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knife, causing a red gash and a spurt of flame-colored liquid, followed by a gurgle and rattle as of someone gasping for breath. Again came the pungent, cloying scent of cheap perfume as the second victim’s face dipped, and appeared, and dipped again, swallowed by the mist.
    â€œSuch a pity about Dark Annie.” The apple woman’s voice radiated out from the diaphanous cocoon of her hologram. “The Ripper snipped off Dark Annie’s ears and sent them to the police. Then he saved some of her blood in a ginger beer bottle to write a missive to the newspapers, but it grew thick as glue and he had to use red ink instead.
    â€œAfter the murder of Dark Annie, all of London, including the Queen, became fixated on these vicious attacks, especially when they began to escalate in brutality. Isn’t that right, Doctor Llewellyn?”
    â€œYes, my dear, quite right. And I should know, because I was the surgeon who officiated at the autopsies of these poor unfortunates.” The robotic Doctor Llewellyn could now be seen sitting in a leather armchair just ahead. “Shall I give our guests some clues, Mrs. Llewellyn, to help elucidate the peculiar facts of the case?” He crossed and uncrossed his mechanical legs with a click-clacking, whirring sound.
    â€œOh, yes, Doctor Llewellyn. Do tell,” twinkled Mrs. Llewellyn, smiling like an apple-cheeked fairy godmother in her floating soap bubble.
    â€œCome closer, right this way, and I shall present the clues forthwith.”
    The teenagers moved along the smoky passage as fans in the ceiling tore blotches and rifts in the fake fog.
    â€œOn September thirtieth, in the year 1888, Jack the Ripper committed a double murder. First, Molly Potter in Berner Street, Whitechapel, and then, shortly before midnight, Catherine Eddowes in Mitre Square, Aldgate—both within earshot of police officers. After the double murder of Molly Potter and Catherine Eddowes the habits of East Enders changed overnight. No one dared venture outside after nightfall, so great was their fear of the Ripper. And those unfortunate few who had no choice were instructed by Scotland Yard to walk in pairs. Hark ye, Mrs. Llewellyn, in pairs .
    â€œSuddenly Jack the Ripper’s butchery was being debated in the House of Commons, as well as in front of every blazing fireplace in all of England.” A spurt of fake fire rose in a hearth next to Doctor Llewellyn, rippling cellophane tongues of orange and red.
    â€œLondoners were outraged that in the wealthiest, most powerful nation on earth such savagery was allowed to go unchecked. Newspapers and politicians denounced Scotland Yard for its ineptitude. Roaming mobs of vigilantes and clerical do-gooders took to the streets to hunt down the hideous monster.
    â€œ ‘Who is Jack the Ripper?’ was heard on every street corner throughout the land. How was he able to murder and slice up his victims when the entire Metropolitan Police force was patrolling every inch of Whitechapel? And, most troublesome of all, why did the Ripper’s victims never cry out for help when help was so very close?”
    â€œOh, look!” the floating Mrs. Llewellyn chirped, bobbing happily now alongside her waxwork husband. “There’s Molly Potter! Molly-Dolly is positively bursting with pride, pregnant as she is with her first child. A baby girl, they say, or so it appeared after the infant was ripped from Molly-Dolly’s womb—”
    â€œEr, that will do, Mrs. Llewellyn. No need to open up a Pandora’s box of horrors, or dwell on the morbid details of these revolting acts of bloodshed, which occurred, after all, a century and a half ago.”
    â€œBut our guests do need to know the facts. After Molly Potter was murdered, Catherine Eddowes was butchered just before midnight that same evening. Then it was Elizabeth Stride’s turn, followed by Mary Jane Kelly, so very, very beautiful she was. A Marilyn Monroe