London’s greatest detective suspects the city’s most infamous killer of a gruesome new murder
Croxley Mews is a typical London street: narrow, winding, and dark. Sherlock Holmes has never trod its cobblestones—until the day a woman is found lying dead on them. It is a murder gruesome enough to shock even the battle-hardened Dr. Watson, who has never before seen a woman disemboweled. It looks unmistakably like the handiwork of that notorious murderer who stalked the alleys of Whitechapel a decade before. Holmes is not fazed. He caught Jack the Ripper once—and he will do so again.
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At the height of the Ripper murders, Holmes was called in by his brother Mycroft to catch the killer, whose social position made him impossible to arrest. The killer was exiled, but now he may have returned—bringing all the terrors of the apocalypse in his wake.
Croxley Mews is a typical London street: narrow, winding, and dark. Sherlock Holmes has never trod its cobblestones—until the day a woman is found lying dead on them. It is a murder gruesome enough to shock even the battle-hardened Dr. Watson, who has never before seen a woman disemboweled. It looks unmistakably like the handiwork of that notorious murderer who stalked the alleys of Whitechapel a decade before. Holmes is not fazed. He caught Jack the Ripper once—and he will do so again.
Â
At the height of the Ripper murders, Holmes was called in by his brother Mycroft to catch the killer, whose social position made him impossible to arrest. The killer was exiled, but now he may have returned—bringing all the terrors of the apocalypse in his wake.
