several. The puzzle of the âprivateâ seen with Martha at 11:45 and the âprivateâ seen by P.C. Barrett at 2:00 A.M. nagged at Scotland Yard because he was seen so close to when and where Martha was murdered. Maybe he did it. Maybe he really was a soldier.
Or maybe he was a killer disguised as a soldier. What a brilliant bit of trickery that would have been. There were plenty of soldiers out on bank holiday night, and cruising for prostitutes was not an uncommon activity among military men. It may seem a stretch to consider that Jack the Ripper might have donned a soldierâs uniform and pasted on a fake mustache to commit his first murder, but this would not be the last time a mysterious man in uniform would be connected with a murder in Londonâs East End.
Walter Sickert was familiar with uniforms. Later, during World War I when he was painting battle scenes, he would admit to being especially âenchantedâ by French ones. âI have got my Belgian uniforms today,â he wrote in 1914. âThe artillery manâs forage cap with a little gold tassel is the sauciest thing in the world.â As a boy, Sickert frequently sketched men in uniforms and armor. As Mr. Nemo, the actor, his most critically acclaimed performance was in 1880, when he played a French soldier in Shakespeareâs Henry V. In 1887, Sickert completed a painting he titled It All Comes from Sticking to a Soldier âthe painting that depicts music-hall performer Ada Lundberg singing as she is surrounded by leering men.
Sickertâs interest in things military never waned throughout his life, and it was his habit to ask the Red Cross for the uniforms of soldiers who were disabled or dying. His motive, he said, was to outfit models for his military sketches and paintings. At one time, an acquaintance recalled, Sickertâs studio was piled with uniforms and rifles.
âI am doing a portrait of a dear dead man, a Colonel,â he wrote. He asked a friend to help him âborrow some uniforms from Belgians in hospital. One has a kind of distaste for using misfortunes to further oneâs own ends.â He didnât really. He admitted more than once to his âpurely selfish practice of life.â As he himself said, âI live entirely for my workâor as some people put it, for myself.â
It is surprising that the possibility of a Ripper who wore disguises hasnât been emphasized more or explored as a likely scenario, one that would surely help explain why he seemed to vanish without a trace after his crimes. A Ripper using disguises would also explain the variety of descriptions witnesses gave of the men supposedly last seen with the victims. The use of disguises by violent offenders is not uncommon. Men who dressed as police, soldiers, maintenance workers, deliverymen, servicemen, paramedics, and even clowns have been convicted of violent serial crimes, including sexual homicides. A disguise is a simple and effective way to gain access and lure the victim without resistance or suspicion, and to get away with robbery, rape, or murder. Disguises allow the perpetrator to return to the scene of the crime and watch the investigative drama or to attend the victimâs funeral.
A psychopath intent on murder uses any means to con a victim out of life. Eliciting trust before the kill is part of the psychopathâs script, and this requires acting, whether the person has ever stepped foot on a stage or not. When one has seen a psychopathâs victims, alive or dead, it is hard to call such an offender a person. To begin to understand Jack the Ripper one must understand psychopaths, and to understand is not necessarily to accept. What these people do is foreign to every fantasy and feeling most of us have ever experienced. All people have the capacity for evil, but psychopaths are not like all of us.
The psychiatric community defines psychopathy as an antisocial behavioral disorder, more