Mike Resnick: The Other Teddy Roosevelts

“No distinguishing marks?”

“Just the wound.”

“Wound?” said Roosevelt, pouncing on the word. “What wound?”

“On his cheek. It was dripping blood, it was.”

“Which cheek?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Please try.”

She frowned as if trying to recall, then whimpered in pain. “I don’t know, sir.” She looked down the street, where some bobbies were approaching them. “He done sliced another one, didn’t he, sir?”

The American nodded. “Not far from here.”

“These poor women!” sobbed Irma, starting to cry. “When will it stop?”

Roosevelt stood up. “You’re our only eyewitness,” he said. “The police artist may want to speak to you later.”

“But I done told you what I know!”

“Other details may come back to you. Try to cooperate with him.”

She nodded her head while rubbing her tears away with a filthy coat sleeve, and Roosevelt turned to the nearest officer. “When she feels strong enough, take her to the nearest hospital.” He turned and walked rapidly back to the latest victim.

“He really did a job on this one, sir,” said one of the policemen, staring down at the corpse.

The woman’s throat had been slit from ear to ear. The Ripper had then opened her up from neck to groin and gutted her like a fish. Each of her internal organs lay on the ground, neatly arranged in a seemingly meaningless pattern. A piece of her apron had been cut away; the Ripper had evidently use it to wipe his knife.

“Jesus!” said another officer, staring in fascination. “I never saw anyone sliced up like this!”

“You’re the taxidermist, Theodore,” said Hughes, joining them. “Can you tell if anything’s missing?”

Roosevelt studied the organs. “A kidney, I think.”

“I’ll have the police surgeon make sure,” said Hughes. He paused. “If you’re right, then we have to ask the question: as crazy as he is, why would he steal her kidney?”

“I’d hate to know the answer to that one, sir,” said one of the policemen.

“Does anyone know who she is?” asked Roosevelt.

“If she’s got any identification on her, it’s too blood-soaked to read it,” replied Hughes. “We’ll ask around. We should know by morning.”

Roosevelt walked away from the corpse, then signaled Hughes to join him.

“What is it, Theodore?”

“I wanted to speak where we couldn’t be overheard,” replied Roosevelt. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that we can definitely eliminate Prince Eddy from the list of suspects.”

“I am, of course,” said Hughes. “But how do you know?”

“I’ve met him,” said Roosevelt. “He’s a weak man, ravaged by disease. He could barely grip my hand.”

“Are you saying he’s too weak to have killed these women?” asked Hughes, looking unconvinced.

“Anyone can kill an unsuspecting victim with a knife,” responded the American.

“Well, then?”

“Your two witnesses,” said Roosevelt. “They were 28 and 34 years old, in the prime of life. They were healthy, and neither was carrying any excess weight. And they know their way around Whitechapel.” Roosevelt paused. “How could such an ill man, especially one who doesn’t know the area, outrun them? Remember, they said they chased him for three or four blocks. The Albert Victor I met couldn’t have run for one block, let alone four.”

“Thank you, Theodore,” said Hughes, obviously relieved. “You’ve lifted an enormous burden from me.”

“Forget about him, and concentrate on what we do know,” said the American. “For example, we know that the Ripper has an intimate knowledge of Whitechapel or he couldn’t have evaded his pursuers. In fact, he evaded pursuit twice in one night, because we couldn’t have been 60 seconds behind him at the site of this murder, and he vanished like an Apache in the Arizona hills.”

“He probably ducked into a building after he bumped into the midwife,” said Hughes.

“How would he know which ones were unlocked if he didn’t know the area like the back of his hand? Whatever else he may or may not be, the Ripper is a resident of Whitechapel.”

“Blast!” muttered Hughes. “That probably clears a second suspect as well.”

“Oh?”

“A Dr. Thomas Neill Cream. But he wouldn’t know Whitechapel any better than Prince Eddy. Furthermore, he’s quite fat. I doubt that he could have outrun any one.”

Roosevelt stared off into the distance, frowning.

“Is something wrong, Theodore?”

“Of course something’s wrong,” said Roosevelt irritably. “That madman has butchered two more women right under our noses.” He continued looking into the fog and frowning. “And I’m missing something.”

“What?”

He frowned again. “I don’t know. But it’s something I should know, something I’m sure I’ve overlooked.”

“Can I be of any assistance?” asked Hughes. Roosevelt remained motionless for another moment, then shrugged and shook his head.

The morgue wagon arrived, Hughes began supervising the removal of the corpse, and Roosevelt went back to his room where he replayed the events of the evening over and over in his mind, looking for the detail he had missed.

My Dearest Edith:

They identified the evening’s second victim, a poor prostitute named Catherine Eddowes. I know I said I would be coming home shortly, but I cannot leave while this fiend remains at large.

There is no question that he will strike again, but when and where is almost impossible to predict. There seems to be no pattern to his murders until after he has dispatched his victim, and then the pattern is one that I shall not distress you by describing.

There was absolutely nothing I could do to prevent the four murders, but I have the uneasy feeling that I have the ability right now to prevent any further killings, if I could but see the tree rather than the forest. I am certain I know something that might lead to his apprehension, yet I have no idea what that knowledge may be.

Ah, well, there is no need to worry you with my problems. I shall be on the first ship home after this dreadful affair has been brought to a successful conclusion, hopefully in time to make a speech or two on Ben Harrison’s behalf, and then perhaps we’ll take Alice and little Ted on a vacation to Yosemite or the Yellowstone.

Your Theodore

“Where were you last night?” demanded Roosevelt when he entered the Black Swan on the morning of October 1.

“Right here,” answered Colin Shrank. “You think I sliced them two women?”

“I just want to know what time you went home,” said Roosevelt.

“Two o’clock or so.”

“The first of them wasn’t killed until almost three.”

“Well, it weren’t me!” snapped Shrank. “I didn’t kill no bloody women!”

“I never said you did,” said Roosevelt.

“Then why all the questions?”

“Because the one night you didn’t make the rounds with me, the Ripper claimed two more victims. I think I should at least inquire after your whereabouts.”

“Where was you ?” shot back Shrank.

“I was in bed when Elizabeth Stride was murdered, but I was in Captain Hughes’ company when Catherine Eddowes was killed,” replied Roosevelt.

“So are you saying I done it or not?” said Shrank belligerently, his hands balled into massive fists.

Roosevelt stared long and hard at the man, then sighed. “No, I’m not.”

“Good!” said Shrank. “And just to show there’s no hard feelings, I’ll let you buy me a pint of ale.”