If by chance you happened to be in the Windy City...
between May 28 and June 2 of this year,
you would have had very good reason to be terrified.
During this period, Chicago was being stalked by a horror so frightening, so fascinating,
that it ranks with the great mysteries of all times.
It's been the fictional subject of novels, plays, films, even an opera.
Now, here are the true facts.
May 21. 3:00 a.m.
Across the state line at Werner's Boom-Boom Room in Milwaukee, Wisconsin,
Michele Shifman, a dancer- whatever- had just done her last number.
I mean, really her last number.
Hey! Grab that guy!
May 24. 11:30 p.m. Three days later. Milwaukee again.
Debbie Fielder: 22, 5 feet 9, weight 120.
Hobbies: Breaking horses and collecting bone china.
Debbie wanted to be successful. She should have settled for being alive.
May 25. 10:00 a.m. Tony Vincenzo and I...
were debating my coverage of the robbery at First County Bank and Trust...
where thieves had escaped with over $100,000.
For reasons I have never been able to understand,
Vincenzo has always confused my reporter's clever ingenuity...
with what he calls high-handed lunacy.
I did not state that I was a police officer.
No, but you acted like the police commissioner.
Well-Well- You commandeered a private automobile.
You had six people under arrest. They were interfering.
Because of them, I missed one of the biggest stories of the year.
L- I placed them under citizen's arrest.
That's my right. Well, I have a few rights too.
And I plan on exercising one right now.
Well, let me-
- Now, I- - Last night- Last night, in one brief moment of total madness,
you managed to tear asunder the many ties that this news service has built up over a period of years...
with the police department and Captain Warren,
who hates you by the way- a lot.
Okay. What's the bottom line?
The bottom line. Carl,
Miss Emily went on vacation this morning.
Good morning, Miss Emily.
Go play with your pimples.
How's it goin'? Have you read these?
Have you ever read any of these letters? Sure, I have.
"Dear Emily. When a person has been doing something rather personal with another person,
"and she finds out the same thing has been going on with other persons,
"many of whom are personal friends or related,
what is a person to do?"
Sure, you get a few screwballs.
But, by and large, they're mostly sincere people. Mm.
They're just bewildered, confused. That's all.
Now, Carl, all I want are some simple, honest answers-
homespun, grassroots.
Homespun, grassroots, huh? You mean, don't go for a Pulitzer.
- Right. - Right.
Now, answer every letter with a return envelope.
Look, this is only for a week, Carl, until Emily gets back.
Sure.
"Dear Emily: The three dumbest things in the world are you, your column and your paper.
"I am overwhelmed by the accumulated dumbness.
P.S. Do you know of a cure for acne? A friend of mine has it."
Hang in there.
Miss Emily.
- Let it all hang out, "Uptight." - Updyke!
- Certainly. - Oh!
"Dear Emily, Since I last wrote you, the man across from me at the south end of Wilton Park has come back.
"He is up to his old tricks - prowling around nights in that foolish costume,
"looking right through me with his x-ray eyes.
Can he kill me with his eyes, or will they only make me sterile?"
Kolchak! Where do you think you're going? I'm goin' out!
I can't stand it. I'm goin' to see what's around the Loop.
What's happening around here is the "Miss Emily" column, not anything on the Loop.
Kolchak! Come back here!
May 26. Laramie Street. 3:55 a.m. Chicago.
Miss Laura Maresco: Age 24, a masseuse.
She was fond of stuffed animals and had been given one as a gift...
by an exceptionally satisfied customer.
She was anxious to get home and find a place for it in her bedroom.
Code 5. All cars respond.
Homicide suspect on building at intersection of Laramie and Pulaski.
Detain all matching description.
Code 5. Code 5.
All cars respond.
Hey! Where do you think you're goin'? You can't drive over the sidewalk!
Press! I.N.S.!
Get more light on that rooftop!
Where's Bolton? We need a marksman with a scope!
Unit 3! Unit 3! Cover the back alley!
- Grab him! Grab him! - Get his legs!
Get a rope! Get a rope! Watch that arm!
- Get him by the legs! - Give it to me!
May 28. 1:00 a.m.
They had the Ripper trapped, treed and cornered, but he got away.
And later, no one could agree on what they saw.
Yeah, yeah. Yeah?
Well? Nothin'.
Nothin'. It's just-just sheer mud.
What'd I do wrong? That pocket strobe light you got won't reach over 20 feet,
so you just got a lot of headlights.
Some nice shots of the back of his head.
Yeah, well, send me up the prints when they're dry, will you?
You want these? Would I ask?
Anything you say.
Carl?
I think you've missed the tone of "Dear Emily."
These answers are a little terse, almost cynical.
Like this one, for instance. "Dear Exhausted, You have an X-rated boyfriend.
Tell him to clean up his act or get booked in another house."
Come on. That's just not Emily.
What do you think you're doing?
"Late last night, the brutal murder of Laura Maresco, 24"-
That's not your assignment. That's somebody else's assignment.
You are Miss Emily. Miss Emily, remember?
Who'd you assign it to? Updyke.
You didn't! You wouldn't! Yes, I did, and it's his assignment.
You could learn an awful lot from Ron Updyke.
He was financial editor for five years. Financial adviser, huh?
Yeah. Mortgages, interest rates, soybean futures.
What has that got to do with the news?
It was horrible. Horrible.
Have you got any background on the murdered girl, Ron?
She's dead. Throat cut.
Her head was nearly severed from her body.
Did you get that from the coroner's report?
I got it from a reporter from the Herald.
He actually saw the body.
He saw the body.
Well, what did you do, Ron?
Well, I went to where she was... murdered.
- It was- - Horrible?
Exactly. May I go home?
Go home, Ron. Thank you.
Yeah.
Horrible.
And that's about all we have in the way of positive information...
on the homicide at this time.
In the meantime, a description of the suspect is being circulated,
and we expect to have more information in 48 hours.
- Uh. Question. Question. - Good day, gentlemen.
- Question. Question. - Take your hat off.
Can you explain how the suspect jumped from the top of a four-story building and survived?
There are a number of possible explanations. The fall might have been broken by something.
He might have dropped from a lower floor, fire escape.
Might have, but didn't. I know. I was there. I saw it.
I also saw him make scrap metal out of one of your patrol cars.
Don't you worry about our patrol cars.
As I think Mr. Vincenzo explained to you, you're not the police commissioner.
I've given you all I have on the subject. Thank you, gentlemen.
I'm no gentleman. What about the letter? When can I publish it?
When it comes out of analysis, you'll be the first to know.
What letter? A letter from the Ripper.
If it's from the Ripper, how come you've got it?
Because it's evidence, Mr. Kolchak. Evidence.
Well, if it's from the Ripper, it's also news, Mr. Warren. News.
Captain Warren. Take your hat off.
What-What makes it so special, Captain?
I mean, every newspaper in town's been getting Ripper letters from these kooks.
This may shock you, Mr. Kolchak,
but we withheld from the press certain things the Ripper did to Miss Laura Maresco's body.
Now, the letter that Miss Plumm received...
describes in detail what those things were.
Do you grasp the implication? Well-
Now, Miss Plumm's newspaper has agreed to withhold the letter...
in the interest of responsible journalism.
May I ask the same consideration from you all?
Jane Plumm is fat.
She talks a lot about water retention, big bones,
but I have to believe the six or eight meals a day...
with snacks in-between to keep up her strength has a lot to do with it.
And Plumm is a reporter however.
We have mutual respect, mutual trust.
I don't trust you, Kolchak.
You'd double-cross your own fairy godmother for a story.
Why, Jane, how can you say a thing like that?
Now, you know me better than that.
Tell me. Tell me, what was in the letter? What have you got to trade?
How about a sack of "Dear Emily" letters...
sodden with the tears of humanity?
Great reference material. Four novels in it at the very least.
I'll have a tongue sandwich- triple-decker-
a side of fries, macaroni salad,
a root beer float- two scoops-
and a piece of pecan pie.
Chili.
My editor wants me to come up with a series of features on the murders,
but I can't come up with an angle.
You know the sort of junk we print- lurid, sensational.
Got any ideas? Yeah. Lots of'em.
- Well? - Well?
Okay.
Besides what Warren said, the letter also had a P.S. - A rhyme.
"And now a pretty girl will die so Jack can have his kidney pie."
- I don't get it. - The murderer cut out her kidneys.
Just like the original Ripper.
There have been a lot of these mutilation murders all over the world.
It's a contagious psychosis. Oh, Jane.
That's my theory, and I've checked it out with a few psychiatrists.
There's a definite pattern to the killings.
They seem to come in bunches. Hookers?
Mostly. Some semipros.
There was an Italian who specialized in flower girls. Mm-hmm.
- Dismembered five of them. - Okay. I got a great headline for you.
"Cannibalism!"
Cannibalism.
- Oh! I love it. - Mm-hmm.
Thanks, Kolchak.
May 29. 11:00 p.m. The Loop.
Chicago's answer to Times Square. Miles of neon, crowds, excitement...
and the usual big-city tourist traps.
And that night, a very unusual tourist.
You can have the hot oil rub with or without the vibrator and sauna.
There's also the regular massage with talcum.
You wait in the room on the right.
I'll be right with you.
Cheryl? Watch the desk. I got a customer.
He's weird. He's weird.
Press.
Ron Updyke. Independent News Service.
How tall was he? Press. Pardon me.
Press.
Can you describe what the man was wearing?
Press.
Hmm.
Oh! Excuse me.
Oh. Oh.
Where's the men's room?
Where do you think you're goin'? Carl Kolchak, I.N.S. Remember?
You got a man there already. No, no. That's a mistake.
No. He handles want ads. I got orders.
Oh, now, look. Captain Warren and I may have had our little - Move along. Move along.
It-It says-
All right, all right, all right!
Hey, wh-what happened?
I was doin' about 30. A man runs out into the street.
I hit him. In a cape yet.
Where is he?
Tell him. He walked away.
- Walked away? - You're right. Nobody'd believe it.
Yeah, you're right. Nobody would believe it.
Carl. Your friend Jane- Jane Plumm.
Yeah? That's a feature lead?
"The Ripper Murders: A Psychopathic Cannibal?"
Hey, that's very good. She was looking for a good angle.
It's a shame that Updyke- or Uptight- couldn't come up with as good a story.
She offered to meet the Ripper and guarantee his safety, on his terms.
No kidding? Well, if I were him, I'd meet her anyplace but a restaurant.
What are you reading? What are you reading there? Nothing. It's just-
It's a- It's a, uh-
"Ripper Murderers Throughout the Ages. '"
"While most Ripper murderers were insanely courageous at their execution,
New York Ripper Eugene Lang went into a frenzy and escaped."
How many times do I have to tell you, Kolchak? This is not your story.
Why do you behave like a four-year-old?
- I know it's not my story, Tony. - Then what are you doing with this rot?
- Helping Updyke. - He doesn't need any help. He's not helpless.
No. L-I'm doing research for him. Let him do his own research.
He can't. He's a "bibliophiliac." Huh?
He-He's, uh, persona non grata down at the library.
- He's what? - Yeah. Yeah.
You see, he takes books out.
He's got half the books in the library out, and they're all overdue.
As a matter of fact, they've got a warrant out for his arrest.
Well, that's not like Ron.
Oh, I know, I know. I was terribly disturbed about it when I heard.
I don't know. It must be some kind of a deep-seated illness,
a compulsion of sorts, I guess.
Bibliophiliac.
- Biblio- - Yeah.
Well, whatever Updyke is suffering from, what about the "Miss Emily" letters?
They're all taken care of. Are they?
Oh, sure. Yeah. That's-That's the only reason that I had time to help Ron.
You see, Tony, what I've been trying to do here in the office...
is establish a kind of an atmosphere of friendly relationships- a rapport.
Lord knows, life is hard enough...
without all of that quibbling and nasty arguing.
Well, I know mine certainly is.
Mm. Well, I'm glad to hear it.
- Anything you can do to further that end- - I'm glad you understand, Tony.
Where are you going? Uh, furthering that end.
I'm going down to the, uh, periodicals room of the main library...
to look up a few articles for, uh, Ron.
I'll, uh- I'll see you around.
You think you get screwball letters in the Dear Emilys?
I am personally interviewing guys who claim to be the Ripper.
I'm up to number 19.
You are being very foolish, Jane. You are being dumb, Plumm.
It's worth it. I get a feature byline,
and I get to meet some interesting guys.
Yeah? Weird, but interesting.
That rag of yours- how can they let you take chances like this?
You're liable to get yourself killed.
Ah, you sweetheart.
- You're worried about me. - Yeah, I'm worried about you.
Don't be.
What are you gonna do, kill him with jelly beans?
This would stop a love-crazed moose in his tracks.
So it should be enough to stopJack. Put that thing away, will you?
There's no chance. All these guys operate exactly the same way-
almost as if they were the same man.
That'd make him older than your suit, and that is saying a lot.
- I'm serious. - That'd make him over 130 years old.
- Right. - Wrong. It's a simple contagious psychosis.
Have I told you about my theory? Yeah. Yeah, Jane.
Yeah, you've told me all about your theory. Yeah. Now you listen to mine.
Now, they-they caught a Ripper in Germany, one of many.
And they tried to hang him. They had a little trouble with the rope.
However- Here, let me show you some pictures.
Here. I got- Here.
See? See? Right there. What? Where?
On his throat. Right there. Can't you see it? Look. Right there.
It's a rope burn. Could be a rope burn.
Yeah. Could also be a carbuncle.
Okay.
Each one of these Rippers has killed five women. Correct? Hmm?
Even you yourself said that your Italian "flower girl" Ripper killed five, hmm?
So? So our Chicago Ripper has got two victims left.
If his pattern follows, he's gonna get both of them tonight.
Not before I get my story. I'm interviewing three potential Rippers tonight.
And besides, he's not gonna kill anybody. He promised.
Oh, he promised. Oh, that's great. That's-That's just great.
No, it's true. He sent me another poem-
same thing that was written on the massage parlor mirror.
"Jack is resting, be reborn, to finish up on Wednesday morn."
Jane, listen to me. Don't get involved in this.
Now, he wrote the same thing in London,
and then he struck the night before in exactly the same place.
Yeah, Kolchak, but that was the real Jack the Ripper.
Well, uh- Uh-
Excuse me. I, uh- I'll take, uh-
Uh, yeah, number seven.
Do you have that? Yeah, it's my lucky number.
This way, please.
Are you a tennis player? Uh, what? No. No, why?
Because your shoes are so funny.
I run a lot. Ah, I see.
Uh- Miss, uh-
Wh-Wh-What's your name? Susan? Susan. Susan.
Listen, Susan, I didn't - I didn't really come here for a massage.
You didn't? No.
See, I think something is gonna happen here tonight.
It could happen right here in this room.
And you wanna be here with your camera and recorder.
That's right. Now, if there's someplace that I could wait.
Hide. I wouldn't disturb anybody.
Where you could watch. That's right.
Oh, no, no. Don't get- Don't get the wrong idea.
Please. My name is Carl Kolchak.
Hello, Carl. Hi, Susan.
I'm Officer Cortazzo, and you're under arrest.
Phil! What?
Shame on you, Kolchak.
Now, wait.
Lewd proposal. He wanted to watch me with someone.
Wait a minute. Phil, come on. You know me.
I always thought you were straight, Kolchak.
Well, I am str- I am straight.
Huh. These are his too, Phil. Look-
Is Warren gonna love this. Wait. Phil, now, wait a minute.
Would I be caught dead in a place like this if I weren't here under assignment?
Now- Look-Look- Now, wait a minute.
This is all a mistake. Will you let me put my shoes on?
Please. Look, will you please let me- There's glass all over the joint here!
Look-Look-Wait. Where-Where's Phil? Where's Phil?
Phil knows I'm innocent. I don't like to watch girls.
You don't like to watch girls? No, I don't - No, and I'm not that way either.
Wait a minute. Wait. Get 'im outta here.
Now, wait! Listen. Listen, fellas. Can I tell you something? This is all a mistake.
June 2. 1:20 a.m.
Warren's plan was to get me out of the way, and it seemed to be working.
I lucked out, and five minutes later I was back in the middle of the action,
just in time to watch Chicago's elite TAC squad...
trying to pin down one man- without any success.
There he is up there.
Look out! Look out! He's comin'down!
Look out! Watch out! Watch out!
Watch out! Stay away from the hot fence!
I hope you found our accommodations to your liking.
Terrific. Thank you for your patience, Captain.
My film. You exposed my film. We open all containers.
L - I had pictures of the Ripper. You can take some more at his arraignment.
Arraignment? Do you think this is a run-of-the-mill kook you can go out and arrest?
Yes, I do. You do. Well, you're wrong.
You can't, you won't, and you'll never be able to.
Oh, boy. No, no. Wait a minute, Tony.
This guy just doesn't think he's the Ripper. He is the Ripper.
Have you ever heard ofJack the Ripper?
Let me see if I understand you. Are you saying that our Ripper...
is the same man who killed those seven women in London in the 1880s?
1888 to be precise. And it was five- always five women.
He killed five women in and around the Place Pigalle in Paris...
in the summer of 1888.
Yeah. As a matter of fact,
he has killed, mutilated and maimed over 70 women during the past 80 years...
in 25 major cities from Vladivostok to Milwaukee.
I'd better tell Doc Harris to stand by.
I think we got a nut that needs certifying.
For once be a cop instead of an ostrich!
They tried to hang him in Germany, and they couldn't.
On August 14, in 1904,
a crack-shot, 12-man Athenian firing squad...
tried three times to execute him and couldn't.
Okay.
Okay, let's just take Chicago, for example, right?
Now, he has killed three women.
He has jumped off of a four-story building and survived.
He has been hit by an automobile going 30 miles an hour.
And he has taken on your crack TAC squad...
in a tooth-and-nail confrontation.
Now, do you mean to tell me you're just gonna sit there...
and tell me that this is just an ordinary guy you can go out and arrest?
I can safely say that, Kolchak.
Well, then you're sitting on your brains!
Your superman is upstairs on the maximum-security floor.
I wanna see that prisoner.
Kolchak, he's in maximum security.
You know what maximum security means? Nobody goes in. Nobody goes out.
That prisoner- he just broke out of maximum security!
Uh-huh! Huh? Uh-huh! Sure.
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Yeah. Yeah, operator, I'm still holding.
Thanks. Jane's paper hasn't heard from her since this morning.
Talk to this guy when he gets on, will you? About what?
About the chair- the electric chair. Find out when it first went into use.
You were a reporter. Dig. Go on, dig.
Oh, Bob? Uh, Captain Warren. You still here? You must like it.
Maybe you should spend a night in the slammer.
It's a wild goose chase if you try to shoot that guy.
We did it once. We can do it again. You did it once, and he smashed down a steel door.
How'd he do that? He had an accomplice on the outside.
He had an accomplice on the outside? What's happening?
Will you shut up a minute! Not you. There's somebody else here. I talked to one of the guys on the TAC squad.
It's that fence- the electrified fence. That's what stopped him.
What'd you find out? What? 1908.
Think. In 1908, in New York City, they caught a Ripper.
I don't have time for this. No. You gotta - You better make time for it.
Because that's one thing that he's got plenty of.
And if you don't stop him now, he's gonna go on forever.
You're an absurd man, Kolchak.
Listen, it's electricity. Don't you understand?
That's the only thing he was scared of in New York City in 1908. Do you know why?
Because he was scared of the electric chair. That's why.
The rest of those guys went to their deaths with smiles on their face.
Hello, Mrs. Plumm? This is Carl Kolchak. Is Jane there?
Well, I'm worried about her too. Where is she? You have any idea?
Uh-huh. Yeah. Belmont Harbor. The fire department p-
Get-Get a piece of paper. Excuse me. Not you, Mrs. Plumm.
Yeah. The fire department pier on the Chicago River. Yeah.
And Wilton Park. Thank you very much. Thank you, Mrs. Plumm. Bye.
And Wilton Park. Wilton Park!
Kolchak? Kolchak!
You got change for a quarter?
Is that you, Jack?
What in the world are you looking for?
Nothing. I'm looking for nothing.
Mr. Vincenzo took them away from you.
- Took what away? - What you're looking for.
- What? - The "Dear Emily" letters.
What'd he do with them? I'm not gonna tell you.
Uptight. Updyke.
If you think that you were sickened by the murder of that girl,
just imagine-just think how sickened you're gonna be at your own murder!
Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me! What-
Oh. Mr. Vincenzo.
The only elevator is out again. Yes, terrible.
Mr. Vincenzo, it's almost 10:00.
Yeah, yeah. Maybe you've forgotten - my Ripper feature.
The one I put on your desk- the one you said you'd read.
I read it, Updyke. I read it.
If it's to go out over the wire for the morning editions, it'll have to go out by 10:00.
10:00. Yeah, yeah. What? Oh, yeah, sure. 10:00.
I thought I'd put it on the Teletype as is. It has been proofed.
It's gonna need more than proofing, Ron.
Has Kolchak come back? Uh- I didn't tell him.
What do you think you're doing, Carl?
What does it look like I'm doing, playing jacks?
It's on blue paper. What's on blue paper?
A "Dear Emily" letter, postmarked about the eighth.
It's almost 10:00. I have to send it. Go ahead, Ron.
The eighth? You mean there are letters there that have gone unanswered since the eighth?
Sloppy. Sloppy. Ron, hold it. Wait a minute.
What about this letter? What's so important about it.
A woman wrote a letter to "Dear Emily" complaining about her neighbor who had X-ray eyes.
She lives in Wilton Park. Wilton Park!
Will you get off your upholstered seat and help me!
Mr. Vincenzo, what's wrong with my story?
It reads like an expose of a massage parlor, Ron.
That's my angle - what really goes on inside a massage parlor.
The excessive sensuality, the suggestive costumes.
Blue. Blue! They have mirrors in the ceilings.
No. As a matter of fact, they're antique gold. The paper. Blue paper.
What about the murders? Frankly, there's not too much to say about them.
No one even cares to discuss it, and I can certainly see why.
That's it! That's the one! Leave everything just the way it is.
I'll come back and clean it up.
- What do you think about it? - Weren't you on your way to the john, Updyke?
What do you want?
Miss Aganweiler? My name's Carl Kolchak.
I'm with the Independent News Service. I'm here about your "Miss Emily" letter.
Uh, oh, yes. Go to the end of the walk. What?
The end of the walk. The end of the walk?
Come on up. I'm number four.
Turn right at the top of the stairs.
Miss Aganweiler, here's your letter.
Show me some I.D. I.D.
Uh-huh. I.D. Carl Kolchak. See?
Okay. Okay.
Well, it's really more than I expected from the paper.
Yeah. I read that column all the time.
Uh-huh? Over here.
Oh, yes. What a charming apartment you have.
Yes. Is this all you do for Miss Emily?
Do? Well, you know, check on weirdos.
Well-
There's his house, right over there.
Old x-ray eyes himself. Uh-huh.
Never goes out in the daytime.
- Only goes out at night. - Ah.
Yes, indeed.
Was he out tonight? Yes, he-he was.
Uh,
9:22. I've got him clocked for the whole month.
Yeah, I see you have. I see you have indeed.
Mean anything? Yeah. Certain of these names and dates in here...
coincide with some rather... unusual events.
Uh, what happened tonight?
Well, he met this girl, right down below there in the park.
What'd she look like? Fat.
Fat? Sort of fat.
Thank you very much.
And here's the postscript.
When they drained that pond, they found nothing-
nothing but some old clothes.
For some reason, the police suddenly decided they wanted those... and my head.
I don't know how Vincenzo will handle the charges of arson and malicious mischief...
lodged against me by Captain Warren,
but that fire was a big one- a six-alarmer.
A blast furnace couldn't have done a better job.
Everything gone- the house, my story, the evidence.
Like they say, ashes to ashes.
One thing survived the inferno however.
There's enough of it left to read the name of the maker.
Peele's Footwear, London, Southwest 1.
They're still there, of course, but they don't make this style shoe anymore.
It was discontinued over 70 years ago.
Seventy... years... ago.
How could you explain it?
Who could explain it?
Who'd believe it?