Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 03.pdf/158

his throat cut. The bodies of Mrs. Marr and the apprentice, also killed in the same way, were lying in the centre of the shop floor. The wife had apparently been mur dered as she came upstairs, alarmed by the scuffle; the apprentice boy after some re sistance, for the whole counter and even ceil ing was sprinkled with his blood. Some one in the crowd suggested a search for the child. It was found in the kitchen, crushed and with its throat cut, the cradle beaten to pieces, and the bed-clothes piled over it. At this horrible aggravation of a hideous series of crimes, the spectators uttered a cry of hor ror. The servant-girl became speechless and delirious, and was carried away by the neighbors. The murderer must have worked with ter rible swiftness and sagacity. The watchman remembered that a little after twelve, finding some of Marr's shutters not quite secure, he called to him, and some one answered, " We know it" That must have been the mur derer. Not more than two guineas had been stolen from the house. An iron- headed mal let, such as ship-carpenters use, and with the initials J. P. on the handle, was left be hind by the. murderer. It was clear that the wretch must have stolen in, the moment the shutters were up and while the door was closing. He had glided in, first stealthily locking the door, and then asked to look at some unbleached cotton stockings. As Marr had turned to take these from a pigeon-hole behind the counter, the first blow must have been struck, for the stockings were found clinched in poor Marr's hands. The murder of the child seemed alone to prove that re venge had been the motive. During the next week many persons were arrested about Shadwell on suspicion of the murders, but they were all exonerated and discharged. A sailor, half crazed with drink, accused himself of the murders; but his in sanity was soon discovered. On the Sunday week the Marrs were buried; thirty thousand laboring and sea faring people watching the funeral, with faces of "horror and grief." All London was stricken with fear; fire-arms and thousands of rattles were purchased. There was a hor rible fear that the unknown monster, hav ing failed to secure plunder the first time, would attempt further crimes; the bravest man dreaded the approach of night. That dread was too well founded. On Thursday, the 19th of the same month, — only twelve nights after the Marr murder, and near the same place, — another butchery took place. It occurred at the King's Anns public-house, at the corner of New Gravel Lane, a small street running at right angles to Ratcliffe Highway. Mr. Williamson, a man of seventy, and his wife, kept the house. The other inmates were a middle-aged Irishwo man, who cleaned the pots and waited in the taproom; a little granddaughter, about four teen years old; and a young journeyman, aged about twenty-six, lodger. Mr. William son was a respectable man, always in the habit of turning out his guests at eleven o'clock, and finally shutting up at twelve, when the last neighbor had sent for his ale. Nothing particular happened in the house while it was open that night, except that some timid persons noticed a pale red-haired man, with ferocious eyes, who kept in dark corners, went in and out several times, and had been met wandering in the passages, much to the landlord's annoyance. When the guests had left, and the lodger had gone to bed on the second floor (the child being asleep on the first), Mr. William son was drawing beer on the ground floor, Mrs. Williamson was moving to and fro be tween the back kitchen and the parlor, the servant was cleaning the grate and placing wood for the morning. The lodger, nervous in bed and only able to doze, woke at half-past eleven, thinking of Mr. Williamson's wealth, the murder of the Marrs, and his landlord's carelessness about leaving his door open so late in a dangerous and ruffianly neighborhood. Suddenly he heard the street door below slammed and locked with tremendous violence. He leaped