Crimes of Passion : An Erotic Romance Story (2 page)

On the other side of the room, Stride and Eddowes were
quietly conversing in the corner, lighting up their fags, and scribbling pictures of naked women on used parchment, giving little regard to their weary old instructor.  McGint peered around the room, checked his pocket watch, and let out an exasperated sigh--- silently praying for the future of the justice system that would one day come to rest in the careless hands of these well-to-do degenerates. Murder investigations always created a buzz in the classroom, but once he began lecturing on theory their interest waned.
The sharks only come out to play when there is blood in the water.

“We
will conclude today’s lecture on the psychology of murder with this thought from former Chief Inspector of the London Metropolitan Police, Frederick Abberline--- the lead investigator in the White Chapel Murders. He writes, in regards to the Ripper, ‘True killers are born into darkness, while the rest are made in the shadows. Nothing of this world can cultivate such inherent evil.’ For our final discussion of the day: which of you gentleman will defend this theory?”

Professor McGint peered around the
lecture room, squinting through small lenses for an eager participant, but the young scholars failed to meet his gaze.  He banged his gavel once more.

“Again, I ask you gentlemen, do you believe in the notion that
there are people, like Jack the Ripper, who are born of pure evil?” No response---even Kelly was too engrossed in his studies. McGint raised his voice, “Edmund Stride.”

Stride choked on a puff of smoke
and then laughed, blowing the rest in McGint’s general direction before engaging him in a bout of slapstick dialogue.

“Sir?
”’

“Do you support the notion?”

Edmund nodded, playing the role of the class clown, “Certainly, your honor.”

“Very good,
please explain.”

“Explain w
hat?” Kelly looked to Stride with apparent distaste. Professor McGint was a former Justice of the Peace and commanded far more respect than he was given. Edmund Stride was a spoiled child.

“How do you support the notion?”
McGint asked once more, losing patience.

“What notion?” Eddowes and
Chapman laughed behind him.

An exasperated McGint
barked back in light of Stride’s oppositional defiance: “The notion that there are individuals who are born pure evil!”

“
Ahhhh,” Stride said, slapping his palm to his forehead, like the answer was being dangled right in front of him. “Of course sir,
that
notion. Well, then I suppose one could say that indeed Jack the Ripper
was
born inherently evil because he was created with tainted genes--- most likely he was the inbred son of a drunken society bastard and a filthy whore from White Chapel. Eventually he grew into a whore-hating sociopath, probably due to an unresolved Oedipal Complex--- despite his parents’ best efforts to send him to medical school. ”

McGint covered his eyes with his hands--- that was probably the most relevant analysis he would ever extract from Edmund Stride.
“A colorful, if not completely thought out answer Mr. Stride. Mr. Kelly, do you support Inspector Abberline’s notion?”

Kelly startled and looked
back up from his book. “Well… yes….and no…”

The gentlemen laughed.

“I mean--- in the biblical sense--- it was Eve who introduced sin into the world when she ate of the forbidden fruit. Cain and Abel were then born of Eve, and as we all know Cain committed the first homicide when he killed his brother. Thus
Cain
was intrinsically born of sin, born into darkness, so it is safe to conclude that
he
was born of pure evil. However, we are all descendants of Adam and Eve, all capable of the same sin, but that doesn’t make us killers.”

“So it’s
all the bitch’s fault.” Stride chimed.

“Language
, Mr. Stride. You’ve said your peace. And what of the shadows Mr. Kelly? What lurks in them that so greatly threatens our morality?”

“Greed, lust, envy, vengeance
, and the like. No murder comes without motive. The Ripper was most likely fueled by some pent up sexual frustration or an unspeakable hatred towards the fairer sex.”

The bell rang,
signifying the commencement of the lecture.  McGint checked his pocket watch to verify the time. “Well gents, that’s the hour. We will convene on Monday for more rousing discussion between Mr. Kelly and myself on the captivating psychology of homicide.”

McGint
swiftly gathered his belongings and exited the classroom, text in hand, leaving his wasted pupils to gather their effects.

“You chaps headed to the tavern tonight?” the brawny bloke Marcus Eddowes asked, extinguishing his cigarette on the side of his desk.

“Yes, everyone’s invited to tag along--- even you Kelly,” Edmund Stride laughed, throwing his satchel over his shoulder. “Although I’m not sure it’s really your cup of tea. Ether, Absinthe, cards, women, you’d probably find the whole thing dull and frivolous in comparison with your exhilarating studies.”

“I actually have a few
exams to prepare for,” Kelly said, quickly gathering his books and making his way towards the door.

“Oh come on
John, Stride’s just teasing you.  Besides, the rest of us would be honored to keep your company--- it won’t kill you to set aside your texts for one night. We can even talk about the investigation.” Avery Nichols said. He was the most noble and well-mannered gent in the bunch, and Kelly always looked to him as a true friend.

“Come on, it will be fun. Walk with us,” Chapman baited him.

“He’s right Kelly,” said Eddowes. “We’ll all be colleagues one day anyway.”

“
As you wish,” Kelly replied, stifling his indignation, mainly for Nichols’s sake.

Edmund Stride yielded to Kelly as he passed through the door.

The boys
gradually made their way down the snowy path towards the tavern. Nichols and Kelly followed close behind Stride, while Chapman and Eddowes wrestled playfully along the icy cobblestone.

Stride lit up another
smoke. “Have you ever been to Lancaster’s pub, Kelly?”

“Can’t say that I have,
” Kelly answered, watching his feet leave imprints in the freshly fallen snow.

“
It’s a truly extravagant place, with the most beautiful birds and the best vintage Absinthe this side of Paris.”

“I don’t drink.”
That was a lie, but Kelly wanted to keep it as a reasonable excuse, just in case he wanted to bow out of the camaraderie early.

Stride blew a puff of smoke into the air and slowed
his pace to match Nichols’s and Kelly’s. He threw his arm around Kelly’s shoulder and gave it a good smack. “That’s a wise decision John. I respect that. You’re always of the mind. On the bright side, you will certainly be on top of your game to satisfy those delectable birds we’ll be sampling later tonight--- you have made love to a woman before, haven’t you John?”

“No,
” Kelly said coolly---although he was mildly ashamed--- he didn’t need to give Edmund Stride another reason to ridicule him.

Nichols looked down at the ground and Eddowes hurled Chapman
to the pavement. They were both laughing at Kelly’s confession, and Eddowes extended his hand to his fallen brother. 

“Never Kelly?
Not one?! Are you fucking kidding me mate?! What are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Twenty-three,” Kelly replied.
“And no…I guess I just haven’t found the right one yet.”

Nichols patted his back, “That’s okay John.”

Chapman and Eddowes joined the group. Eddowes continued, “That is most certainly
not
okay.”

Stride pulled Kelly in closer
, as if he were about to reveal a great secret, “There is no such thing as the right one John. Women are simply one of many. We men are by nature predators--- driven mad by our carnal instincts. We don’t fit neatly into the institution of marriage which insists that we mate for life. So when it comes time for picking a wife, a wise man chooses a mild-mannered woman--- gentle and kind, perhaps a little on the naive side--- whom you can easily keep in line. Ideally she should have small breasts because they don’t sag over time, and a beautiful face--- after all, you’re going to be looking at it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Kelly was disgusted by Stride’s touch and attempted to pull away, Stride resisted. Kelly
interjected, “Wouldn’t you rather have a woman who challenges you, who’s intelligent and who speaks her mind?”

“Of course not Kelly, you must be d
aft! Do you know how difficult it is to sneak an affair past a woman with a mind?   That’s what mistresses are for. They are the great beauties who challenge you, with whom you can discuss ideas and philosophies and politics, they’re the kind of women you’d want to marry---if only that was in our design---and they have the most sensational tits. And the best part is, even if you get old and disgusting yourself, you can still pay a pretty dime for a beautiful woman’s company--- just like our pal Jackie.”

“The Ripper didn’t pay,” Chapman said. “He just fucked them from behind and slit their throats.”

“Now, now, Peter, weren’t you listening to the discussion? He fucked them from the
front
and slit their throats,” Eddowes jested.

“It appears as if neither of you were listening,” Nichols chimed in, “The original Ripper didn’t fuck his victims at all. He strangled them face on
then
slit their throats.”

Chapman paused. “
Well that’s not very romantic.”

“
Then why was there some chap’s sperm all over the crime scene?” Eddowes asked.

“That’s the
new
Ripper,” answered Kelly. “But it could’ve been left over from some other John.”

“Regardless, it’s still an extraordinary case,” Nichols replied.

Stride guffawed, tossing his cigarette to the roadside.
“Extraordinary? What’s so extraordinary about some homosexual psychopathic doctor hacking up a bunch of prostitutes?”

Chapman choked
in disbelief. “The Ripper’s a puff?”

“Of course he is. Who would kill five prostitutes without having sex with
one first? I would’ve at least my fill of each girl before I whacked them. What a waste of perfectly good orifices?”

Kelly cringed at the sound of Stride’s vulgarity. He was such a toxic human being
, and Kelly feared that too much time with Edmund Stride would rub off on him.

“I thought they found the girls with their skirts hiked up aro
und their middles on the ground,” Eddowes said.

“Well it’s kind of hard to cut out a uterus
through all of those ruffles. But they never found any semen at the crime scene,” Stride choked up on Kelly’s neck. “See old Jackie had it right--- he targeted the filthy underbelly of society. Whores and street urchins. Nobody’s going to miss them. He would’ve gotten away with it had he not been so damned theatrical. If you ask me, he did the world a favor.”

Nichols intervened. “That’s a dreadful thing to
say Edmund. Certainly no one’s transgressions are offensive enough to warrant such a senseless and violent end.”

“Well if you ask me, there’s nothing worse than a terrible blow job---.”

Kelly and Nichols shook their heads in disgust.

Stride continued, “But gentleman, back to the matter at hand. John, as one of your closest and dearest friends, I cannot imagine you going one day longer without bedding a woman---so we are going to play a little game: look around at all of the girls on this street. If you had to pick one to make passionate, animalistic love to, which would you choose?”

“
Bloody hell, I’d rather not play, Edmund,” Kelly said, tugging at his satchel.

“Oh come now John
, just pick one,” Chapman implored.

Kelly’s soft brown eyes scanned the crowd of women, until he set his gaze on a young beauty with golden curls, a gentle face, a soft pink pout, and a delicate frame. She wore a blue dress with white buttons down the front, and an ivory shawl to protect her from the bitter cold, and she carried a bundle of orange wild flowers--- the last shred of
beauty in the blistering winter. She was the type of fair maiden Kelly always envisioned himself ending up with--- innocent and pure.

“Her I suppose
,” Kelly uttered, pointing to the girl.

Eddowes and Chapman laughed, pounding Stride on the back.

“Excellent choice John,” Stride said with a devious grin, and he raised his arm to get the girl’s attention, “Addison!”

Kelly pulled back, embarrassed by the unwanted attention, but Stride held him in place. The girl came towards them, smiling at Edmund.

“Edmund, my darling, what a pleasant surprise. What are you all doing out?” Addison asked, as Edmund greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Kelly was awkwardly wedged between them.