On Sunday 30th September, the body of another prostitute, called Elizabeth Stride was discovered at about 1 am in Dutfield's Yard, inside the gateway of 40 Berner Street, Whitechapel. In this case, however, the body was not mutilated, it seemed as if the killer might have been interrupted, perhaps by Louis Diemschutz who found the body and later gave a full account of the events leading up to and in the immediate aftermath of his discovery of Elizabeth Stride's body.
A resident of 28 Berner Street. Following the murder of Elizabeth Stride, stated to the press:
Yes; I was one of those who first saw the murdered woman. It was about a quarter to one o'clock, I should think when I heard a policeman's whistleblowing and came down to see what was the matter. In the gateway, two or three people had collected, and when I got there I saw a short, dark young woman lying on the ground with a gash between four and five inches long in her throat. I should say she was from 25 to 28 years of age. Her head was towards the north wall, against which she was lying. She had a black dress on, with a bunch of flowers pinned on the breast. In her hand, there was a little piece of paper containing five or six cachuses. The body was found by a man whose name I do not know - a man who goes out with a pony and barrow, and lives up the archway, where he was going, I believe, to put up his barrow on coming home from the market. He thought it was his wife at first, but when he found her safe at home he got a candle and found this woman. He never touched it till the doctors had been sent for.
The little gate is always open, or, at all events, always unfastened. There are some stables up there - Messrs. Duncan, Woollatt, and Co.'s, I believe and there is a place to which a lot of girls take home sacks which they have been engaged in making. None of them would be there, though, after about one on Saturday afternoon. None of us recognised the woman, and I do not think she belonged to this neighbourhood. She was dressed very respectably. There seemed to be no wounds on the body.
Although initially, this letter was considered to be hoax letters the discovery of the body of Catherine Eddowes in Mitre Square with her missing ear gave another opinion to the author's promise within the letter to "clip the lady's ears off"
Not much is known about her, the police were only able to take information from testimonies of the general public who knew her and public records but none of the information was ever verified. Stride was born as Elisabeth Gustafsdotter on 27th November 1843 in Stora Tumlehed, a rural village within the parish of Torslanda, west of Gothenburg, Sweden. She was the second of four children born to Swedish farmer, Gustaf Ericsson, and his wife Beata Carlsdotter. As a child, Gustafsdotter lived on this village farm. All four children were raised in the Lutheran faith, and all were required to perform numerous chores on the farm. In February 1866, Gustafsdotter moved from Gothenburg to London. She told her friends two different reasons for this, one of them was to work as the domestic servant of "a gentleman" who lived near Hyde Park; And the other one is that she had visited relatives in London, but living in such poor condition back at home made her choose to remain in England. She likely funded the trip with the 65 krona she inherited after the death of her mother in August 1864, which she had received in late 1865. Upon her arrival in London, Gusdafsdotter learned to speak both English and Yiddish, in addition to her native Swedish. She is also known to have briefly dated a policeman in the late 1860s.
Elizabeth married John Stride on March 7, 1869, at the age of 26. They moved to East India Dock road. The two operated a coffee shop together on Poplar, moving from their first location to another one on the same street. In 1875, the business was taken over by a man named John Dale. Little is known about the Strides' marriage aside from their co-ownership of the coffee shop. Kidney said that Elizabeth claimed to have given birth to nine children in her life, but there are no surviving records of the children born from the Strides' marriage.
In 1878, a saloon steamship called Princess Alice crashed into the Bywell Castle steamer on the Thames River. Between 600 and 700 people were killed in the disaster. When asking for financial assistance at the Swedish Church in 1878, Stride claimed that the accident had killed her husband and children and that she had also suffered an injury to her palate while struggling to escape. Although She even reported that, she used to tell people that her kids also died in that tragic incident. Investigators have determined that this was a complete fabrication, though; in fact, John Stride was alive and well in 1878 and did not pass away until dying of heart disease in 1884. This lie would lead investigators to believe that Elizabeth was having troubles in her marriage that eventually led to a separation from her husband. In that case, she used the Princess Alice story, just to cover up her separation and to garner more sympathy so that the church would give her more money. The last time Elizabeth was listed in a census as living with her husband was 1881, but after that, they no longer lived together. On 24 October 1884, John Stride died of tuberculosis in the Poplar and Stepney Sick Asylum.
In addition to prostitution, Stride occasionally earned income from sewing and housecleaning. An acquaintance described her as having a calm temperament, though she appeared before the Thames Magistrates' Court on approximately eight occasions for both drunk and disorderly conduct and the use of obscene language. Occasionally, Stride used the alias Annie Fitzgerald at these hearings. Her relationship with Kidney continued in an on-and-off manner between 1885 and 1888. Following an argument, on 26 September 1888, Stride and Kidney again separated, and she again took residence at 32 Flower and Dean Street, informing a fellow lodger named Catherine Lane that she and Kidney "had had a few words".Over the following days, she regularly earned money by performing cleaning duties, both at the lodging house and for residents, being observed by the housekeeper, Elizabeth Tanner, to be a quiet woman who occasionally performed cleaning work for the local Jewish community.
Elizabeth, or "Long Liz'', Stride spent the last afternoon of her life cleaning rooms in the lodging house at number 32 Flower and Dean Street, where she had lived on and off for the previous six years. The deputy keeper, Elizabeth Tanner, paid her sixpence for the chores she had done. She then left and at about or during 6.30 pm Elizabeth was slaking her thirst in the nearby Queen's Head pub at the junction of Fashion and Commercial Streets. By 7 pm she had returned to the lodging house, and was, according to fellow resident Charles Preston - from whom she borrowed a clothes brush - dressed "ready to go out." It rained heavily that night and the next sighting of her was at eleven o'clock when J. Best and John Gardner saw her.
The first doctor to arrive at the scene was Frederick William Blackwell. Police surgeon Dr George Bagster Phillips, who had examined the body of previous Whitechapel murder victim Annie Chapman, arrived about 10 minutes later.The next day The Star published a statement Dr Blackwell had made to the press:
"At about ten minutes past one I was called to 40, Berner-street by a policeman, where I found a woman who had been murdered. Her head had been almost severed from her body. She could not have been dead more than twenty minutes, the body being perfectly warm. The woman did not appear to be a Jewess, but more like an Irishwoman. I roughly examined her and found no other injuries, but this I cannot state until I have made a further investigation of the body. She had on a black velvet jacket and a black dress of different materials. In her hand she held a box of cachous, whilst pinned in her dress was a flower. I should say that as the woman had held sweets in her left hand her head was dragged back using a silk handkerchief she wore around her neck, and her throat was then cut. One of her hands, too, was smeared with blood, so she may have used this in her rapid struggle. I do not doubt that with the woman's windpipe being completely cut through, she was unable to make any sound. I might say it does not follow that the murderer would be bespattered with blood, for as he is sufficiently cunning in other things he could contrive to avoid coming in contact with the blood by reaching well forward."
Police searched the crime scene and interrogated everyone who had been at the International Working Men's Educational Club, as well as all residents of the area.
Israel Schwartz told investigators that he had seen Stride being attacked outside Dutfield's Yard at approximately 12:45 a.m. by a man with dark hair, a small brown moustache and approximately 5 feet 5 inches in height. According to Schwartz, this man attempted to pull Stride onto the street before turning her around and shoving her to the ground. As Schwartz had observed this assault, Stride's assailant shouted the word "Lipski" either to Schwartz himself or to a second man who had exited the club amidst this altercation and lit a pipe. Schwartz did not testify at the inquest on Stride, possibly because he was of Hungarian descent and spoke very little, if any, English. At approximately the same time, Stride was seen by James Brown rejecting the advances of a stoutish man slightly taller than her in the adjacent street to Berner Street. A note in the margin of the Home Office files on the case points out that there was sufficient time for Stride to meet another individual between her death and the latest sightings of her.
No money was found on or near Stride's body. This indicated that her money could have been taken during or after the altercation witnessed by Israel Schwartz, or by her murderer if it were not the same person. It seemed she had willingly entered Dutfield's Yard and had either encountered her murderer within or had walked there with the person before being attacked.
Mrs Fanny Mortimer, who lived two doors away from the club, had stood in Berner Street to listen to the communal singing at about the time Stride had been murdered, but had not seen anyone entering the yard or heard anything amiss. Mortimer did see a man with a shiny black bag race past, and this was reported widely in the press. However, one of the club's members, Leon Goldstein, identified himself as the man Mortimer had seen and he was soon eliminated from the inquiry.
But there was something rather unusual about this day. Possibly because, the murderer could not finish the job with Elizabeth Stride. The killer was not satisfied, and since his hunger was not met, he killed another one. The same day at 1:45 am Catherine Eddowes's mutilated body was found by PC Edward Watkins at the southwest corner of Mitre Square, in the City of London, about 12 minutes walk from Berner Street.
Earlier in the night of the 29th, PC 881 Edward Watkins of the City Police had just been informed by his beat Sergeant to work left-handed. With 17 years of experience, Watkins fully understood this request. In order to throw criminals and prostitutes out of track who may have been timing and watching a Policeman's beat, beat constables were sometimes ordered to work left-handed. This meant that instead of his usual right turns, Watkins had to make left turns. The beat constable had no prior warning of this until he was just about to go on patrol. So, once instructed and noted on the list by the beat Sergeant, Watkins stepped out into that chilly night of September 29th 1888 fully equipped with his Bulls-eye lantern on and fixed to his belt. Starting near the St James Place entrance of Duke Street, he patrolled briefly north, towards Bevis Marks, before turning left into Heneage Lane. Strolling down the Lane at the regulation 2 and a half miles per hour, Watkins would have been on the lookout for anything suspicious. Checking the many shops and dwellings were secure before turning left onto Bury Street. Barely had he joined this street before he took a right into Creechurch Lane. Just before coming to the Church of St Katherine Cree he would have paid particular attention to the recently constructed warehouses on his left. Upon passing the church Watkins took another turn left into the far wider and brightly lit Leadenhall Street. Again, as he walked, he would be checking the offices and shops in the street and eyeing any loiterers as he passed the Aldgate pump. After taking a glance up Aldgate, Watkins then turned sharply left into Mitre Street. Passing No 40 Mitre Street, the sailcloth-making premises of Andrew Lowson as he went on his way, he would then pass by Copeland & Co, Oil and Provision Merchants of No 4 on his right. George Clapp, the care keeper at No 5 Mitre Street was on the premises along with his ill wife and her nurse as Watkins strolled by, continuing past the empty cottage and coffee rooms at numbers 6-7 and reaching the picture frame shop at 8-9 Mitre Street. The PC was now approaching Mitre Square upon his right.
Just before he edged around the picture frame-making shop belonging to Mr Charles Taylor, Watkins looked briefly up and down Mitre Street. Then he entered Mitre Square, checking that Mr Taylor's side door was still locked as he passed. Turning to the right and skirting his way around this dim place, he had checked that the back of the shop was secure as well as perhaps checking that the shutters were fastened. He was now in the darkest corner of Mitre square and no doubt he would have had his Bullseye lantern on and open as he checked the wooded gate of the Heydemann and Co storage yard. Maybe Watkins cast a glance up at the back window of 5 Mitre Street Co, where George Clapp would soon be retiring to bed in almost an hour. Next to the Heydemann & Co yard stood one of the four large warehouses that dominated the square, the warehouse of Horner & Co, Chemical Goods Sundriesmen. Watkins patrolled slowly along this building, again checking the entrance and then the loading bay doors before arriving at Church passage. This passage started wide in Mitre Square but narrowed dramatically from 18 feet to only 5 feet in no space at all. If Watkins were to walk along the passage he would have ended up on Duke Street. However, Watkins would have been fully aware that the security of this passage belonged to fellow beat Officer City PC 964 James Harvey. A brief look up the passage, as he stood almost under the gas lamp, he then would turn left.
Watkins' beat now brought him to the second warehouse in the square. The Kearley & Tonge warehouse and counting house were a mixture of storage and office space. Another large structure, it was one of two buildings Kearley & Tonge, wholesale grocers had in the square. As Watkins came to the entrance of this warehouse he would on any other night, between the hours of 1 and 2 am, have stopped to speak to the warehouse night watchman and ex-Metropolitan Police Constable George James Morris. This was not an unusual occurrence. It would have been part of Watkins's duty to know the night watchmen on his beat just in case he was needed. In return, the Nightwatchman became the Constable's eyes and ears when the beat PC was not in the area. There would have been periods in the beat when the Policeman and Nightwatchman liaised and discussed if anything untoward had happened whilst the Constable completed his beat, maybe over a pipe or cuppa. Watkins had certainly on previous occasions spoken to Morris. However, tonight was the only night in the week this didn't happen; due to the fact, Morris had other duties to perform deep within the bowels of the warehouse and in the counting-house area. Noting Morris wasn't at his usual spot at the door, Watkins carried on checking the small doorway next to Kearley & Tongues that led to the covered rear yard of Philips & Bisiker, Builders. Watkins was now at the Mitre Square end of St James Passage. At the other end of which was St James place. Two bollards at Mitre Square end of the passage stopped the stallholders using this passage as a shortcut as they pushed their carts into St James place. A lamp stood at St James Place the end of the passage and lit the southern side of the Orange Market during the dark hours. Sometimes Watkins continued his beat via this passage, however this time he carried on. Passing some railings situated in front of the second and larger of the Kearley & Tonge warehouses. Outside this warehouse stood the only freestanding gas lamp in Mitre Square. This lamp was deficient. Either the gas supplied to the lamp was of poor quality or the lamp, its fittings or piping was damaged. Whatever the problem was, this lamp was not working to its full capacity, therefore making the Square darker than usual. It was Watkins's duty to report such findings, one assumes upon return from his beat or to the beat Sergeant who regularly made spot checks during a beat, whichever came first. So, in all likelihood, once he got to this spot PC Watkins would have stopped here briefly and noted in his notebook that this lamp was not working fully.
Next, the conscientious PC Watkins had checked the gate of the Kearley & Tonge warehouse, maybe even noting that such action wasn't entirely necessary – for night watchman George Morris was known to guard his manor with zeal. Only a few weeks before Morris had had a man arrested for taking an empty champagne case that had been left outside the Kearley & Tonge premises. The sight of such packing cases and wooden pallets gathered behind the railings of the adjoining building and conveniently close to the hoisting area of the Kearley & Tonge warehouse, may have made Watkins recall the incident but we will never know. The building itself, 4, Mitre Square, was one of four similar houses built in the early part of the century when Mitre Square could still boast a Church. Now only two were left: the empty and dilapidated No 4 that adjoined Kearley & Tonge, and, in the far corner, No 3, tenanted by Police Constable Richard Pearce and family. It was, at that moment in 1888, the only inhabited building in Mitre Square. PC Pearce was off duty and no doubt was relaxing with some well-earned family time as Watkins made his last left turn in the square. This brought him to the final warehouse of Williams & Co. Another big building, but not as large as those belonging to Messers Horner, Kearley & Tonge, this formed the southwestern side of Mitre Square. Watkins would now leave the Square and head back into Mitre Street, returning some 12 to 14 minutes later.
Once back in Mitre Street, Watkins proceeded towards King Street. A right turn into the street and within no time he would have stood to parallel with Sugar Bakers Yard. Continuing on he would have passed and listened carefully to the revellers at The Old Jewellery Mart Public House, just in case there was a commotion that may have required him to deal with. Watkins would then come to St James Place, described by Henry Mayhew as "a large square yard, with the iron gates of a synagogue in one corner… and a gas lamp on a circular pavement at the centre. The place … is quiet and dirty." Also, in the middle of the open place stood a public convenience and a manned Fire Station made of wood. However, at the time a new station was being erected. This may have some connection with the road works being conducted that night, road works that James Blenkingsopp was the night watchman for. After manoeuvring around the place PC Edward Watkins would have exited and returned to Duke Street. He would then go on to conduct another 13 patrols that night, all without any concern.
At around 1.44 am, Watkins entered Mitre Square from Mitre Street. Turning right, he approached the darkest corner of the Square. He had his Bulls-eye lamp open and fixed to his belt. As he continued he saw in the corner created by Heydemann's Yard and the empty cottages the prone body of Catherine Eddowes.
Eddowes was lying on her back in a pool of blood, with her clothes thrown up over her waist.
Racing across the square Watkins burst into Kearley and Tonge's warehouse where he knew his old colleague, now a retired policeman, George Morris, was working as a night watchman. "For God's sake mate," cried Watkins "come to my assistance…here is another woman cut to pieces."
Pausing to get his lamp, the night watchman followed Watkins to the square's southwest corner, took one look at the body, and raced off along Mitre Street towards Aldgate, blowing furiously on his whistle as he ran.
Beginning his beat at 9.45 pm, on 29th September 1888, PC Harvey was out on the street patrolling. At approximately 1.40 am, 30th September 1888, PC Harvey walked from Duke Street down Church Passage as far as Mitre Square. He saw no one and heard no cry or noise. When he got to Aldgate he heard a whistle blown and saw Retired policeman George Morris with a lamp. On asking what was the matter, Morris told Harvey that "a woman has been ripped up in Mitre Square".
As they took off for the murder site, PC Harvey saw PC Holland across the street and asked him to accompany him to Mitre Square. On arriving they found PC Edward Watkins with the body of Catherine Eddowes and PC Holland was immediately sent to get Dr George Sequeira. Private individuals were sent to fetch other police officers including Inspector Edward Collard, whilst Harvey waited with Watkins at the scene.
Sequeira reached the scene at about 1.55 am and later gave an inquest that the place where the murder had occurred was probably the darkest part of Mitre Square, although there had certainly been enough light for the miscreant to perpetrate the deed.
Death, he said, would have been instantaneous once the murderer had cut the windpipe and the blood vessels. He had a different opinion about the perpetrator that he possessed no great anatomical skill, He concluded that the murderer only had a basic knowledge of anatomy. And when the Coroner asked him if he would have expected the murderer to be spattered with blood, He replied "Not necessarily."
As I read about him at the inquest I grew a bit suspicious of Dr Sequeira. Unlike other doctors only he had a separate thought on the anatomical expertise of the killer. Secondly, he didn't want to touch the corpse for some reason. He waited at the scene for the arrival of City Police Divisional Surgeon, Dr Frederick Gordon Brown.
Meanwhile, police officers were converging on Mitre Square from all over the City. Inspector Edward Collard arrived from Bishopsgate Police Station and ordered an immediate search of the neighbourhood instructing that door-to-door inquiries were to be made of the area around Mitre Square. Next on the scene was Superintendent James McWilliam, head of the City Police Detective Department, who arrived with several detectives, all of whom he sent off to make a thorough search of the Spitalfields streets and lodging houses.
As the officers began to fan out through the streets several men were stopped and questioned but to no avail. The killer, it appeared, had simply melted away into the night.
The killer may have made his escape through the adjacent St James's Place where there was a Metropolitan Fire Escape Station. Yet the firemen on duty never saw or heard anything. Neither had City Police Constable Richard Pearse who lived at number 3 Mitre Square, where his bedroom window looked across at the murder site.
George Morris, the night watchman, whose whistle had first alerted the police at large to the atrocity, expressed himself as baffled as to how such a brutal crime could have been committed close by, without him hearing a sound.
As the Illustrated Police News reported:-
...He could hear the footsteps of the policeman as he passed on his beat every quarter of an hour so that it appeared impossible that the woman could have uttered any sound without his detecting it. It was only on the night that he remarked to some policeman that he wished the "butcher" would come round Mitre Square and he would give him a doing; yet the
"butcher" had come and he was perfectly ignorant of it."
What's even stranger is that at the moment Catherine Eddowes and her murderer reached Mitre Square, three city detectives, Daniel Halse, Robert Outram and Edward Marriot, were busy organizing plainclothes patrols on the eastern edge of the city. However, the murderer managed to pass them undetected, and then returned to the streets of the East Side. Shortly before 2 am, Halse was at St Botolph Church when he learned of the murder. He rushed to Mittel Square and instructed the police present to search the vicinity.
Halse then began his search, first heading to Middlesex Street, from where he turned to Wentworth Street, where he stopped to question the two men. However, both of them were able to explain their actions to him satisfactorily, and he allowed them to move on. Then he passed Gulston Street at about 2:20 in the morning, where he did not notice anything strange, and then returned to Mittel Square. There, he found that the body had been moved to the Golden Lane morgue.
Based on the accounts of her friends and family, Kate was well-liked. Old friends described her as an "intelligent, scholarly woman, but of fiery temperament." Frederick Wilson, the deputy of Cooney's Lodging House, described her as a "very jolly woman, always singing", which seemed to be corroborated by George Hutt's experience with her in the jailhouse. Her family moved from the countryside to London in 1848, where she was educated at St. John's Charity School until her mother died in 1855. Some newspaper accounts claimed that both of Catherine's parents died in 1851. In any case, after she was orphaned, she moved to Bison Street in Wolverhampton where she attended Dowgate Charity School.
Eddowes was about 21 and living in Wolverhampton when she met and became involved with a man named Thomas Conway. He was a military pensioner from the 18th Royal Irish Regiment. Not too much is known of their life together, but it is believed that they made their money in Birmingham selling cheap novels as well as writing popular songs called "gallows ballads." They never married, but did live together for about 20 years and had three children in 1865, 1868 and 1873, two boys and a girl named Annie. A tattoo found on Eddowes' arm reading "TC" was believed to represent Conway's initials and was very helpful when her body had to be identified later on. In 1881, the couple split, according to Annie Phillips, "entirely on account of her drinking habits." Conway was a teetotaler, according to his daughter, while Kate was in the habit of drinking excessively. Eventually, the conflict became too great, and Eddowes moved into Cooney's Lodging House at 55 Flower and Dean Street. Annie soon married and moved in with her husband, Louis Phillips. She spent the next several years moving from one place to the other in an attempt to avoid her mother's "scrounging" and asking for money.
While staying at Cooney's, Catherine met an Irishman named John Kelly, who worked in the markets, often for one of the local fruit vendors. The two were close for the next seven years until police found Eddowes' body in Mitre Square. Taking on the surname of one's partner, even if the marriage had not officially taken place, was a common practice for lower-class women at the time. Catherine, therefore, was also known as Kate Kelly.
Late summer in England was the hop-picking season when many of the poor would go to the countryside to find work collecting the hops that would be used by nearby breweries. John Kelly and Catherine Eddowes went to the countryside for the hop-picking season in 1888, which they had done for the previous several years. Having little success getting work and with no money for a ride, the two struck out for London on foot.
On the road, they came across a man and a woman. The woman offered Eddowes a pawn ticket she had for a flannel shirt. The woman's name was Emily Birrell, and the pawn ticket would be found on Eddowes' person in Mitre Square.
On September 29th, John and Kate arrived back in London. Having no money when they got to the city, John managed to earn 6d so they could get lodging for the night. A bed at their usual lodging house, Cooney's, was 4d, so Kate volunteered to take the remaining 2d and sleep in the casual ward that night.
When interviewed, a superintendent of the casual ward reported that Eddowes had said, "I have come back to earn the reward offered for the apprehension of the Whitechapel murderer. I think I know him." He warned her to watch out or the killer might murder her too, to which she replied, "Oh, no fear of that."
This story was not corroborated by anyone else and could well have been a complete fabrication, but the quote added to the sensationalism of and public reaction to the coming double homicide. The following morning of September 29th, Kate was kicked out of the casual ward for an unknown reason, never to return.
They met at 8 am near Cooney's Lodging House, and Kate took a pair of Kelly's boots to a pawnbroker on Church Street named Jones. She pawned the boots under the name of "Jane Kelly" for the price of a meal. Frederick Wilkinson saw Eddowes and Kelly later, between 10 and 11 am, having breakfast in Cooney's kitchen. Still completely broke, the hunt began for money for food and lodging for the rest of the day.
Eddowes told Kelly that she would try to get some money from her daughter, Annie. Kelly was worried about separating from her and reminded her of the killer. The two parted in Houndsditch and she would be home no later than 4 pm. "Don't you fear for me? I'll take care of myself and I shan't fall into his hands," were her parting words to him. Nobody is quite sure what happened between the time they parted and the time that PC Robinson found Eddowes lying drunk on Aldgate Street. John Kelly would not see her again alive. A mustard tin containing two pawn tickets issued to Emily Birrell and Anne Kelly was discovered among Eddowes's possessions. These eventually led to her identification by John Kelly as his common-law wife, after he read about the tickets in the newspapers. His identification was confirmed by Catherine Eddowes's sister, Eliza Gold.
At 3 am a blood-stained fragment of Eddowes's apron was found lying in the passage of the doorway leading to 108 to 119 Goulston Street, Whitechapel, about a third of a mile from the murder scene. At the doorway, there was a message, "The Jews are the men that will not be blamed for nothing".Clearly the killer,had some issues with the Jews. At 5 am, Commissioner Warren attended the scene and ordered the words erased for fear that they would spark anti-Semitic riots.
Goulston Street was on a direct route from Mitre Square to Flower and Dean Street, where both Stride and Eddowes lived.
A Middlesex coroner, Wynne Baxter, believed that Stride had been attacked with a swift, sudden action. She was still holding a packet of cachous in her left hand when she was discovered, indicating that she had not had time to defend herself. A grocer called Matthew Packer told the detectives of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee that he sold grapes to Stride and there was a man with her. Packer's description of the man did not match the statements by other witnesses who may have seen Stride with a man shortly before her murder, but all but two of the descriptions differed. Its possible that the man was just a commoner, not the killer. Nevertheless, Packer's story appeared in the press. Joseph Lawende was a Polish-born British cigarette salesman. In the early morning hours of 30 September 1888, two murders attributed to Jack the Ripper took place.
The house-to-house inquiry led the police to three key eyewitnesses. Lawende and two Jewish companions, Joseph Hyam Levy, a butcher, and Henry Harris, a furniture dealer, attended the Imperial Club in Duke's Place. They were delayed from leaving by rain. After the rain subsided, they left just after 1:30 a.m., the time having been checked by the club clock and by Lawende's pocket watch. They began to walk along Duke Street towards Aldgate. About fifteen yards from the club, at the narrow entrance to Church Passage, which led to Mitre Square, they saw a man and a woman talking quietly. The woman had her hand on the man's chest. Lawende would later identify the woman as Eddowes by her clothing when he was later shown her clothing at the mortuary.
Lawende walked slightly apart from his two friends and was the only one to take any notice of the man's appearance, having glanced at him briefly. He described the man as being of average build and looking rather like a sailor, wearing a pepper-and-salt-coloured loose-fitting jacket, a grey cloth cap with a matching peak, and a reddish neckerchief. Lawende said that the man was aged about 30, with a fair complexion and moustache, being about 5 ft 7-8 inches tall. He did not believe he would be able to identify the man again. Chief Inspector Swanson noted that Lawende's description was a near match to another provided by one of the witnesses who may have seen Stride with her murderer.
Major Henry Smith, acting Commissioner of the City Police, claimed in his memoirs, that while searching in the nearby area,he had discovered bloodied water in a public sink in a court off Dorset Street, and as the water was slowly running out of the basin, he calculated that the Ripper had been there only moments before.
Her friends and family members were adamant that Kate was not a prostitute, and that she made her money from doing honourable jobs such as hawking and doing odd jobs around town. The Cooney house deputy, Frederick Wilkinson told the police that he, "never knew of her being intimate with anyone but Kelly" and that she was usually home and to bed by nine or ten in the evening. It is very unlikely, though, that anyone in Catherine's life would wish to speak ill of the dead. On the other hand, it is likely that Eddowes, like Annie Chapman, had engaged in prostitution from time to time when she needed the money.
At 12.30 am on 1st October 1888, PC Drage was on fixed point duty on Whitechapel Road opposite Great Garden Street. He saw Thomas Coram stooping down in a doorway opposite 253 Whitechapel Road and as he approached, Coram stood up and beckoned him over; he said "Policeman, there is a knife down here."
Drage picked up the knife and saw that it was smothered with dried blood and that a blood-stained handkerchief had been tied around the handle with string. On being asked how he came upon the knife, Coram replied that he was looking down when he caught sight of something white. Drage took down his details and the two went, with the knife, to Leman Street Police Station.
PC Drage had not seen the knife previously, despite having passed the spot continually. A little earlier, a horse had fallen nearby and he had helped to lift it to its feet. He said the knife might have been deposited at this time. He could not be sure if the knife had been there fifteen minutes previously, but was sure it had not been there an hour before as he had seen the landlady of the premises let a woman out and it would most certainly have been seen then.
He passed the knife to Dr George Bagster Phillips later that afternoon, who declared that it was unlikely to be the instrument used on Elizabeth Stride.
Later that day, a postcard, dubbed the "Saucy Jacky" postcard and signed "Jack the Ripper", was received by the Central News Agency. It claimed responsibility for Stride's and Eddowes's murders and described the killing of the two women as the "double event", a designation which has endured. The text of the postcard reads:
I was not codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip, you'll hear about Saucy Jacky's work tomorrow's double event this time number one squealed a bit and couldn't finish straight off. Had no time to get ears off for the police, thanks for keeping the last letter back till I got to work again.
Jack the Ripper