Terror Over London

LONDON-1888. Fog-wet streets and gas-lit lamps, hansom cabs and dense, wet nights.

A world of proper gentility, of suppressed desires—a world brutally sundered when into it burst the bloody specter of Jack the Ripper.

London became a city at siege, paralyzed in the grip of terror as the list of the Ripper's victims grew and grew—streetwalkers all of them, murdered and mutilated by a knife wielded with all the skill of a sadistic surgeon.

A sadistic surgeon—perhaps even one like Sir Stanley Hawkins, the brilliant young society physician who made many night calls with a particularly wicked sword cane at his hand.

Sir Stanley Hawkins, a man possessed by a devil of a woman who awoke the wanton animal—and the ogre—within him.

Here is a new, overpowering, ingenious theory of the man who might have been Jack the Ripper, a man whose loves and hates drove him down. ward to that most final of all deeds—murder, most horrible.