8 December 1888
Night
Royal Theory
đź”” You chose The Royal Theory
If Jack the Ripper was a common man… he could vanish into the alleys of Whitechapel like smoke. But if he were a respectable man… London might protect him. Victorian England ran on hierarchy. Reputation. And silence. The higher you climbed in society… the quieter the truth became.
đź“ž Kim to you
Alright. You’re going to enjoy this one. Or hate it. Possibly both.
đź“ž You
Where are you?
đź“ž Kim to you
Kensington Palace. And before you say anything. Yes. Breaking into a royal residence is a terrible idea. But if the killer was someone powerful… or someone protected by powerful people… this is where the whispers would start. I’m inside Kensington Palace. Not Buckingham Palace. Buckingham is the main royal residence right now. It’s heavily guarded, politically sensitive, full of officials. Kensington is different. Old royal residence. Still occupied by members of the royal household… but more importantly… it’s full of servants. Footmen. Maids. Valets. Stable boys. Kitchen staff. Dozens of them. And servants… hear everything.
đź“ž You
How did you get in?
đź“ž Kim to you
Laundry delivery entrance. Apparently if you carry a basket and walk confidently, no one asks questions. Victorian class systems are wild. No one sees servants.
But walking around asking questions would get me thrown out immediately. So I found someone. A footman. Name’s Thomas. Judging by the way he looked at me… he was already very interested. So I gave him a smile. And suggested a drink.
I’m putting the phone away. If this works… I’ll call back.
đź“ž Call disconnected
…
…
…
đź“ž Call Reconnects
đź“ž Kim
Alright. I’m back. We’re in a servant dining room. Thomas has had several glasses of wine. He believes this evening might end very well for him. Which means he is currently very talkative. Listen.
đź“ž Thomas
You know… you’re not supposed to be down here. Never seen you before. Pretty sure I’d remember that.
đź“ž Kim
Would you?
đź“ž Thomas
Oh absolutely. A girl like you walking these corridors? Half the footmen would trip over themselves trying to help you carry laundry.
đź“ž Kim
You know… you still haven’t told me why you wanted a drink with me. Not that I’m complaining.
đź“ž Thomas
Maybe I just like interesting company.
đź“ž Kim
Dangerous answer. Makes a man hopeful.
Whole city’s gone mad lately though. You noticed that? Even the papers look different. Every headline screaming about those Whitechapel killings. Nasty business.
đź“ž Kim
You read the papers?
đź“ž Thomas
When I can. Usually when the gentlemen leave them lying around after breakfast. They glance at the headlines… shake their heads… and then start talking about politics again. Or shipping routes. Anything but the murders.
Funny thing is… outside these walls that’s all anyone talks about. But in places like this? Whitechapel might as well be another country. Different smells. Different people. Different lives. To the West End… the East End barely exists.
đź“ž Kim
But servants talk.
đź“ž Thomas
Oh we do more than talk. We notice things. That’s the difference. Gentlemen think servants are furniture. But furniture listens.
You hear the rumors eventually. Kitchen girls hear things from carriage drivers. Footmen hear things from guests. Stable boys hear things from policemen. Rumors travel fast through servants. Faster than newspapers sometimes.
đź“ž Kim
What kind of rumors?
đź“ž Thomas
That the killer is someone who knows what he’s doing with a knife. Have you heard what he did to those poor women? Cuts so precise the papers say it must be a medical man. Makes people nervous. Doctors are supposed to save lives. Not carve them up.
Then there’s the better rumor. My favorite. That the police already know who the killer is. But can’t arrest him.
đź“ž Kim
Why not?
đź“ž Thomas
Because he’s too important. Due to his rank or title or his connections. You’d be amazed what reputation can protect in this country. A dock worker kills someone? He swings from a rope by morning. A respected gentleman? Well. Things become… complicated. Evidence vanishes. Witnesses forget. Newspapers suddenly lose interest. It’s all about reputation.
You’re very good at listening. Most girls would be bored by now.
đź“ž Kim
Not. I’m not bored. I’m curious.
đź“ž Thomas
Dangerous trait. Curiosity. But sexy nevertheless.
But I don’t buy it. Not really. The idea that some lord is running around Whitechapel with a knife. People like stories like that. Makes the mystery feel grander. But real life’s messier.
Men like that live surrounded by servants. Dozens of them. Someone dresses them. Someone washes their clothes. Someone prepares their bath. Someone cleans their room. You think a gentleman could sneak home covered in blood every night… and nobody notices?
Impossible. Servants notice everything. Everything. A secret in a house with thirty staff members? Wouldn’t stay secret past breakfast. Kitchen would know first. Then the rest of us. Then half of London.
đź“ž Kim
You sound very certain.
đź“ž Thomas
Because it’s true. You can hide things from the public. You cannot hide things from servants.
You know who probably came closest though? Catching the man, I mean. A detective. Name of Frederick George Abberline. You heard of him?
đź“ž Kim
Maybe.
đź“ž Thomas
He worked Whitechapel for years before the murders. Knew every alley. Every lodging house. Every thief and drunk and troublemaker. When the killings started, Scotland Yard dragged him back there because he actually understood the place. Spent weeks talking to people. Anyone who might have seen something.
Still never caught the devil though. Later on I heard he said the whole investigation got… “lost in theories.” Too many suspects. Too many stories.
đź“ž Kim
Always.
đź“ž Thomas
The killer’s probably exactly the kind of man nobody remembers seeing. Someone from Whitechapel itself. A gentleman walking around there at night would stand out like a lighthouse. But a local? Invisible.
đź“ž Kim
Someone’s coming.
đź“ž Butler
Thomas? Why are you not in your quarters? And who is in there with you?
đź“ž Thomas
You need to go. Now. If he sees you I’m finished.
đź“ž Kim to you
Leaving. Now.
đź“ž Butler
Stop! Who is that woman?!
đź“ž Kim to you
Okay. That went bad.
Heading for the garden exit.
đź“ž Unknown
“Miss.” “You shouldn’t be here.”
đź“ž Kim to you
…that voice wasn’t Thomas. And it wasn’t the butler.
I think someone else was listening to that conversation.
đź“ž You
What now?
đź“ž Kim
Now I’m going to finish it
đź’ What a weird ending. It’s certain that Kim has lost all thinking capacity and is on full survival mode at this point. You wonder when she will call again. If she calls again. She might not. That thought haunts you. What did she mean with ‘Now I’m going to finish it’? What is she going to do? You must go to Secrets Hall to communicate with Mr. Sterces.
đź“ž Call Disconnects
