Jack The Ripper - Mark Whitehead [46]
Maybrick’s association with the Ripper only began in 1991 when Michael Barrett was handed a journal by his friend Tony Devereaux. Beyond assuring him it was genuine, Devereaux told Barrett nothing. The journal consists of 63 handwritten pages in an old scrapbook. It was Barrett who identified the author as Maybrick and took it to Doreen Montgomery at literary agents Rupert Crew. Since then barrages of tests have been taken on the ink, the handwriting and the details. Some have ‘proved’ its age, some have not. In June 1994, Barrett confessed to forging the diary, a statement withdrawn by his solicitors. They claimed that he was not in his right mind at the time of the admission. Comparisons with Maybrick’s handwriting suggest he didn’t write the diary. One cautiously advanced theory is that the writer knew him well, because of the inclusion of many personal details of his life. But whether the purpose was to incriminate Maybrick, or merely to forge a legend, is unknown. The diary entries certainly contain factual errors concerning the murders, including the canard about objects arranged at Annie Chapman’s feet. They also contain a risible amount of handwritten laughter. The discovery of a watch in 1993, which had scratched in its inner case Maybrick’s name, the phrase ‘I am Jack’ and the initials of the canonical victims has only created further factions in Ripperology. The carvings have apparently tested as historically correct. The books supporting Maybrick as the Ripper adopt a worrying hectoring tone which emphasise the rifts in this grisly ‘science’. A documentary, The Diary of Jack the Ripper, was made in 1993. Hosted by Michael Winner and featuring various ‘experts’, it draws no final conclusion about Maybrick’s other career.
Dr Frances Tumblety
Fingered by Stewart Evans and Paul Gainey in The Lodger (1995)
Born in Ireland, Tumblety’s family, including eleven children, emigrated to Rochester, New York State, during his childhood. He learned about medicine from a local doctor described as ‘disreputable’. In 1850,Tumblety set himself up as a herb doctor in Detroit. He remained financially secure until his death. Rumours of charlatanism were never far behind nor were those of his preference for young men and his ill-concealed misogyny. Tumblety was run out of Boston when a patient of his died and the coroner’s inquest marked this down to gross malpractice. He was arrested in London, on 7 November 1888 and charged with eight counts of gross indecency and indecent assault with force and arms against four men. Bailed on 16 November, he fled the country four days later. Calling himself Frank Townsend, he arrived in America just in time to find the newspapers heaving with suspicions that he was the Ripper. When Inspector Walter Andrews (who, along with Abberline, was seconded to the Whitechapel investigation) arrived in America, Tumblety fled again. He surfaced in 1893, living with his sister and died in St Louis in 1903. His height (5 feet 10 inches) and prodigious moustache would seem to rule him out of the Ripper race.
Another slight problem is the matter of his arrest on 7 November, which effectively puts him out of the way for Mary Kelly’s murder. Evans and Gainey suggest a solution. A rumour in the American press of the time was that Tumblety had first been arrested on charges of being the Ripper. If this was the case then the police would have released him in time to kill Mary Kelly. Only ten days later did they place him under a ‘holding charge’ of indecent assault. After Tumblety’s death, a collection of preserved uteruses was found amongst his possessions.
Many other medical men have fallen under suspicion. Dr John Hewitt, who was confined to Coton Hill Asylum during 1888, was considered, in 1995, to be Sickert’s unnamed veterinary student (see above). Although Hewitt was released