Echoes Of Albion: Urban Myth

[imported_Jack]

Did he really exsist? a series of murders made by the same person? Or was it just pure coincidence, a tale concocted and extended by the press? No one knew, not at the time anyway. And today its something that still lives with us even now...something that will never be forgotten...is he still out there, watching us?...


***

It was late afternoon in the lower sections of Coruscant City though it hardly seemed like it. The light rarely got to quarters so far down in the depths of the city and thus it was a world of dimmed darkness and shadow. Sitting at the desk of a posh (for these parts) looking lower Coruscant apartment, Frederick Anderson a local GP was a rather unnoticed, un unique chracter around these parts. He was nothing special and nothing out of the ordinary...except one thing at least. Anderson was a man who wore items of clothing, old style clothing, which consisted of a tall top hat, black in color ,with a dark grey liner around the brim. He also wore a heavy black coat which reached to the bottom of his ankles and was always buttoned to the tip of his white shirt collar which he folded outside of the coat . As an smart accessory he wore a dark red thick, broad cravat that vanished behind the coat buttons.

Thats what made him different and thats what made people laugh at him...

Dipping his quill into a red ink pot he started to write on a clean sheet of parchment and started to write upon its surface carefully and in a very neat hand.

Dear Sir' It began as it always did...


I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track.I am down on hoes and I shant quit ripping them till I do get found. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. You can never catch me. I will love my work and so will you soon. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I will save some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but i think it will go thick like glue and I wont b able to use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the you Watch just for jolly think. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck. And good hunting dear fellows


Yours truly
Jack the Ripper

PS:

Don't mind me giving the trade name

The dark figure smiled in the candle light, popped it into an envelope and addressed it 'Dear Boss' meaning the City Watch officer in charge, anyone. Perticuly, hopefully a woman. he would see tonight when the games started. It would start tonight...it really would...he was looking forward to it...he really was. The dark figure rised from his chair, swung on his dark jacket, drew on two white gloves and then looked at himself in the mirror. Quickly smartening himself up he grabbed his top hat and left the apartment...not to return till early the following morning.

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

No one else was around – what a surprise. It seemed every time she got settled down into the office everyone else disappeared. Letting a little snarl-like noise pass her lips, the lycanthropic Sergeant flicked something off of her desk onto the floor as a means of letting out a little anger.

“Er, sorry Sarge.”

The pen had hit a rookie, who’d just walked in through the door. HE stooped down and picked it up, placing it back onto the desk in front of him.

“Sorry to bother you Sergeant Burckharf,” the boy said, speaking as confidently as possible, “But a letters just come in. We think you should take a look at it.”

Extending a gloved hand, the junior watchman dropped an evidence back in front of Dirka. She scooped it up and frowned, extracting the piece of thick paper from the clear folder. It was yellow, worn and looked old. The scrawled red writing on the paper was incredibly difficult to read, but she got through it quick enough; eyes darting back and forth across the page.

“Why didn’t you take this to Commander Vymes?” she snapped without looking up. If there was one thing Dirka Burckharf was known for it was her fiery temper. Perhaps that was why most of the lower-ranking officers tended to avoid her.

“I… uh… though he would be busy, Sarge.”

Sighing deeply, she stood up and pushed past the inept watchmen into the hallway, making a beeline for Vymes office.

[Brielle Acaana]

Bri continued flipping through the pages of the folder, her focus torn between the words she was reading and the frustration that these documents had not already been transferred into the Watch's comp system. Her datapad was so much easier to handle than this thick, unweildy folder.

This doesnt make sense. Why would someone try to test for a reaction to the gas on the scene instead of calling Forensics to do it? That is what Im paid for!

Her progress down the narrow side corridor was cut short as a watchman stumbled out of Burckharf's door and straight into her path. The folder went skittering down the hall - without any of its former contents which were at this moment just finishing their brief flight through the air.

Dirka Burckharf gave the watchman another push as she stalked from her office, giving neither Brielle or the hapless beat-walker a second glance as they both stooped down to retrieve the pages.

"Sorry, Acaana. I didnt mean to bump into you."

Bri nodded. This wasnt the first time an incident like this had happened when Burckharf was around. The sergeant definitely had some issues. Being without some of the more basic manners was one of them.

"No harm done, Wi'tonn. It wasnt your fault."

Acaana's green eyes narrowed as Dirka barged into Commander Vymes' office.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Come on in, Sergeant."

Vymes didn't even look up. The way the door seemed to lurch of the hinges was enough for him. He chomped on his cigar a bit, glowering at a Rodian's mugshot on his desk. For a moment, he let her simmer, as he finished what he was doing. That, combined with the permanent atmosphere of cigar smoke would make her edgy. Vymes liked Sergeant Burckharf when she was edgy. That made her useful. All it took sometimes was knowing how to get people to work. Nobbei, you had to allow for a bit of slacking. Brielle, you had to know when to leave her alone. Everyone had their preference, whether they knew it or not. The good Sergeant just couldn't stay on top of things unless she was already half-cocked.

"One of these days, we're going to have to get a Rodian on the force. Its so hard to tell these perps apart."

Vymes spoke, mostly to himself. Eventually, he set the photos aside.

"Well?"

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

The evidence wallet slid onto Vymes desk, over the photos the Commander had been looking at.

“There’s been a murder, sir, and someone who we’re assuming is the killer – unless its someone who wants to go down in their place – has sent us this letter.”

Dirka folded her arms over her chest and sighed, somewhat irritated.

“It looks like a copycat killer, mimicking old horror stories.”

[Brielle Acaana]

Did Dirka think of making a copy of the letter, showing Vymes the copy while letting her have the original so that the forensics expert could go ahead and begin searching for clues?? Of course not! It was Dirka! Dirka - I have to do it my way - Burckharf.

The scowl deepened on Brielle's face as she nodded her thanks one more time to Wi'tonn, then moved on down the hall and stepped into her small lab.

Setting the papers and folders down on the counter, Acaana went through them all, page by page, restoring order to the chaos that Burckharf has caused moments earlier.

Brielle didnt like her. Hadnt from their first meeting. Dirka had transferred in from a different starionhouse and immediately started throwing her weight around.

By the Outer Rim, shes only a sergeant! Who doeas she think she is? She talks to the Commander like theyre equals!

That was something else that grated on Brielle's nerves. Vymes had earned his rank through sheer hard work and dedication and he deserved respect for that alone. Burckharf walked into his office whenever she felt like it, addressed him as 'Vymes' half the time and called most everyone else 'hey, you!'.

No, forensics specialist Brielle Acaana didnt care for Dirka Burckharf at all.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

Vymes tore himself away from the photos, and eyed the letter.

"Jack the Ripper, eh? Sounds like a bit of a spook story."

He glanced up at Burckharf, and shifted his cigar to the other side of his mouth.

"You run this by Brielle yet?"

[Sergeant Dirka Burckharf]

Her jaw tightened and she silently cursed herself for not having gone to Acaana sooner.

“No, sir. I’ll take it to her right away, sir.”

She turned out of the Commanders office without another word and emerged back into the hallway, where Brielle was still helping the rookie get back to his feet. Stalking forward a few paces she held out the letter.

“Acaana, Vymes wants you to look at this. It’s evidence in an important case, so don’t loose it or damage it,” she snapped.

[Brielle Acaana]

Brielle smirked.

She had heard Vymes question Dirka and it was obvious from the sergeant's reaction that his response had stung. Brielle hoped it stung for a good long time.

Holding out her hand, she took the envelope that had been rudely shoved toward her and smiled sweetly.

"I'll try my best not to let anything happen to it, Dirka"

Brielle's voice dripped honey and she chuckled silently as Burckharf's jaw tightened even more as the other woman turned and stalked out of the lab.

Later that morning right before lunch, Brielle knocked at Commander Vymes office, waiting for his voice to call her in. Glancing at the envelope which held the letter, Acaana wondered what he would say when she told him the results of the tests she had run on the letter.