As I write,
they're talking about me. It's 120 years this
year - and no one is even near to
knowing what I know. M
illions
of dollars spent by fools to prove or disprove
certain events,
no one in the public domain knows the answer,
the question that has eluded some of the best
and most adept criminological minds. I don’t
even want to talk about any of those conspiracy
theories, they’re all so funny. Many books
dotted through other realms with information to
be
gleaned using your skill and perception. But you
know I'm not that easy a fellow to catch.
The truth, should stretch the
mightiest of imaginations, has certainly tasked
the wealthy and
ponderous over times past. It is a simple set of
questions to know the solution. Was I
working alone? Was I driven by some evil
malevolent force? Was I a cleansing tool or
co-conspirator of the crown or some other
religious sect or organization? Was I an insane
knife wielding indiscriminate murderer? Was I
driven by some inner demon to crusade my
beliefs.
Am
I female wreaking my revenge on the fairer sex?
That my friend, is for you now to
ponder. I will not disclose the definitive
answers here…
don’t think dissecting this very text piece by
piece, will solve any such riddle, so soon;
then again … history tells lies, it’s really in
the who-story rather than history don’t you
think,
the teller of the tale will undoubtedly have an
agenda… to shift your focus, do what you will.
I'm
far harder to catch than you know. This is MY
work - the work of a fiend.
Examine the facts – believe me,
there are lots of facts… documented evidence,
witness
statements about me, testimonies from all walks
of Victorian life, from trade people, ordinary
men and women touched by my evil, the police who
dealt with my various murders,
all have published their theories and
suspicions, the list of suspects grows almost
every
decade that passes. There are countless tombs to
this character you call Jack, formerly
Leather Apron. How many rippers are there? Who
am I? Ponder away my friend.
Jack
