'Why yes, sir. Did you not know?'
At that moment I heard the sounds of a horse
corning into the lane, and a cab appeared.
'Get in, Watson!' a voice shouted, and Holmes
helped me into the cab.
'He has escaped,' he told me. 'We followed him, but
we have lost him.' His face was sad and tired. 'I want
to show you something interesting. Then we can go
home.'
The cab took us to a dark and dirty yard.
'The first woman died here,' Holmes said.
A policeman was standing in the yard. Holmes took a
light from him and shone it on the wall.
'Look at this, Watson,' he said.
These words were written on the wall:
No Time To Rip
'It is the murderer's hand-writing,' Holmes said. 'The
same as in the letter that Lestrade showed us.'
'What is happening?' I cried. 'I cannot understand
what this killer wants.'
'He wants everybody to be afraid of him,' Holmes
told me. 'He wants to be the most evil killer in the
world. He had to kill two women tonight, because he
did not have time to cut and rip the body of the first.
I think he heard somebody corning, and he had to
leave the body and run. Then he killed a second
time, and cut that woman's body to pieces in the
way we have seen.'
We were both silent as the cab took us back to Baker
Street, far from the narrow, dirty streets of east
London.
I could not sleep that night. Every time I closed my
eyes, I saw the body of a woman lying in a dark
corner, covered in blood.