Through conversations and interviews with these people, it has been learned that Lord Baltimore himself sent them away in the middle of the night, all of them dressed, as oddly as this may sound, in the clothing he provided from his own wardrobe, and that of his late wife. Into the dead of night he sent them scurrying; butlers and cooks in his top hat and tails, pretty maids in silk gowns. He seemed, or thus is my thought, that he had hoped to throw some predator from his trail, to fool some distant, spying stalker into thinking that any one of them, or none of them at all, was actually himself.
Not a bad plan, all things considered. Ultimately, however, his murderer was too clever for such a ruse and I discovered Lord Baltimore's eviscerated remains barely half a mile from his home.
I apologize in advance for the terrible image I must convey to you now. Captain Hensley has requested that I omit none of these details and so my regrets, such as they are, must precede this account.
Lord Henry Baltimore did not die quietly. Rather, all indications point to a rather valiant struggle against an assailant of impossible strength, whose form seems little swayed by gravity (as evidence by claw marks on the stone walls, some three feet above any man's head), and whose ferocity dwarfs any beast of the forest or jungle. We are speaking of a creature of obvious supernatural origin who, for all its bestial rage, may move with all the silence of a thought.
You may, upon reading this, think that my conclusions are the work of a madman, and indeed, Captain Hensley himself has met them with much skepticism. But you must remember, sir, as horrid as these crimes are, the assailant may not escape the immutable laws of logic.
Lord Baltimore was most cruelly murdered. The bones in both forearms ground to powder. His larynx crushed. His ribs were broken, pulled outward, and his entrails used to strangle him. As I have mentioned before, his attacker left footprints on a standing wall. What natural creature may do such a thing? None. And when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
One might say that it is elementary.
Of course, my dear Dr. Watson may substantiate the medical authority of these claims, should you wish to contact him. As for the vile killer who perpetrated this event, I can only promise you that I shall do my best to bring him to justice.
You have, for what little it may be worth, my most profound sympathy for your loss. I pray that Lord Baltimore has found peace.
Please feel free to contact me should you unearth any further clue. I should very much like to speak with Mrs. Harker in a day's time. Perhaps she possesses a perspective that may illuminate a heretofore darkened aspect of this mystery.
Most sincerely,
S. Holmes
* * *
September 27, 1912
Dear Mr. Holmes,
I am grateful to you for the pains you took to deliver so grisly a message. Mrs. Harker (who, as you know, is staying with me temporarily) and I are far too grief-stricken at this latest loss to grant you the audience you seek. We shall endeavor to survive this, and to find some calmer hour in which to write you again.
In the meantime, thank you once again for the kind service you have done in taking this case. I must warn you, sir, that while Jack the Ripper was not himself responsible for my friend's untimely demise, he is still a menace to all of Her Majesty's subjects. You may, however, be grateful to know that Lord Baltimore and I put a bullet in his leg some weeks ago. One may now know him by his gait, for even a wolf, dressed as he is in the fleece coat of some sheep, will still hobble on a wounded paw.
Forgive me for being brief, detective. Mrs. Harker and I are to meet the venerable Dr. Van Helsing for dinner in an hour. He is... he...
Elementary, you say? Perhaps it is just so.
Thank you again, detective. I pray that I shall be able to write to you again anon.
Gratefully,
Charles, Earl of Greystoke