|
 |
 |
|
|
|
| Author |
Message |
    
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1819
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Sunday, January 11, 2004 - 6:04 pm: | 
|
What does Michael Fish have to say about it?
PS Back in '87, Tarbuck had a couple of good lines : "The wind was so strong, it uprooted several 'Crossroads' actors" and "The wind was so strong, it separated Ken Dodd from his wallet".
Robert |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 709
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 1:02 pm: |
|
Yes, Natalie
I enjoyed your 'Kate Speaks' piece very much indeed. I too do not like to see the public distibution of such images, and quite honestly do not feel that they have contributed a jot to our knowledge of the case.
My congratulations. |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 710
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 1:07 pm: |
|
Robert
I thought your effort absolutely fabulous.
I actually hooted and howled with laughter, so it was that good.
I do love it when the poetry and prose here has undergone some cross-dressing from another thread.
'Gang of Two'! or should that be 'Gang Gang of of Two Two'? |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 711
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 1:11 pm: |
|
Thanks for the good wishes, the storm is still hovering but as yet not struck, so I had a few minutes spare.
|
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 712
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 1:12 pm: |
|
More ‘rambles’ in Whitechapel.
‘Amelia, my dear, allow me to pin this pretty flower to your…ah, well,’ Jack hesitated but then bravely recovered. ‘I mean, of course, to pin it on that part of your anatomy located just above the Tendinous intersection and just below the subclavius.’
‘My chest do you mean, dearest Jack?’ asked Amelia coyly, causing Jack to blush handsomely. ‘You are the sweetest boy!’ she cried out with joy.
The pair had stopped outside a certain Matthew Packer’s fruit stall in the Berner Street.
‘Get your flours and grapes here, folks!’ shouted the old Cockney lag.
‘Do try some of these lovely black grapes as well, Amelia,’ insisted Jack. ‘But make sure you spit the pips out girl, as we don’t want them showing up on your post mortem report.’
Amelia positively hooted with laughter and as a consequence struck Jack such a humorous blow on the shoulder that it knocked him clear across the street and into the arms of a passing constable who promptly returned Jack to Amelia with an ‘evening all’ and a polite dip of his helmet.
‘Now then Master Packer,’ asked Jack. ‘What do I owe you for the pleasure, kind sir?’
‘Well now,’ old Packer scratched his grizzled head and hitched up his disreputable pants. ‘That’ll be a penny for the flower and four pence for the grapes…’
‘What!’ screamed Jack. ‘Are you mad Master Packer? Have you taken leave of your senses my good man? You honestly wish to charge me four pence for a bunch of grapes when I could as easily find myself a Catholic whore for the same price and then rip her to pieces to boot!? This is an outrage, sir!’
‘Quite right Jack!’ chimed in Amelia and in one swift movement pinned the unfortunate Packer across his stall amongst the fruit and vegetables with a wicked knife clapped to his throat.
‘I believe you may want to reconsider your pricing strategy and policy as a matter of urgency, Master Packer,’ she advised him.
On his feet again a few moments later, and with cabbage, tomato and a few parsnips in his hair the old boy counted through the transaction once again.
‘Oh all right, all right,’ he finally grumbled. ‘That will be four pence for the flower and a penny for the grapes then. How does that suit you Master Jack?’
‘Splendid!’ Jack cried. ‘So how much is that all together my good man?’
‘Well, sir…’ mused Packer bringing out his abacus. ‘Let’s see now, if the grapes are a penny and the flower is four pennies…’ the old hands flew over the abacus like demons for a full minute. ‘By my reckoning sir that is dead-on one shilling and sixpence, sir.’
‘An absolute bargain!’ cried Jack and handed the old codger a polished farthing, which Packer immediately tested with his two remaining teeth.
‘This is a polished farthing,’ he told Jack, handing the coin back.
‘Dear me!’ swore Jack. ‘Some Catholic whore must have slipped me that last night while I was helping them on their way…’
‘So kind!’ cried Amelia.
‘You said a florin, did you sir?’ asked Jack as he counted the change in his pocket.
‘No sir,’ replied Packer. ‘I said a guinea, sir.’
‘Splendid fellow!’ shouted Jack. ‘Here’s a silver sixpence for you then.’
‘Thank you kind sir,’ Packer replied, nodding his head, causing a variety of rotten vegetables to fly around the stall. ‘The exact amount we spoke of sir.’
‘What a charming fellow!’ rejoiced Jack as they continued along Berner Street.
‘I should like to cut the tongue out of his head and make him wear it as a cap!’ hissed Amelia as she spat out a mouthful of grape seed.
‘A charming sentiment, my dear cousin!’ cried Jack. ‘And I should like to make a suit from his skin!’
‘And I a fine hide handbag from his belly!’ rejoiced Amelia.
‘And I a handsome necklace from his guts!’ whooped Jack.
But before the jolly little game could go any further they spied some sort of fracas on the other side of the street.
‘Why Jack!’ asked Amelia. ‘Whatever goes on across the street there? Those two men appear to be attacking that poor woman!’
It appeared that the two men were attempting to pull the poor woman into a nearby yard using their brute force; and savage cries of ‘Come on, you Catholic whore!’ and ‘We’re going to slice you up for dinner!’ could be heard from the brutish men.
Jack called out:
‘Ahoy there, you scallywags, what do you do there with that poor woman?’
Startled by the sudden interruption the men stopped their assault and faced the pair across the road.
‘What ho Jack!’ called one of the men. ‘It is only us, your uncle Charles’ club fellows and compatriots, Dr Barnado and Mr Gladstone, merely out on the streets of Whitechapel to help the needy and poor of the district.’
‘Amelia!’ Jack cried. ‘What a wonderful coincidence, it is two of uncle Charles’ dearest friends, Dr Barnado who you will remember from New Year’s Eve, and the Right Honourable W.E. Gladstone to boot, former Prime Minister and now leader of the opposition, we must introduce you immediately!’
Without further ado the pair crossed the road and warm introductions took place all round, whilst the former prime minister removed his tie and quickly made fast the woman to the gates of the yard with that object.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce your lady friend?’ asked Amelia of the woman who appeared now to have fainted quite away, obviously in utter gratitude to her twin saviours of the night.
‘Ah, my dear girl,’ said Dr Barnado, ‘It is merely one of the many unfortunates who cross our path nightly, and it is our earnest intention to help these poor and wretched souls to a better place, where they might finally be at rest from the wickedness of this tiresome world.’
‘So kind!’ cried Amelia.
‘Come Amelia,’ ordered Jack. ’We promised uncle Charles to have you home before midnight to allow him some target practise. Good night gentlemen. I wish you good hunting!’
And with that Amelia and Jack took their leave but as they slowly strolled along Berner Street arm-in-arm they could hear the two gentlemen discussing their urgent business at hand.
‘Right Gladstone,’ said Barnado. ’You untie the Catholic whore and I’ll drag her into the yard.’
‘Hold my black bag then Barnado,’ replied that worthy fellow.
‘Dear Jack,’ sighed Amelia. ‘I have enjoyed our little ramble so much tonight that I shall relent and allow you to show me your collection of illustrated medical books.’
‘Yippee!’ cried Jack into the night, and thus was legend born.
|
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 199
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 3:43 pm: |
|
Terrific AP.There is a great atmosphere permeating
these stories of Victorian life.They transport you back to Berner Street,make you see it through
the eyes of two middle class young people from such a background as theirs and then through someone like Gladstone/Dr Barnado.This picture tallies with my own.And its full of the very contradictions that may well have spawned Jack.
Nothing is as it seems,noone is who they wish to appear to be and they are all utterly ruthless.
You do a great service to our understanding of the value system and hierarchies as they manifested themselves in those times for those people.....with all the dark humour as well.
Brilliant AP.
ps Thankyou for your encouraging words re Kate speaks.
Natalie |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1823
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 3:51 pm: |
|
Crazy and hilarious, AP! I particularly liked the business with the money, redolent of the pure lunacy of Eccles, Bluebottle et al. Jack and Amelia worked very well, and then we had Barnardo and Gladstone - after what had gone before, I was fully expecting Stride to tell them both to buzz off, as she was no cheap whore and would not consent to be ripped up by anyone below the rank of royalty!
Thanks for your comments.
Robert |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 200
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 3:55 pm: |
|
Robert.Like AP I thought this last piece of yours wickedly funny.Some of the imagery was superb---especially of mad Uncle Charles at the beginning and Jack/Joe with his [from old sketches very smooth/slicked back hair]suddenly having it standing on end---fabulous.I could go on and on but really both you and AP have a touch of genius
in your humour!
Natalie |
Suzi Hanney
Inspector
Username: Suzi
Post Number: 238
Registered: 7-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 4:08 pm: |
|
Natalie,
I agree ! Well done chaps!! How's your computer horror going??
Cheers
Suzi |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1825
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 4:32 pm: |
|
Thanks Natalie and Suzi.
Natalie, while your computer's up the creek, if you want to email me your poems maybe I can type them up and post them for you (as long as they're not Aeneid length!)
Robert |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 201
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 4:40 pm: |
|
Hi Suzi and Robert,
Its very kind of you Robert to make this offer-so I will try to work on one or two more ideas and then email them[dont worry they wont be that long at all].
I"m stll struggling with it Suzi butb have a firm date to take it in to the shop itself and they will act as a base for me to get it repaired.
Thats next Monday
Thanks for asking
Natalie |
Suzi Hanney
Inspector
Username: Suzi
Post Number: 245
Registered: 7-2003
| | Posted on Monday, January 12, 2004 - 5:33 pm: |
|
Nat
Good luck kiddo!!
Suzi |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 717
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 8:31 am: |
|
Thanks for all the positive comments, it is heartening to know that stuff posted here is actually read and enjoyed.
Unfortunately the expected storm still hasn't arrived so I again had a few minutes spare. |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 718
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 8:35 am: |
|
Jack and Uncle Charles visit the Seaside. (1)
‘Well, I must say, uncle Charles, it is jolly decent of Scotland Yard to invite us both down to Brighton to take in the sea air for a few days at their wonderful seaside home!’ cried Jack in delight as the London-Brighton Express chugged its way slowly across the countryside heading for the coast.
‘Yes my dear boy!’ agreed that worthy as he puffed furiously on a fine Habana cigar, took non too gentle sips of brandy from his silver hip flask and stared belligerently at the country vicar sat opposite them in the first-class non-smoking carriage. ‘A splendid treat indeed!’
‘Must you puff so on that damned cigar, sir?!’ demanded the vicar who was quite wreathed in the dense clouds of smoke from uncle Charles’ cigar. ‘Especially when there is a sign directly above your head, sir, strictly forbidding smoking in this non-smoking carriage?!’
‘Pon my word!!’ roared uncle Charles, quite lifting the country vicar’s wig for an instant. ‘Is that a fact, sir?! Jack my boy, this gentleman of the cloth appears to be opposed to your old uncle Charlie enjoying a harmless puff on his fine old Habana cigar in this first-class carriage. What say you boy?’
The country vicar suddenly found himself with a wicked cut-throat razor clapped to his throat and also staring straight down the muzzle of a large and formidable looking service pistol.
The small click when uncle Charles cocked his service pistol was like a thunderclap in the confines of the small carriage.
‘What say you now sir to my fine cigar?’ enquired uncle Charles, actually placing the muzzle of his service pistol into the county vicar’s left nostril.
‘Ah… well…’ stuttered the vicar. ‘I must say that I do enjoy a fine Habana myself, good sir, so please continue - in fact I earnestly pray you to do so - with your delightful habit!’
‘Filthy Catholic pig dog!’ screamed Jack with spittle flying from his lips. ‘I’ll slit your filthy neck from ear to ear!’
‘Quick sir!’ urged uncle Charles. ‘Tell my boy here that you are of good Protestant stock at once, otherwise I fear he will stick you like the Catholic pig he believes you to be!’
‘Born and bred!’ screamed the country vicar. ‘Church of England baptised and not a Sunday missed in fifty years!’
‘Thank the devil!’ sighed uncle Charles as he holstered his service pistol. ‘Jack my boy, put your blade away, the gentleman is one of us.’
Jack unable to contain his venom any longer set-about the leather seat next to the country vicar, slashing and ripping it apart with his razor and madly pulling all the stuffing out and then scattering it around the carriage.
’Catholic scum!’ Jack screamed as he set about the seat with renewed vigour. ’That’s your guts ripped out! Now I’ll have your blasted heart!’
But at that moment a gentile lady in bonnet passed through the corridor of the train and Jack was on his feet and out of the door in an instant with a great cry of ‘Papist bitch!’, and disappeared down the corridor, waving his cut-throat razor above his head, from where loud screams could be heard.
‘Your son has peculiar habits, sir,’ commented the country vicar.
‘My nephew, sir,’ replied uncle Charles gently sliding his service pistol out from its holster.
‘And what a splendid fellow he is too!’ screamed the country vicar and was rewarded with the sight of the service pistol sliding back into its holster.
As the train pulled into Brighton station, Jack re-entered the carriage, still clutching his cut-throat razor, awash with blood and appearing in a state of utter stupefaction.
‘Good heavens!’ cried the country vicar. ‘What on earth has happened to your nephew!?’
‘Nose bleed,’ grunted uncle Charles, and the pair took their leave of the bemused gentleman of the cloth.
As they stepped down from the train a loud voice hailed them:
‘What ho Charles! Over here, old chap!’
It was none other than Inspectors William Race and Abberline of Scotland Yard who were also down at the coast enjoying the benefits of the Convalescent Police Seaside Home, and they had come to meet their superior officer and escort him and his dear nephew to that establishment of peace and recuperation in nearby Hove.
Uncle Charles shook their hands warmly, whilst Jack stood stock still, covered in blood and still clutching his cut-throat razor.
‘Good god!’ cried Inspector Race. ‘What the devil has happened to Jack?’
‘Yes,’ said Abberline. ‘He looks absolutely appalling. What ever has happened, Charles?’
‘A mere bagatelle,’ cried uncle Charles waving his hands in depreciation at the concern. ‘I warned the boy not to attempt to shave on the moving train, but you know how head-strong Jack is, and the poor fellow nicked himself when the train was forced to brake for a damned cow just outside Guilford.’
‘Damn pity!’ cried Inspector Race. ‘But never you mind, Charles, we’ll soon have him cleaned up once we get you to the Seaside Home, give me that bag of yours…’
As they walked down the platform they were forced to skirt around two ambulance attendants unloading a covered stretcher from the rear carriage of the train.
‘Heavens, Charles!’ commented Abberline. ‘Not much luck on your train today. What’s gone on there then, old boy?’
‘I believe the poor woman fell down the small flight of steps into the water closet,’ uncle Charles replied. ‘Strangely enough just when the train was forced to brake for that damned cow!’
‘Rum do, eh Charles?’ commented Inspector Race.
‘Rum do, indeed!’ confirmed uncle Charles.
|
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1836
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 9:34 am: |
|
Brilliant piece, AP.The displaced aggression with the train seat was hilarious, and I loved the way the poor female passenger was brought back at the end. Nose bleeds, shaving cuts...we'll be on to Private Godfrey's wasp stings next.
Very clever, to shift the setting to Brighton!
God knows what's going to happen once Jack gets to Broadmoor!
Robert |
AP Wolf
Chief Inspector
Username: Apwolf
Post Number: 720
Registered: 2-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 1:41 pm: |
|
Thanks Robert, glad you are enjoying the chaotic ride down to Brighton.
I've been working on part two today - obviously promised storm still hasn't arrived - but am having difficulties because it makes me laugh so much I can barely write it!
I don't know whether I could ever allow Jack to be confined to Broadmoor, for surely that is the end?
Ah well, I suppose we all have to fall down the stairs sometime. In fact I might well have that written on my gravestone:
'Poor AP, he has fallen down the stairs.'
Thanks again, Robert. |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 202
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 4:24 pm: |
|
Yes AP hilarious as ever.Loved the bit where the vicar"s wig lifts off!
Natalie[cant wait for the next bit!
Robert,the computer is playing up like anything
so Im going to take up your offer to email.
Thanks Natalie |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 203
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 4:47 pm: |
|
Robert can you check your email to see if my poem[if you can call it that]has arrived?Many Thanks
Natalie |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1838
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 4:58 pm: |
|
Yes, Natalie, and a bloody fine one it is.
I'm just off for a cuppa and a fag, and then I'll type it up and post it.
Robert |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 204
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 5:07 pm: |
|
Very many thanks Robert-you"re so kind!
Natalie |
Suzi Hanney
Inspector
Username: Suzi
Post Number: 260
Registered: 7-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 5:08 pm: |
|
Robert-I'll join you (probably outside these days !!Hmmmmmmmmm!) for the fag and the we'll have a large one!! (ooo 'eh missus!!)
Nat
Poem sounds great..hope I get to see it and that the beast gets well soon (Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr)
Cheers
Suzi |
Robert Charles Linford
Assistant Commissioner
Username: Robert
Post Number: 1839
Registered: 3-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 5:28 pm: |
|
For Mary :
When I looked at the picture of your grave
and saw the red and pink flowers
I wondered
Did you like flowers?
I thought of the photograph of you
and wondered
What was it he wanted from you?
He left your eyes and hair
Did they love you for your yellow hair?
When I walk past Christchurch
in spitalfields
I wonder
did you ever go inside?
Did you say your prayers?
Did you believe in God?
I think you may have given up
Knowing what happened to you.
What about Limerick?
I've tried to picture its greenness
when the trees are starting to leaf.
Perhaps your soul left your body that night
and fled to Limerick
Sometimes I see a figure by a lake.
It's night time
she's wearing a dark skirt
and a shawl's pulled tight around her.
She's alone, looking up at the stars.
Natalie Severn
---------------------------------------
May I say, Natalie, I thought that was a wonderfully sad, wistful, questing poem, and the ending was perfect. Congratulations!
Robert |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 205
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 5:41 pm: |
|
T.hankyou so much Robert.for your words and your help with the typing.
All the Best Natalie |
Suzi Hanney
Inspector
Username: Suzi
Post Number: 261
Registered: 7-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 6:14 pm: |
|
Nat!!
That's the dogs b******s!! aka really good !! Makes me feel inspired to have a go myself!!..as a painter of these subjects it may be a change of m.o. but will have a go,....be kind to me chaps!!!
All best
Suzi |
Natalie Severn
Inspector
Username: Severn
Post Number: 209
Registered: 11-2003
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 13, 2004 - 6:24 pm: |
|
Thanks Suzi.Delighted to hear you"re going to have a go!The more the merrier!
I know what you mean about the change in m.o.
-its the sme for me and up against these verbal wizards I feel pretty amateur-but what the hell-have a go I say!
Natalie |
|
Use of these
message boards implies agreement and consent to our Terms of Use.
The views expressed here in no way reflect the views of the owners and
operators of Casebook: Jack the Ripper.
Our old message board content (45,000+ messages) is no longer available online, but a complete archive
is available on the Casebook At Home Edition, for 19.99 (US) plus shipping.
The "At Home" Edition works just like the real web site, but with absolutely no advertisements.
You can browse it anywhere - in the car, on the plane, on your front porch - without ever needing to hook up to
an internet connection. Click here to buy the Casebook At Home Edition.
|
|
|
|
