Sinistrari

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

COURT NUMBER ONE, CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT, LONDON, ENGLAND

MAY 26th, 1888

PULLING OPEN THE STRINGS OF A BLACK VELVET BAG, THE JUDGE’S CLERK, withdrew a square of black silk from within and then took up station behind the chair of the judge, Mister Justice Knox-Porter. The crowded courtroom hushed in deadly expectation. Knox-Porter allowed the silence to deepen even further before addressing the prisoner at the Dock.

‘Edward James Sinistrari, this court has found you guilty of the most savage crimes, guilty beyond any shadow of doubt of the ritualistic and s******c murders of Mary Margaret Hopwell, Alice Newton, Susan Siddons and Katherine Anne Pellew, crimes the foulness of which beggar the imagination. Do you have anything to say before the sentence of this court is passed upon you?’ His voice, strong with righteous conviction, echoed around the oak panelled courtroom.

Sinistrari contemptuously brushed at the lapels of his immaculately cut black frock coat and then consulted his heavy gold hunter pocket watch before speaking, barely deigning to look up at the judge, his voice heavy with arrogant scorn. ‘I do not recognise you. I do not recognise this court. I do not recognise the judgement of this court – whatever it may be.’

Sinistrari suddenly raised his left arm and gave the Judge the sign of the Hex, the Evil Eye, the middle and third fingers bent and held onto the palm by his thumb whilst the first and little fingers stretched out straight, pointing into the eyes of Mister Justice Knox-Porter. ‘Do your worst, pathetic fool,’ Sinistrari shouted in a ringing voice, ‘I shall see you in Hell.’

Women in the crowded balcony screamed, the high-pitched shrieks of terror searing at the nerves and many in the courtroom flinched and blanched. Another scream echoed the first. Sinistrari, his eyes flaring yellow with hate, turned to the police officer who had brought about his arrest, Detective Chief Inspector Charles Collingwood, who sat in the second row behind the lawyer’s benches and gave him the sign of the hex as well. ‘In Hell, Collingwood, I’ll see you in Hell.’

Collingwood gave no indication he had even heard Sinistrari as the Judge pounded the desk with his gavel, demanding silence as a startled buzz, tinged with fear and superstition, swept around the courtroom.

‘SILENCE! SILENCE! Silence or I shall have this courtroom cleared. SILENCE!’

A reluctant hush settled on the court, whispers dying out slowly in sibilant hisses that seemed louder than they were.

‘Silence,’ the Judge demanded again, holding up his hand as he glared around his courtroom, daring any to speak, cough, or even shuffle their feet. Sinistrari smirked in amused disdain, slowly peeling a grey kidskin glove from his hand to buff his fingernails against the lapels of his coat. Satisfied at last, Mister Justice Knox-Porter sat up straight and assumed a severe magisterial face as his clerk placed the square of black silk, the infamous Black Cap, upon his head.

‘Edward James Sinistrari, having justly been found guilty of wilful murder, it is the sentence of this court that you be taken from here to a lawful prison and thence to a place of execution and there suffer death by hanging and that your body be buried in the grounds of the prison where you are held before your execution.’ Sinistrari gazed nonchalantly up at the ceiling as the sentence was passed and then yawned extravagantly, cupping a gloved hand over his mouth as he did so.

‘And may the Lord God have mercy upon your soul.’

‘I rather think not,’ Sinistrari answered languidly, ‘I do rather think not.’

‘Take him down,’ ordered Knox-Porter, crackles of anger and frustration resonant in his voice, incensed that the majesty of the law and judiciary could be dismissed so lightly, so arrogantly.

‘Rot in hell, Sinistrari,’ someone shouted from the galley. Sinistrari’s yellow tinged eyes raked the crowd for the source of the shout and he raised his hand as if to make the sign of the hex again before the duty policemen seized his arms, ready to drag him down to the cells below. Sinistrari shrugged off the restraining hands, straightened his coat and with a last baleful hate filled glance around the courtroom made his way imperiously down the stairs, down to the tiled underground passage that led to the Saltboxes, the condemned cells of Newgate Prison, and a date with the hangman.