The Samsara Project by David Burgess (romantic books to read .TXT) 📕

/> John took the card and put it in his wallet.
“Thanks. See you again then” said John. He then turned around, as the taxi drove off, and walked into the offices of the Daily Herald.
Six minutes later John was sat at his desk having got himself a cup of coffee from the vending machine on the way.
“You look rough,” said Andrew, “Good afternoon then?”
“As good as could be expected. Enough of me though, how did you get on?”
“I went to see that private detective; he’ll get back to us as soon as he has any news. It looks as though that will be tomorrow.”
“What did you ask him to check?”
“The backgrounds of Suzie and her boyfriend, he said he’ll check back as far as he can. He asked if we had any theories or ideas so I gave him a quick run-through of what we came up with.”
“Any luck with the Ripper searches, anything new?”
“Don’t know if I found anything new or not because I’ve not looked into the Ripper killings before so I’ll need you to help me out a bit.”
“OK, what have you got then?”
“Do you think anyone knew who the Ripper was?”
John thought for a moment; “Probably, I think it would have been difficult for no one at all to know who he was. Did you find the list of usual suspects?”
“I did, there seemed to have been the usual main suspects. Kosminski, a poor Polish Jew resident in Whitechapel; Montague John Druitt, a 31 year old barrister and school teacher who committed suicide in December 1888; Michael Ostrog, a Russian-born multi-pseudonymous thief and confidence trickster, believed to be 55 years old in 1888, and detained in asylums on several occasions and Dr Francis J. Tumblety, 56 Years old, an American 'quack' doctor, who was arrested in November 1888 for offences of gross indecency. But, they were all speculation and with no hard evidence against any of them the police did not even arrest or question any of them. Soon after the last murder Dr Tumblety did leave the country very quickly to go and live in America. Some speculate that he carried on killing over there and became known as the ‘Boston Strangler’. Again that’s only speculation.”
“You know my thoughts on that Andrew. I think the Ripper died after the last killing. Take Nathan Kaminsky, he died from syphilis the following year. Suppose he caught it off a Whitechapel prostitute, could be enough reason to kill. Kaminsky could have been taking out his revenge on the victims. There were other suspects as well; some very influential people were investigated by the police. Prince Albert Victor was second in line to the throne; Sir William Gull was Queen Victoria’s personal physician. Prince Albert’s tutor from Cambridge University, James K. Stephen was another. Also soon after the last murder the body of another suspect, Montague John Druitt, was found floating in the Thames. One suspect almost managed a confession. Convicted murderer Neill Cream is believed to have shouted “I am Jack the …. “ We’ll never know the last word as the hangman’s rope snapped his neck before he could say it. Then there was James T. Maybrick, he was a Liverpool merchant who a year later in 1889 murdered his wife. The police had no shortage of suspects, in fact I think their problem was they had too many. Why is it that the Police had so many suspects?”
Andrew jumped in “So the real killer could get away, be just ‘another suspect. When Arrest a lot of people are arrested or questioned over a crime and nobody is charged the Police look desperate. Those questioned could say that the Police were picking up anyone they thought they could pin the murder on. The Police’s actions could even give public sympathy for those questioned.”
“Possibly, you could have a point,” John continued; “You see Andrew, all the murders took place over a three month period in a small area, no more than one square mile, of Whitechapel and Stepney. Also there were other murders in the area at the same time and it’s easy to put them all down to the same killer. I think there was more than one murderer at the time. There were the ‘Ripper’ killings and also the ‘Whitechapel murders’. Over time the two have blended together and now the lines between the two have blurred. Jack the Ripper is now getting far more credit than he deserves in the ‘serial killer league of victims’. There was a few moments pause, “Did you find anything else Andrew?”
“Sorry John, nothing, there was only one report of an accidental death, and that was a woman run over by some runaway horses.”
“Thanks for looking Andrew. I was clutching at straws hoping you might have found something new, but, after all this time I suppose everything that there is to find out about the Ripper killings has already been found.”
“Who was the Ripper John?”
“I don’t know Andrew, no one does.”
“Then everything there is to find out has not been found out. At least not until that question has been answered, and answered once and for all. By the way have you ever read the Ripper’s criminal profile?”
”What profile? They didn’t have criminal profiles in the eighteen eighties.”
“So I have found something then.”
“Go on, you’ve got my attention.”
“Ever heard of the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit based at Quantico in the US.”
”Yes, they are the world’s leading criminal profilers. They’ve helped solve crimes all over the world by narrowing down who the local police should be looking for. They mainly deal with serial killers.”
“And Jack the Ripper was a ……..”
“Serial killer”
“Exactly, someone at the FBI’s School of Profiling though it would be a good idea to ask their class students to profile Jack the Ripper. Makes interesting reading. Here, I printed a copy off for you.”
Andrew handed John a piece of A4 paper. John started to read it.
F.B.I. Profile: Subject ‘Jack the Ripper’

‘Jack the Ripper was, in all probability, a single white male who lived alone in the Whitechapel area. This allowed him to come home after a murder without having to answer any questions about where he'd been, what he'd been doing, and why he and his clothing were bloody. His victims tended to be older prostitutes; therefore, Jack may have been somewhat older. While age is the most difficult component to profile, and no suspect should be eliminated because of an age discrepancy, Jack was probably 30-37 years of age at the time he committed these murders. In addition, he was in the same socio-economic class as his victims, perhaps one stratum above them, but no more. He was a quiet, withdrawn loner who worked in a menial job Monday to Friday. He likely drank in the same local pubs as did his victims and, therefore, may have been acquainted with them to a degree before the murders. He was nocturnal and prowled his Whitechapel neighbourhood on a regular basis. It is unlikely that these were his first attacks upon females. Earlier attacks may have been less violent, may have gone unreported or were not thoroughly investigated, especially if the complainants were prostitutes. He hated women and was fearful of them, but his quiet, innocuous nature kept him from becoming a viable suspect, as he seemed incapable of such horrific violence. While his knowledge of the neighbourhood was undoubtedly helpful to him in avoiding detection, he was generally luckier than he was good’.

“Interesting reading,” said John handing the paper back to Andrew, “We’ll probably print that but leave it on the side for now. Let’s see how this pans out. Nothing matching the profile came up at all in your searches?”
“No, not even close.”
“Have you ever read a typical serial killers profile?”
“No” replied Andrew. “That’s the first one I have seen.”
“I’ve got it here somewhere.” John was looking through a filing cabinet behind his desk. “Here it is, not much to it but interesting. Might be worth comparing the two, could be a good angle for a story.”
John gave the profile to Andrew:

A "typical" profile of a serial killer is a white male aged between 18 and 32. The killer was probably abused as a child. In their early teen they probably had a period of bedwetting and abusing animals. Generally they also like starting fires.

Andrew handed the paper back to John. “I could come up with a general story on profiling and how it has helped the police narrow down their searches.”
“See what you can put together, I’ll look at it and we’ll take it from there.”
John leaned back and stretched his arms up over his head. “You sober, Andrew?”
“Yes, why?” he replied
John threw Andrew the keys to his Jaguar, told him where it was parked and asked him to pick it up for him. “Twenty pounds should cover the taxi fare and can you pick me up a six thirty in the morning. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“You’re sure about this? I mean it’s your Jaguar, the holy of holies.”
“Normally true,” relied John, “but I’ve been drinking, a lot and I can’t drive it myself. Also, I don’t want the car left where it is overnight. The lesser of two evils says you collect the car for me. See you in the morning Andrew, and don’t be late.”

Chapter 6

Andrew arrived at John’s apartment at six fifty five. John was already waiting outside, pacing up and down the pavement like a father waiting for the birth of his firstborn. The Jaguar purred to a smooth stop. Andrew turned off the engine, got out of the car and handed the keys back to John. John walked around the car, pretending to get into the passenger side by mistake. “Forgot, I’m driving,” he said. He then walked around the other side of the car and got in the driver’s seat. Andrew by this time was already in the passenger seat, belted up and ready to go. John pressed ‘memory one’ on the seat and eight electric motors returned the seat to John’s pre programmed driving position. He put the keys in the ignition, turned the engine on, closed his eyes and savoured the sound of the muted power from the three litre engine.
Andrew looked at him, “Boys and their toys.” He muttered.
“Sorry Andrew, what was that you said?”
“I just wondered what we were doing today.”
”Let’s get to the office, grab a coffee and something to eat then we’ll decide.”
The office desk looked more like a McDonald’s takeaway than the desk of a national daily papers chief crime reporter. From the looks of people passing by it probably also smelt that way. John was busy writing down notes on his pad. Andrew was finishing a fresh brewed coffee with double cream.
“Andrew, I want you to get back to the Adamson’s and find out where they are up to. Don’t take a ‘we’ll get back to you later’ answer either. You can always remind him that we’re paying a lot of money for his services. That usually works. The man may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth but that doesn’t stop him wanting to add a bit more into the family fortune.”
“And you will be doing?”
“I’ve a couple of calls to make this morning, time to call in a couple of favours from one or two people. Then, I’m meeting Pat Wallace for lunch. After that depends on what happens over lunch. I’ll keep in touch.”
”I’ll be on my way then,” said Andrew. “Speak to you later.”
John’s took out his mobile phone. Tapped away on