Murder in Whitechapel (The Judas Reflections) by Aiden James, Michelle Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

remained loyal to my secret.
    When Edward into stepped his shoes, he was similar to George in many ways and devoted to the core. Yet, unlike George, it didn’t feel right to confide the truth. I often wondered what would happen to them all if I were to take my leave from England. Perhaps an honorable intention on my part would be to secure them another position in a fine household, rather than leave them in dire straits. It would be a charitable thing to do and it would ease my conscience.
    The next morning produced little results. No one came and no letters or telegrams arrived. My impatience was bothersome, as I did not like or enjoy idleness. I remained resolute in my sense of urgency which resulted in calling for the carriage to take me forthwith to Roderick. I was intolerant to isolation; the centuries failing to diminish the yearning for company I would seek by whatever means necessary. This was one of the days I could not stand to be left alone.
    My driver, Donald, was a likeable chap. He had a wife and children in Aldgate, but took a live-in position with me, sacrificing family for finances. I had found out from Edward that Donald’s youngest daughter had been poorly. Being in my employ meant he could pay for her treatment and keep a roof over the head of his family, no matter what the sacrifice.
    Regardless of what Roderick thought, I was trying to put my house in order so to speak, helping others without reward, concerned for people’s welfare and still praying for redemption.
    The further we rode the more irritated I became. I was used to my existence being somewhat filled with adventure and intrigue, this experience becoming somewhat tedious and mundane. I needed excitement, a rush and a thrill. I banged loudly on the carriage, forcing a surprised Donald to a sudden stop.
    “Take a detour to Hyde Park, please, Donald.”
    It would be good to release some pent up frustrations and Hyde Park was the perfect location to do such a thing in relative safety. I was hoping to catch at least one religious speaker at what was known as Speakers Corner, long ago the site of Tyburn gallows where many executions took place going as far back as 1196. The reason for it now being a place to speak out in public on any subject was due to the condemned man once being allowed his final words before the hangman’s noose.
    It was no longer a hanging spot; instead it had turned into a hot bed of heated discussion and debate. It took a mere moment upon arrival in the park to find what I was looking for. A deeply religious man with a bible in his hand and a conviction of what he perceived as the absolute truth. “Jesus cometh, Jesus answered and said unto him except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God. Jesus cometh, he will be reborn,” he shouted.
    “Are you absolutely certain of that, good sir?” said I, loudly so all around could hear.
    He was standing on a small wooden box so as to be seen by all, surrounded by a small group of six people, myself included. He did not look kindly in my direction.
    “Jesus cometh. The end is nigh!” he proclaimed loudly.
    “Are you certain my good man? Perhaps Jesus will never return and what, sir, do you make of Judas Iscariot?” He quickly turned the well-thumbed pages of his bible, determined to answer my question.
    “That when Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he changed his mind and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, ‘I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.’ They answered, ‘What is that to us see to it yourself.’ And throwing down the pieces of silver into the temple, Judas departed, and went and hanged himself. Matthew twenty seven, verse three to five.”
    “But what if the bible is wrong and Judas Iscariot did not hang himself, then what?” I replied, determined to release my tension.
    “The devil was in the heart of Judas. He forced him to hang, to trap his soul in eternal