Nine months had passed since the last report of a Wicked John murder. The Times deemed him to be dormant and chastised the CID and London Metropolitan Police for once again allowing a crazed psychopath to get away.
The disappearances of Jasper Merchant and Hilliard Purefoy had been partially solved. Their bodies turned up in the River Thames several weeks after their initial disappearances. The gruesome state of the bodies combined with the runic markings indicated that they had met their ends at the hands of Wicked John. Inquiries had been made, but no clear suspects or leads could be sussed out, and the case remained open but unsolved.
At St Thomas’ Hospital, Selma Gayheart had just given birth. The father was unknown, and her status as a well to do debutante made the unwed pregnancy a bit of a controversy for hospital staff, but the elder Gayheart and Selma herself did not seem to be affected by the scandalous nature of the birth at all.
The nurse handed the newborn, a baby boy, to his mother. Selma could not have been happier. She loved the child with her entire soul at the very moment she beheld him.
“You shall inherit great wealth, dear child,” she cooed. “I believe I shall name you Jasper, after you father. You have his eyes.”