Our LAD in Europe, now Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Jack the Ripper!"

 Our Man in Europe, Dave Delacroix: "Jack the Ripper!"

(Scene: An Edwardian/Victorian drawing room, late 1800s/early 1900s, cluttered with heavy drapery, flock wallpaper, early (Selfies?) B/W photographs on fireplace mantel, overdressed family connections lately demised.)

(Fast FWD to the present day/same decor?)

..."JUST WHERE IS HENRY, the Butler?" -said I to Betty the chambermaid, these days called an "Au pair". She replied, nervously, "I think he's in the Butler's Buttery (?); I think, SIR, on his Cellphone?". "His phone? ...And have U seen HIDE NOR HAIR of my Horse Stable Lads, in particular with my Mare?" -"With your LADY-Sir?... In the East wing. They share the same Internet service. That CHAT thingy?"

"TIK-TOK? SPRINT?" -I asked. Betty, "I dunno Sir!". (She had a Brooklyn/N.Y.C dialect.) I tried to clarify the situ.: "Did the BUTLER, Henry ever order a Handsome Cab in the name of SHERLOCK HOLMES? -Possibly using the alias of a certain Dr. Watson?" (Betty:) "I'm-ed DUNOON if I say so Sir! Gypsies, Taxis, UBER?" -was BETTY'S, whispered response; a conspirator in a Police-cover-up of a unique "Crime of the Century", horses' hooves on cobble stones, now stretch limousines, nose-candy & Epstein debauchee-jamborees? EDGAR ALLEN POE'S: "Tell-Tale Heart": How could, I be sure?

Jack the Ripper? Sherlock whoosits? EVIL transcends EONS! I too smoke a pipe. A long "Churchwarden". In my case, tobacco laced with opium. (Old local chemist/discreet drug dealer). Sometimes I'm in a profound ZONE for hours. S-why I can get no sense out of Betty, nor she can get no sense out of me? Cutting her Lilly-laced throat or lowering her wages has long since been on my mind? Yet with the advent of LUDDITES, Trade Unions, though a hundred years later, for better or worse, one has to go with the Times?

"Oh Betty?" I asked, upon her departure from my "Book Room"; "Just WHERE IS JACK, I mean, Henry the Butler?". (Her fist in her tiny mouth:) "Likely, Sir, erasing past E-mails, old "Selfies" on his Cellphone.". She nervously babbled on: "Sir, yes! The ones of U & 'IM dressed in Victorian Frockcoats, that is to say, the B/W Fotos of U with your Doctor's bag?" (So, I sighed:) "Jolly good Betty. Here is a brand-new Credit Card. Go buy yourself a Mercedez-Benz or a long holiday in the sun."

c. dave delacroix.