Entry 1

Father told me that writing in this diary might curb my urge to keep sneaking into the newspaper office to try and publish yet another one of my stories. He thinks they’re all codswallop, even though I’ve done quite a bit of research and even took the time to chat up a few people here and there to get quotes. Of course he refuses to print any of them in the Mail, mostly likely because of the fact that I am a woman and according to him writing for a newspaper “Is not a respectable career for a lady of your bearing.”

Of what he thinks, I could care less. Writing stories is what I do best. I started with poetry and fictional pieces, fairytales really. But when I discovered how much I enjoyed talking to people and seeing how the boys like James write stories about all of the important things going on in London, how could I resist? Of course, James helps me sneak my writing in anyway. He’s my best friend I’ve had in my life.

While Father was busy doing business for the Mail, James would let me help him edit some of the stories he was working on. He taught me how to write in the way reporters do and promised that when I was old enough he would help me get them published. We devised nom de plumes in order to avoid father’s notice.

James is a brother to me; he is caring, loyal, and doesn’t mind getting into a bit of trouble to help me.

Entry 2

Everyone at the Mail is acting as if the place has been set ablaze. Tonight is the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. I’m attending with Father as he was Knighted for his service in the First Boer War.

I am wondering however if someone else I know is going to be in attendance - Vivienne. Her father is the Ambassador to France and our families know each other because our fathers served together in the War. I haven’t spoken to Vivi in several weeks, and I hope to see her tonight. I must cut this entry short as I have to dress for this evening. Father is sending the carriage at 7 to collect me.

Entry 3

Vivienne was absent from the Jubilee. No one could say they had seen her recently. Even though we have our differences, Vivienne and I are very close friends. Some said we were like sisters with the way we stuck together so often. Others joked that she and I were two sides of the same coin, always together even though we were opposites in every respect. Where I was always up for a bit of a lark, Vivi was the prim and proper lady. Vivienne of course being the older, prettier one, with her high cheekbones and elegant features, every inch the high society young lady. Boys would stare at her, then look away, as if they weren’t being unseemly by taking a glance at her stunning looks. She would acknowledge them sometimes with a polite nod or a smile, ever the proper lady. As for myself, boys were of little importance. I don’t need a lover to be happy.

I miss spending time with Vivienne. I wonder where she has gone…

Entry 4

Things are back to normal today at the Mail. Father has been busy with meetings, so I’ve been left to my own devices. As usual, I find myself in James’ office to pass the time. We often play at a game where we compete to see who has the best idea for a story. Working with him also helps me not to dwell on the fact that Vivienne is missing. My instincts tell me there is more to her disappearance than what I am being led to believe.

James noted how tired and worried I looked today and asked what was wrong.

I told him I’m concerned about Vivi. She would never just go away like this without telling anyone. That I asked after her at the Jubilee and no one could tell me anything.

He told me not to worry, that Vivienne probably has her reasons for going away and that she’ll likely be back in no time at all. Maybe he’s right...

Entry 5

Perhaps I am overthinking this whole situation with Vivienne. She couldn’t have just gone missing without a trace. Maybe she’s at her family’s estate in Yorkshire? Or off on a trip somewhere and simply doesn’t have time to communicate with anyone. I’m going to send a note and see what comes of that. I hope that I hear from her soon.

Entry 6

It’s been a few weeks since I wrote and I didn’t get a response. Vivi never went more than a few days before replying in the past. I always looked forward to reading the letters she sent to me. What is going on?

Entry 7

I don’t want to believe it. I refuse to believe it. Vivienne… is dead! I saw the photographs on Father’s desk before he could put them away. He knew I had seen them and tried his best to console me. Whoever did this was a monster. Her throat had been cut and scarlet pools of blood turned the colorful silk of her dress a garish red. Her beautiful face, so often set in an expression of propriety was now a mask of horror, eyes glazed over in death.

She had been found in an alleyway in Whitechapel, a far cry from the lavish home she was used to. But why there of all places? Whitechapel is a slum district, a place of obvious disrepute. No one in their right mind would go there in the dead of night.

I can hear James calling to me, he knows I’ve locked myself away in father’s office to write this. He saw me crying earlier. I can hear him through the door saying that he’ll take me to dinner to take my mind off Vivi.

I let out a heavy sigh, running my fingers through my hair, trying to arrange it so it wouldn’t look so unkempt. Crying hadn’t done my appearance any favours. My eyes hurt, and my face was beet red. James stepped into the office moments later and comforted me, suggesting that we go and get a bite to eat. Some food might be just the thing to take my mind off of things.

Entry 8

Remind me never to drink that much Claret again. James insisted on taking me out to dinner and I don’t think I touched a thing on my plate. The only reason I’m able to write anything at the moment is that my lady’s maid Evelyn brought me tea and some breakfast. Keeping this entry short for now.

Entry 9

When I entered the offices at the Mail I was greeted with sad looks and words of sympathy. It’s sweet but how can they possibly know how it feels to learn your closest friend has been murdered by a madman in an alleyway and her body left for anyone to find?

My mind keeps going back to the photos, the horrific images of Vivi’s mangled body lying there in the alleyway, blood seeping onto the cobblestones. It was like something out of one of those awful Penny Dreadfuls that are all the rage… except instead of being confined to the pages of a book, it’s become reality.

The Mail reported it as “Jack the Ripper Rises Again!” and Father has been busy all morning trying to keep Vivi’s family from being hurt even more; he’s decided not to print anything that identifies Vivi, only publishing that another victim was claimed by the Ripper. He was able to use his contacts at Scotland Yard to keep Vivi’s identity confidential. I was in Father’s office, attempting to gather my thoughts on all of this when James banged on the door so loudly I nearly jumped from my chair.

I looked up at him as he opened the door, asking what he wanted. He stepped closer, with a concerned look on his face, asking if I was alright and brushing a lock of hair out of my face. He’s always been affectionate like that. We discussed the possibility of finding out what exactly happened to Vivienne, and despite my reservations I feel that he may be right. There is clearly more going on with Vivienne’s disappearance than what is being shown. But what? I think if James and I work together, we stand a better chance at figuring this out.

Entry 10

I pondered what James said for a day or two and came to this conclusion - looking into Vivienne’s death isn’t something I can’t do on my own. I’ll need help and that’s where James comes in. He knows how to find things out about people and has an eye for details most people wouldn’t notice at first glance. It’s one of many reasons why Father assigns him to the more difficult articles.

James can almost always be found in his office but when he isn’t there, he likes to spend time at the nearby Cafe Royal on Regent Street. I hailed a carriage and within a few minutes I was at the cafe. Sitting outside at one of the small tables was James.

He was leaning back in his seat, nose buried in the latest issue of the Mail. A cup of tea, half finished, was set on the table. I walked up and tapped him on the shoulder and let me tell you, the sight of him practically jumping out of his chair in surprise was quite amusing.

We sat at that table for what felt like hours and I affirmed to him my decision to search for the reason behind Vivienne’s death. James was eager to help out, and he gave me the brilliant suggestion of speaking with some of Vivienne’s family. If anything, it’s a place to start.

Entry 11

I do recall that Vivienne has two cousins; twin sisters Elizabeth and Mary. They were very close to Vivi and if anyone could tell me where she had been before her death it’s them. All I can do for the moment is send a note and pray I get a quick response. It will be nice to talk to someone besides James about all of this.

Entry 12

Elizabeth and Mary replied and asked me to call that afternoon. I explained to Father I was going to call on Elizabeth and Mary, and he agreed as long as James accompanied me. Elizabeth and Mary live in Piccadilly. When we arrived, James and I were escorted to the parlor where Elizabeth and Mary were waiting. I asked them if they knew anything more about why Vivienne disappeared. They looked at each other for a moment before Mary went on to describe how Vivi had a suitor. He was twice her age and of course her family did not approve. The purpose of the trip to Europe was for the twins and their mother to persuade Vivi to give him up. I asked them if they knew if Vivi had broken off the relationship and they said they weren’t sure, but she had promised to do so, as she had recently learned he was married.

I wonder what exactly Vivi had been thinking. She never seemed the type to pursue a married man. I suppose we all have secrets, but as her closest friend I thought I would be privy to the details of her romantic life.

Then Elizabeth explained that Vivienne had not been the one to initiate the relationship. This unknown man had approached her first, or at least that is what Vivi had told her cousins. Elizabeth also mentioned that before the trip was when Vivi had found out that her lover was married.

I ask if Vivienne had attempted to break off the relationship. This was giving me more questions than answers. Mary chimed in, saying that Vivi had indeed promised to break things off but when they had returned from Europe, Vivienne had disappeared and had never revealed to them who her lover was. She also stated that a pair of detectives from Scotland Yard had come by the house to ask them questions about Vivi as well, noting that they had yet to find any usable leads either. She said that they were uncertain about telling them about Vivi’s suitor and so they had kept quiet.

I quickly reassured them, telling Mary that she and her sister had done the right thing. If Scotland Yard knew about Vivienne having a mystery lover, they would have gone after every nobleman in London. I also made them a promise that I would do whatever it takes to find out what happened to Vivi.

Entry 13

Before I could even consider anything else, the absolute worst occurred. Someone went to one of the tabloids, which then published the photos of Vivienne’s body. On top of that, the tabloid had the gall to claim that Vivienne was a prostitute! Her family is of course beside themselves and Father is doing what he can to alleviate the damage but there is not much that can be done. Now that the photos have been made public, everyone will be talking and spreading all sorts of unseemly rumors.

I also received another note from Elizabeth and Mary who are more distraught than ever. Now I have even more of a reason to find the truth behind Vivienne’s death. If I can learn why she was killed, I can also prove that she was not a prostitute as this tabloid has claimed.

Entry 14

The Telegraph is the tabloid that ran the photos of Vivienne. One of the least reputable papers in London and one of the most published. I’m still uncertain as to who exactly gave them the photos, but James and I both suspect that it had to have been someone on the inside, at the Mail. The last person to have access to the photos was my father and I remember him keeping them in his desk in his office.

Father keeps his office locked at all times except when he is inside working. There is also only one key to his office as well, which he keeps on his person at all times. For someone to break into Father’s office they either had to be someone who could get the key away from him or somehow picked the lock to the office door and swiped the photos while Father was away. This just keeps getting more complex by the moment.

James has been talking to his fellow reporters in the office, to see if one them might have caught a glimpse of who snuck into Father’s office. So far none of them have said anything of use. It seems that for the moment we are stuck.

Entry 15

It took a couple of days, but James finally discovered the source of the leak when he was going through the list of current reporters for the Mail to pick which ones would take on specific jobs for the upcoming week and one name had stood out from the rest; “Thomas Graves”. James had taken matters into his own hands and I caught him leaving the Mail in a hurry, coat over one shoulder and a very annoyed look in his eyes.

I managed to catch him before he stepped out the door, asking him what was wrong. He explained that he had found the man responsible for leaking the photos and berated himself for not being more thorough. Of course James wasn’t to blame; no-one could have predicted something like this would occur. I then asked him what he planned to do next and James responded quite vehemently that he planned on wringing the bastard’s neck and that nobody at the Mail got away with something like this on his watch. He was fuming, angrily mentioning how Father had put him in charge of the reporters and worrying that if Father found out that he had let someone in under a false name that his job could be at risk and that Father might have his head on a plate!

I told him to calm down at once, noting that violence is unbecoming and that rushing after this man was not going to get him anywhere, nor would it get us any closer to finding out more about Vivienne and the man she was involved with. I told James we need a plan and that we can’t just rush after a man without cause. I can make sure Father doesn’t get wind of this occurrence. James stared at me for a long moment after this and his tone calmed from aggression to worry as he wondered if such a thing was possible. I know how much James enjoys working at the Mail and how highly Father thinks of him. I wouldn’t want him to lose his job over something like this.

Entry 16

Once again James has come through for me. He did some digging about and discovered that ‘Thomas Graves” was known in the tabloid industry for stunts like these. He was a low-class writer for the Telegraph who had been hunting for a good story and when the article about Vivienne’s murder had been published it was only a matter of time before he decided to take it upon himself to sensationalize the affair by painting Vivienne as a prostitute and spreading that all over the tabloids.

Entry 17

The issue with Thomas Graves has been dealt with. James told me that Graves will be swiftly punished for his actions and the tabloid articles regarding Vivienne will cease to be published. Hopefully that will be enough. For the moment I’m taking notes on all that has transpired thus far and gathering my thoughts as for what to do next. While I’m busy writing, Father is working on patching things up with Vivienne’s family after the whole tabloid mess. I hope things will go better from here on. Unfortunately there is little that can be done at this point, since most of London has probably seen the photos of her body and likely believes the rumors that were spread about. At the very least Father has done what he can and I am thankful for that.

Entry 18

It has been a couple of weeks since the debacle with the tabloids and for the time being things are somewhat back to normal at the Mail. This entry will have to be cut short as Father called for our carriage to collect us so that we can attend Vivienne’s funeral. It still hurts knowing that Vivienne is dead, but at least her funeral will give her family and friends some measure of peace knowing that she will be put to rest. I must go now, as I hear the carriage pulling up to the house.

Entry 19

The service was sad but very touching, though something peculiar happened as Father and I were leaving. A carriage pulled up to the church, and I noticed the shades draw up for just a moment, revealing an older gentleman before closing quickly and the carriage going on it’s way. Strange… could that have been the mysterious lover that Mary and Elizabeth told me about?

After the carriage pulled away I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Mary and Elizabeth. As with everyone else in attendance they were dressed all in mourning black, veils drawn over their faces. Mary held out her hand to reveal a silver key. I asked her what the key was for and she told me that it went to the flat that Vivienne often employed when she went off to meet her lover. She further explained that giving them the key had been part of her promise not to see him again and I noticed the small card attached to it. Elizabeth smiled and said that written upon the card was the address of the flat, the second part of the promise that ensured if Vivienne ever broke her word, they would know where to find her. She told me that I would probably make better use of it than they could, and hoped that I could find something at the flat.

I took the key and tucked it into my purse, bidding the twins farewell and catching up to Father who was waiting for me at our carriage. Having this key certainly changed things, and I wasn’t sure about telling James. He was still under a lot of stress from the tabloid debacle and I think he needs time to himself to calm down and properly get back to work. As for me, I’m going to plan out what I need to do next. This secret flat that Vivi occupied could be exactly where I need to go to find out more.

Entry 20

I decided to wait a few more days before heading to the flat. I wanted to make sure that James is alright and that he also won’t worry anymore about me. It seems like he’s in a constant state of worry lately. I can tell that the whole mess with Mr. Graves really shook him. I think he is also upset about not being able to attend Vivienne’s funeral, though of course the service was only for close friends and family… was he a friend of hers?

Now that things seem to be alright with James and Father doesn’t need me for anything at the moment, I’m off to take a look at this flat. The address lead me back to Regent Street, not far from the Cafe Royal that James so often frequented. I went up to the building and stepped inside, heading up several flights of stairs until I reached the door numbered ‘621’. I felt a tinge of apprehension as I slowly unlocked the door. What sorts of things would I find in here? What could Vivi have left behind?

The flat was lushly appointed, though it was rather small. Most of the flat was taken up by a living room, with what I assumed was the bedroom behind another door just ahead. The furniture was heavy in appearance, the wood varnished to a deep shine. The velvet curtains were a deep burgundy that decorated the windows clouded with dust. A small bookshelf occupied one wall, and on the other side of the room stood a single table and two chairs. Just enough for a couple to make themselves at home, I noted. I took my time and explored, looking through the bookshelf. There was nothing out of place here, just a few novels and a vase of flowers that had long since withered. I picked up one of the flowers that still had a few of it’s pale blue petals. Irises. Vivienne’s favorite. I also looked at one of the novels and couldn’t help smiling. Vivi secretly had a love for these books, those ‘forbidden romance’ types. I remember her spending hours reading them in secret. Perhaps the bedroom would offer something more. It too was elegant, a beautiful blue satin throw across the bed, white starched linens, embroidered with blue and pink flowers. A small rug lay next to the bed also embroidered with the same flowers. There was a table to the right of the bed and a chest at the foot. A small, leatherbound diary sat on the table. I opened it glimpsed through the pages, but nothing stood out. The entries were mostly about normal things like the weather and the goings-on of her day.

I set the diary aside for now and looked through the rest of the room, but nothing else of note stood out. However I did make a note to check inside the chest at the foot of the bed, as that looked promising. This entire visit was hardly worth it then. If Vivi did leave anything of note here, I have yet to find it.

I suppose for now I must leave, as I have been gone for a while and Father will want to know where I am. I suppose I’ll have to do what comes naturally and make up a good story to tell to keep him from getting suspicious as to where I went off to.

Entry 21

James wants to know where I went a few days ago, and I mentioned receiving the key from Elizabeth and Mary. When he asked what the key led to, I told him about the flat, describing how there was little there of use and as I spoke I noticed his expression began to change. His gaze briefly darted to the key which I had set on his desk and then back to mine as I finished talking and he looked nervous. I didn’t mention anything, but I knew something was off.

He shrugged and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, stating that it had been left with Vivienne’s body. There were initials embroidered into one of the corners and I studied them intently. The embroidered initials were ‘R.B.N.’

James asked me who could have initials like that and I shrugged, guessing they most likely belonged to someone of nobility. The quality of the fabric from what I could tell was high, not something a regular person would carry about.

James grinned and nodded at this, noting that we were finally getting somewhere. He playfully shooed me away to take care of a couple of things and I left him in peace. I am in Father’s office now as I write this, though I did tell James to come in if he needs me for anything.

Entry 22

These initials must belong to the person that Vivi was seeing, and if I can find something that belongs to him there, I’ll be one step closer to finding her killer. Unfortunately, I can’t head back out to the flat tonight. Father needs me at home for a dinner party. He’s inviting some of his nobleman friends and wants me to be present. I’d rather be anywhere but here…

Entry 23

I returned to the flat today and found something that finally could be of use. A pair of cufflinks attached to a dress shirt within the chest at the foot of Vivi’s bed. They were engraved with the same initials embroidered on the handkerchief that James gave me. Both of these objects therefore belonged to the man that Vivi was seeing… unfortunately I have little else to go on. A handkerchief and a pair of cufflinks isn’t necessarily helpful.

However Father did mention recently that an important bill was passed in Parliament; something called the Worker’s Compensation Act. There was an article written about it today and I found the clippings that corresponded with it. One was a photo of the members of the House of Lords who had passed the bill through to Parliament. Their names were written on the back for reference, and one of the names was “Robert Beaufort-North.”. R.B.N. Could these initials be the ones that match the handkerchief and the cufflinks? If so, it would certainly fit with my theory thus far.

I tucked the photo away into my purse for later, but left the rest of the clippings in their file. Maybe people in the shops around the flat had seen Vivienne with this ‘R.B.N’.

I took a carriage to Regent Street and walked around the local shops, showing the photo to shopkeepers and the like. None of them had seen Vivienne or Lord Beaufort-North, much less seen them together. I was about to give up when I stepped into the Cafe Royal and showed the photo to the man behind the counter. He had seen Vivienne in the cafe before but not with RBN. However he had seen Vivi in the cafe several times… with James. James!? I wondered. Why would she be at the Cafe Royal with him?! He also mentioned that the last time he had seen the pair together she had bolted out of the cafe and he had run after her, both of them clearly in distress.

What could Vivi possibly be doing with James? And why were they arguing?

Entry 24

Well now I’m stuck. Do I confront James about what I learned at the Cafe Royal? Or do I keep quiet and continue investigating on my own time? I do recall how he looked when I showed him the key to Vivi’s flat. He had a look of distress, an expression I hardly ever seen on his face, even though he tried to hide it. Even worse is the idea that Vivi was seeing this member of the House of Lords and that whatever happened between them had ended up in her death. In any case, I’ll have to make a decision on this sooner or later. The question is how to approach James about this without making him suspicious…

Entry 25

I’ve been considering my options as for what to discuss with James… and while it would be prudent to talk to him about this, I’m just not sure how to go about it. If I tell him that I know about him and Vivi being at the Cafe, he would most likely take offense. I don’t want to lose him as a friend, but finding out exactly what happened to Vivi is the most important thing to me. Not only does it clear her name and prove that she wasn’t a prostitute, it shows that there was a motive behind her murder other than some ‘Jack the Ripper’ nonsense.

When I went to the Mail today I found James in his office as usual, reading through the latest clippings and laying out the day’s paper. For a little while we talked about the usual things, story ideas and the topics his reporters were working on. When I changed the subject to telling how I had paid a visit to the Cafe Royal and taken a photo of Lord Beaufort-North around the area without success he sighed, reassuring me that something would turn up. Then I told him about what the shopkeeper at the Cafe had said about seeing him and Vivi… and his expression swiftly changed. One moment he had been peacefully at work, the next he was glaring down at me as if I had offended him deeply.

He proceeded to argue, keeping his voice low despite the anger I could feel coming off of him. His words were harsh, asking why I cared about him and Vivi and why it mattered that they had been to the Cafe together. Friends argue all the time, he said. An argument never hurt anyone. When I asked what the argument had been about he went quiet, refusing to talk any further. I didn’t want to upset him anymore than I already had and left his office with a heavy sigh, apologizing for any offense I might have caused.

I had a feeling that it would go this way. As I write this, I can feel tears stinging my eyes. Of all the people upset at me, the last person I wanted to offend was James. He’s the one friend I hold most dear.

Entry 26

Since James refused to tell me exactly why he and Vivi had been arguing at the Cafe Royal, I headed back there myself to see if the waiter could recall anything about why he and Vivi had been arguing. He told me that from what he could remember, they had been having a row about someone but other than that, he couldn’t recall. But who were they arguing about?

Entry 27

I’ve been spending the last few days putting the pieces of my growing theory together. From what I have collected thus far, Vivi had been seeing Lord Beaufort-North at a secret flat near the Cafe Royal. She had promised to break off the relationship with him but disappeared before that could be confirmed. I now know that James had been arguing with Vivi at the Cafe. I tried to ask him again about it but he just looked at me once with an annoyed glare before turning back to his work. I don’t want to press him further at the moment.

There is a missing piece here; something to do with the row James had with Vivi at the cafe and her time with Beaufort-North. All of the evidence seems to point towards Lord Beaufort-North being the killer but I have nothing to confirm my theory aside from the cufflinks and the handkerchief that bore his initials.

It also occurs to me that I don’t know how James obtained the handkerchief in the first place. He told me that it was found along with Vivi’s body, but I saw the photos. Vivienne didn’t appear to have any possessions with her at the time her body was found. This is worth looking into.

Entry 28

Asking James about the handkerchief proved useful indeed. Again he stated that the handkerchief had been found with her body, but I told him that the photos of Vivienne showed that she had no other possessions aside from the clothes she was wearing. James acted as if I had slapped him, and the look on his face was a cross between confusion and anger. He repeated that the handkerchief had been found with her body, and that was that and I should drop the issue. I wasn’t about to give up now and pressed him a little more until he said that we should talk later, away from the Mail office. I agreed to meet him after he was done working at the Cafe Royal and from there we could talk further.

The day seems to be slowing to a crawl as I wait for James to come and meet me at the Cafe. When he does arrive he slowly takes a seat across from me, and his expression is dour. He apologized for arguing with me and then asked why I wanted to talk more about Vivi and that he had already told me everything he knew. I quickly explained everything I already knew thus far and the evidence I had collected. All the evidence pointed towards Lord Beaufort-North being the killer and the reason I wanted to know why he had been arguing with Vivi was if he had been trying to sway her to break up with him as well. I also told him about the conversation I had with Mary and Elizabeth regarding their relationship and that she had promised to break it off.

James looked at me strangely, and I’ll never forget how his eyes widened and how afraid he looked. He revealed that he had been friends with Vivi for some time and that she had told him about her suitor. He didn’t know that she had been attempting to break up with him. I noticed his hand shaking around the cup of tea he was sipping from and I asked if he was alright. He couldn’t believe that Vivi had been trying to break up with him, as from what he had seen they were qute close. I drew the key to Vivi’s flat from my purse and set it on the table, remarking on the way he had reacted to it previously. He sighed and took a long sip of tea, telling me that he knew about the flat because he had visited Vivi there a couple of times.

When I asked him why he had been visiting Vivi, he quieted again. I waited for him to respond and he finally told me that he and Vivi had been more than just friends, that they had been a couple. I still feel my stomach drop as I remember this conversation.. Neither Vivi or James had told me they had been a couple and to this day I still don’t know why they didn’t tell me. James also revealed that Vivi had given him the spare key to the flat, keeping the original that I now had for herself. That way they both could have access and see each other.

I asked him how long he and Vivi had been seeing each other prior to her death and he said that they had been together for a few months at least, though it was difficult to maintain the relationship since she was a lady of society and he was essentially a commoner. If they were seen together it would have caused a scandal. Therefore the flat made for a perfect meeting place. Hardly anyone knew about it and they could spend time together in secret. I began to see why Vivi had fallen for James in the first place as he talked about some of the things they did together; walks in the park and shopping along Regent Street. James made her happy, gave her freedom that being part of society couldn’t provide. It seems they made a perfect couple, until her death. It reminds me of the books I found in the flat, those forbidden romance stories could easily describe the relationship she had with James.

I told him that I would do what I could to bring Vivienne’s killer to justice and that my evidence strongly pointed to Lord Beaufort-North as the killer. James seemed reassured by this but I still caught a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes. Something still wasn’t right…

Entry 29

Even with the evidence I have collected, I couldn’t just go about accusing a member of the House of Lords of murder. I needed solid, undeniable proof that he was the killer. The cufflinks and the handkerchief were good starters, but I needed something more. I think one more visit to the flat may be in order. I remember the diary that Vivi had been keeping, perhaps there was something inside it that I missed.

I had a carriage come to collect me at the Mail, and I told Father that I was heading to the Cafe Royal for lunch to cover my tracks. The carriage arrived promptly and took me to the flat. I went up the stairs and back to the familiar door, unlocking it and stepping back inside. The same lavish furnishings, pale curtains, and wilting flowers greeted me. In a way, it hurt to come back here again, knowing that Vivi had been here in secret to spend time with James. Neither of them had told me about their relationship, and I still wondered why. I paused once again at the bookshelf and picked up the lone book that was tilted onto its side. As I flipped through the pages I recalled Vivi spending hours telling me about all of the characters in this particular novel, how the story was utterly romantic and how she couldn’t stop reading it. The thought still brings a smile to my face.

I went back to the bedroom and found the diary still on the bedside table where it had remained since I found it. I slowly went through the pages, and again nothing stood out until I reached the back cover and I noticed one of the pages was looser than the others. I pulled at it and it turned out this page was actually a folded sheet of paper. Setting the diary aside, I picked up the paper and unfolded it. Written upon it was a note from Vivienne… to someone referred to only as ‘R’. ‘R’ must stand for Robert. Of course Vivi would keep this secret too. Pursuing a man twice her age… Vivi what were you thinking?

I’ve transcribed the note here;

To ‘R’,

I am afraid that we can no longer keep meeting here at the flat. Things have changed between us and I think that we are no longer fit for each other. I sincerely hope you understand and that you will understand why. My family has grown suspicious of my actions, my cousins know of our relationship - they made me tell them! And I have been told I can no longer see you. However, I believe I can still make it back tonight if you wish to discuss this further. Drop off a note at our usual place and I’ll meet you here.

Sincerely, V

It appears that Vivi was holding up her end of the bargain to Mary and Elizabeth, breaking off the relationship for good. But what of her and James? Did James know that Vivi had broken up with R? It seemed that he was unaware of this, as our conversation at the cafe seemed to indicate that all he knew was that Vivi had been with Lord Robert previously and had already broken things off. I think Vivi hadn’t gotten around to telling him that she was in the process of breaking it off.

There was also a specific date scrawled onto the note, indicating the night prior to her death. She had been here waiting for Lord Robert to return… and when he came back, it seemed he had not taken the breakup as peacefully as Vivi hoped. Oh Vivi… I am so sorry.

I slipped the letter into my purse and set the diary back onto the table. It wouldn’t hurt to take one last look around the flat and see if there was anything else I could have missed. The only room I had never looked into was the bathroom, thinking that there wouldn’t be anything of importance there. But surely it wouldn’t hurt to look? Her bathroom was just outside the bedroom, off to the side. Within was a sink, a clawfoot tub, and a toilet. A very simple layout. A mirror was perched above the sink with a small shelf below that held some of Vivi’s toiletries. A small bottle of perfume and some powder in a small pink case. Pink was Vivienne’s other favourite color aside from pale blue.

It seemed there was nothing else of importance, until I saw that the rug on the floor was ajar. As I shifted it aside, I saw dark red stains and to my horror appeared to be blood. These flecks of blood were scattered in a haphazard trail leading from the bathroom to the front door as I looked closer. What could have happened to cause all of this?

Entry 30

The flecks of blood were greatly worrying to me and as I followed the trail to the front door, I noticed that they became more pronounced. Something violent had occurred here, and it seemed to corroborate with my theory that Robert Beaufort-North was the killer. I wonder if perhaps they had met at the flat as Vivi had arranged in the letter, and during the attempt to break things off, Lord Beaufort-North became angry and instead of resolving things peacefully… I didn’t want to think about that outcome, but it all seemed to be pointing in that direction. Lord Beaufort-North killed Vivi here in the flat, and dumped her body in Whitechapel, ensuring that it would resemble a Ripper murder. Thus, nobody would suspect a prominent member of the House of Lords could be a cold-blooded killer. The flecks of blood could be what was left behind as he transported her body or perhaps dripped off of his clothes and he had forgotten to clean up after himself.

All in all, it was horrifying to imagine. Poor Vivi, only wanting to break off the relationship peacefully and ending up murdered for her efforts! It is awful to think about, even to this day that Vivi was killed in the very place I had been standing in, and of course since the flat was out of the way and only a few people knew about it, no-one had come to help her. She had died and nobody would ever have known until her body was found in Whitechapel.

In a twisted way, I had to admit that this man was clever, masking his crime within the guise of Jack the Ripper. Of course, even the most clever of men still leave traces behind, hence the drops of blood. That was the proof of his guilt. He thinks that he can hide behind the Ripper’s butchery, but I’ve proven otherwise. All that remains is to bring this evidence to Father and see what he thinks about publishing my findings, or at least helping me get this proof to Scotland Yard...

Entry 31

After a couple days of taking notes and making sure I have everything necessary, I went to Father’s office to present my findings. Unfortunately he was out on business. However, James was there and as I walked up to him, he had an uneasy look on his face. I recalled the conversations we had recently and thought that perhaps he was still troubled by how I now knew of his relationship with Vivi. I asked him if everything was alright and as usual he gave me a quick smile and said that he was fine, just tired from a late night of working on the latest issue of the mail.

I told him that I had found some new evidence that would prove that Lord Beaufort-North had murdered Vivienne and this intrigued him, though uncertainty lingered in his gaze as I described the trail of blood. He didn’t react to the blood, but when I mentioned the letter written by Vivienne to ‘R’ who I theorized could only be Robert Beaufort-North, his gaze snapped up to mine, and in a soft tone he asked if we could talk somewhere else, and led me to his private office. I looked at him in surprise, and to this day I’ll never forget his reaction when I asked him why. He peered out of the doorway to see if anyone was present before stepping back in and slamming the door shut. His entire body was tense and trembling at the same time and I jumped at the sound of the door, looking up at him in confusion.

James was muttering, over and over that he was wrong, that he had made a terrible mistake, and why, why did he do that… it was very frightening and as I asked what he was talking about he swiftly turned to me, his eyes wild with fear. The look of absolute terror on his face is etched into my mind even now. I gently told him that even though the evidence pointed to Beaufort-North, there was still the matter of him having a solid alibi and that was the one piece of the puzzle I couldn’t fit with the others. The night of Vivi’s death, he was busy at Parliament working on the Compensation Act. James remained silent, unmoving. When I finally showed him my journal, with the transcribed note that I had found in the flat however, he broke down. The tension seemed to leave him in a sudden rush as he began to sob. Never before had I seen James act like this and I wasn’t entirely sure at the time how to react, or what even to say. He collapsed into his chair, gazing at me with those haunted eyes and finally told me something that shook me to the core.

James confessed that he had murdered Vivienne. That he had killed her in a fit of jealous rage; thinking that she had left him for Beaufort-North… and the argument they had at the Cafe Royal had occurred on the day she died. They had been arguing about her relationship with Beaufort-North and how he felt as if she had been leading him on, playing with him alongside her relationship to the noble Lord. When he had gone back to her flat that night, he didn’t know that she had broken off the relationship and had been leaving the flat just after the break up.

As I stared at him in shock, my expression a mixture of terror and disbelief; he continued by saying that he had confronted her at the flat, where their argument had turned from words to blows. He had shoved her and she fell, striking her head and going unconscious. When he went to her to try to rouse her, he realized she was dead. In his panic he admitted to me he thought if he made it look like a murder, he could leave her in Whitechapel and Jack the Ripper would be blamed. Her death was an accident, he swore, but he was so terrified of everyone finding out he was the cause of the accident, his panic led him to cut her throat and slash at her dress to make it appear to be a Ripper murder. He cleaned up the best he could, but there were spatters of blood on the floor he couldn’t remove. He pulled the small rug by her bed over them, hoping they wouldn’t be discovered. He then wrapped her in a blanket, and taking back streets and alleys, carried her to Whitechapel.

The only thing he took from her, perhaps as a reminder of the woman he had loved and her supposed betrayal was the handkerchief. The same one that he had given to me. He had claimed that it had been found with her body, but now I knew the truth.

All of my evidence had pointed to Robert Beaufort-North, a member of the House of Lords. Not once did I ever suspect, ever consider that it would be James, the person who I trusted the most in the world. I wanted to scream, cry, do something to release the terror and shock I felt but there was nothing. No sound came from my lips, no words formed in my mind. I was left sitting there dumbfounded, completely numb. There was nothing I could say, even as he gazed at me, clearly looking to me for some kind of reassurance.

He reached over to me, trying to take my hand and as I pulled it from him I reeled out of my chair, stumbling backward. I told him to stay away from me. I could barely form the words as my mind was spinning. “Why? Why did you do this James? Why did you lie to me about seeing Vivi all this time? Why couldn’t you just have admitted it was an accident? Father would have hired the best barrister in London to defend you!!”

His reply is what finally caused a broken, strangled sob to leave my lips. James admitted he had been in love with me for years. But because I had never considered him anything more than a friend, when he ran into Vivienne by chance one evening as he was leaving the Cafe Royale they struck up a conversation over their mutual friendship with me. He didn’t admit to her that he was in love with me, and she didn’t tell him that evening that she was seeing someone else. It was a perfect storm of two people in relationships that were unsatisfying, and they easily fell in love.

After several long moments of simply trying to process what he said, I sighed heavily. James had killed my friend, even if it was an accident and not only that - he had attempted to frame a member of the House of Lords. Part of me knew that I had to tell Father about this, to let someone know about what finally really happened to Vivienne… and yet another part didn’t. Some little spark of friendship towards James still remained, as much as I hated the thought I told him the best thing he could do was to turn himself into Scotland Yard. There was nothing more I could do for him.

At this point I recall leaving him in the office alone, closing the door behind me. I remember sliding down the door until I was sitting, my back against the cold wood as I cried. I cried for my own naivete, for Vivienne and even for James. He should never have been driven to such a deed. I still don’t understand why he did it. I most likely will never understand. Perhaps in that way, some things should simply remain unsaid.

Entry 32

Considering all that has occurred with James and his confession, it is difficult for me to write now. All this time I was under the impression that Vivienne had been killed by her lover , and I was correct in that, I just didn’t know that lover was James. At the very least he took my advice as I heard from Father that James went to Scotland Yard and confessed to Vivienne’s death. Father was in a state of shock, not only was James his best reporter, but he looked upon him as a member of the family, almost a son.

With Vivi dead, and James in prison I am left alone.

I can take some solace in knowing that Vivienne can finally, truly rest in some manner of peace. Her cause of her death was solved and her killer faces justice, as cruel as it is. I end this diary having learned what it truly means to investigate the darkest secrets of the human soul.

Father thankfully will not be publishing any kind of articles regarding the truth behind Vivienne’s death, aside from the basic details of her killer having been found and brought to justice. Considering how he treated James almost like a son, it greatly hurt him to discover what had occurred and he has decided that things will be kept as quiet about it as possible. At least with everything solved and taken care of, the public will hopefully turn their focus to other things. I think Father has had enough of the Mail being under scrutiny.

Entry 33

I told myself that after all that has happened I would no longer write in this diary. I did not want to revisit the memories, the horrors I endured attempting to bring justice to Vivienne’s death. For a long while I’ve stopped going with Father to the Mail, as when I would pass by the office that once belonged to James, I would recall his confession, the terror in his eyes… that is not the James that I want to remember. I remember him as the loyal, caring friend that stuck by my side. Now I wish I’d known he loved me. It will be a regret I carry forever. The only memento I keep of the whole ordeal is the handkerchief. I keep it tucked here in this diary to remind me of my first foray into investigative journalism and the friends it cost me.

To conclude this final entry, I leave this diary unfinished. There will be other stories to tell, perhaps other investigations for me to work on… but that will come later. For now, I seek peace and quiet, time to think about what I wish to do next. I may be alone, but I intend to make the best of it. After all, there is always something going on in London...