Solving the Puzzle of Jack the Ripper
The One Who Got Away:
Solving the Puzzle of Jack the Ripper In August 1888, the dwellers of London’s East End arose from sleep to find their lives a little darker than before. Mary Ann Nichols, a prostitute, had been viciously murdered, nearly decapitated by two cuts to the throat, her abdomen displaying multiple cuts (Begg 46). Over the next three years, ten other women would be murdered in the Whitechapel area. While there is no definitive proof linking these murders to one killer, analysis reveals that six of them display similarly rare crime characteristics: mutilation of genitalia, prostitute victims, and posing of bodies (Keppel, et al. 18-9). Five are commonly attributed to Jack the Ripper (1-2). Though they may not have been well known in life, these women—Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catharine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly—would be discussed for the next hundred years. What is it about these cases that have captured the curiosity of so many people for so long? Crime historian Donald Rumbelow answers: “What fascinates people is not the murders themselves. It’s the puzzle. Who? Who did it? Why weren’t they caught? It’s that puzzle that teases everybody” (“Jack”). During the past century, more than two hundred suspects have been offered as solutions to the puzzle. These individuals come from various professions, ethnic races, social strata, and economic standings. In police correspondence, Chief Constable Sir Melville Macnaghten appears to list three suspects by name, M.J. Druitt, Kosminski, and Michael Ostrog, saying that any of them are “more likely than Cutbush to be the killer” (Ryder). After analyzing this memorandum, investigative journalist Paul Begg suggests that these names were arbitrarily selected just to show that Cutbush was not a likely suspect (171). This is simply one example of confusion surrounding the identity of the killer. The most likely suspects include Walter Richard Sickert, a Danish artist; Severin
Solving the Puzzle of Jack the Ripper In August 1888, the dwellers of London’s East End arose from sleep to find their lives a little darker than before. Mary Ann Nichols, a prostitute, had been viciously murdered, nearly decapitated by two cuts to the throat, her abdomen displaying multiple cuts (Begg 46). Over the next three years, ten other women would be murdered in the Whitechapel area. While there is no definitive proof linking these murders to one killer, analysis reveals that six of them display similarly rare crime characteristics: mutilation of genitalia, prostitute victims, and posing of bodies (Keppel, et al. 18-9). Five are commonly attributed to Jack the Ripper (1-2). Though they may not have been well known in life, these women—Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catharine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly—would be discussed for the next hundred years. What is it about these cases that have captured the curiosity of so many people for so long? Crime historian Donald Rumbelow answers: “What fascinates people is not the murders themselves. It’s the puzzle. Who? Who did it? Why weren’t they caught? It’s that puzzle that teases everybody” (“Jack”). During the past century, more than two hundred suspects have been offered as solutions to the puzzle. These individuals come from various professions, ethnic races, social strata, and economic standings. In police correspondence, Chief Constable Sir Melville Macnaghten appears to list three suspects by name, M.J. Druitt, Kosminski, and Michael Ostrog, saying that any of them are “more likely than Cutbush to be the killer” (Ryder). After analyzing this memorandum, investigative journalist Paul Begg suggests that these names were arbitrarily selected just to show that Cutbush was not a likely suspect (171). This is simply one example of confusion surrounding the identity of the killer. The most likely suspects include Walter Richard Sickert, a Danish artist; Severin