Jack The Ripper - Mark Whitehead [8]
In 1880, the couple separated, with William retaining custody of the children. He paid Mary Ann five shillings in weekly allowance until 1882, when he learned that she was living by prostitution. From September 1880, she spent much time in workhouses, predominantly Lambeth. For two months in 1883, she moved back in with her father, leaving after a quarrel over her drinking. Between June 1883 and October 1887 she lived with Thomas Stuart Drew, a blacksmith, at 15, York Street, Walworth. Little is known about their relationship or why they parted. Her father last saw her in June 1886, when she attended the funeral of her brother, but they did not speak. Between April and June 1888, she was employed by Mr and Mrs Cowdrey in Wandsworth. During this time she wrote to her father attempting to bridge the gap between them. Her father’s sympathetic letter in reply brought no response, so he was unaware that she had absconded from her employers on 12 July, stealing clothing worth £3 10 shillings. She began lodging at 18,Thrawl Street on 2 August 1888 where she shared a room with three other women. From 24 August, she stayed at ‘The White House’ 56, Flower and Dean Street, a doss house which allowed men and women to sleep together.
At 12.30am, on 30 August, she was spotted leaving The Frying Pan public house in Brick Lane. At 1.20am, she attempted to return to 18,Thrawl Street.The deputy keeper described her as ‘slightly tipsy’ and turned her away because she did not have her ‘doss’. Nichols laughed as she left, telling him: ‘I’ll soon get my doss money; see what a jolly bonnet I’ve got now.’ He did not recall seeing it before. Ellen Holland met her at 2.30am at the corner of Osborn Street and Whitechapel High Street. By this time she was drunk and staggering. She told Ellen that she had earned her doss money three times that day and spent it. Ellen asked her to come back to Thrawl Street with her, but she refused.The next person to see her was her killer.
With Nichols’ murder following so closely after Martha Tabram’s, the press were quick to link both crimes to the same person and also threw in Emma Smith’s death for good measure. The murders of three women in such a small area of the East End did little to dispel this idea and public concern grew. A clothing manufacturer based in Spitalfields sent a newspaper cutting about Nichols’ murder to the Home Secretary, Henry Matthews, requesting that a reward be offered for the murderer’s capture. The Home Office responded, but only to point out that offering rewards for the capture of criminals ‘has for some time been discontinued’ and that they saw no reason to review this situation.
At this point Scotland Yard became involved, with the arrival of the man whose name became synonymous with the Ripper case: Inspector Frederick George Abberline. Aged 45, his modest and soft-spoken demeanour belied his years of experience. No photograph of him seems to have survived, but contemporaneous newspaper sketches portray him as a portly figure, balding but with a bushy moustache and sideburns. By the time of the murders he had worked for twenty-five years in the Metropolitan Police, nine of those (between 1878 and 1887) at H Division. His knowledge of Whitechapel, its inhabitants and its criminals made him the ideal candidate to coordinate the investigations between the divisions involved in the cases. He was so well thought of in the area that when he had transferred to Scotland Yard the previous year he had been honoured by Whitechapel citizens and ex-colleagues at a presentation dinner.
However, despite Abberline and H Division’s best efforts, no clue as to Mary Ann Nichols’ killer was uncovered. Several police officers searched the area, including nearby railway tracks and buildings, but no weapon or clue were