Jeremy Downes had been very busy earlier during the wee hours of the morning. The act of relieving those two women of their suffering had been such a liberating experience for him. Excitement surged in his veins with the thrill of it all as he was caught up in the fervor. Closing his eyes, he could see everything so very clearly that had happened. As the dawn arrived, since he was still awake, he had brewed a pot of coffee in the porcelain percolator. Now he was sitting at the table drinking the contents, emptying the pot while he relived the fascinating events over and over, both of the women in one night.
Later today, he would pick up one of the newspapers and find out that the names of the most recent ones were Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes. It seemed the papers couldn’t get enough of the macabre and the sensational.
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