TITLE: A Rip in Time
GENRE: Mystery/Romantic Historical Time Travel
Modern America's CSI meets Victorian England's JACK THE RIPPER. Rachael and Alex time travel to 1888 to identify the Ripper and risk becoming become Jack's next victims.
Whitechapel District, London, England
August 7, 1888
Martha Tabram rubbed her aching temples. The pain wasn't from cheap gin. Too many years patronizing the Ten Bells Tavern had increased her tolerance. Besides, she needed drink to file off the sharp edges of her hopeless existence.
Afternoon rains had set a chill to the air and the night's shadows deepened. She trudged, head down, hugging the building's soot encrusted brick wall.
Three lads staggered toward her along the stone pavement. The young men were likely on a weekend bender and locals by the looks of their worn clothes.
Martha's heartbeat quickened as her mind flashed back to her friend, Emma Smith. Four months ago, young men, thugs from the Old Nichols Street Gang, had robbed, assaulted, and killed poor Emma.
Now, these lads elbowed each other, pointed at Martha, and leered. Their bodies soaked the air with cheap whiskey. They descended upon her. One boy whooped and grabbed her skirt, but she broke free and ran. The cruel trio swaggered on their way, howling at their prank.
One yelled back, "Old cow."
She stopped and clutched her chest. Dirty sods! Men like that should hang, their boot heels swinging like bells in the Thames' foul breeze. Emma's death was horrible, but Martha's gut told her worse was on the way for penniless Londoners. East End women would suffer more than the usual amount of violence. And greater numbers of murders.
If she stayed sober, stayed aware, she might stay alive. Martha paused and pressed her lips together. What had she to live for? Her husband left years ago and her grown children had abandoned her too. She waved her hand to swat away the thoughts. The squalid life present gave her the right to drink away the past.
Death was a constant companion in Whitechapel. The thought sent a shiver slithering down to coil in her stomach.