Mrs. Robinson and the Butcher of White Chapel

An unexpected discovery

She opened the door and walked in, waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. At first, she wasn't able to distinguish anything suspect or weird. But a powerful and disgusting smell almost made her faint. She covered her nose, and kept walking inside. She was followed by the inspector and his assistant :
"Mrs. Robinson ? What's wrong ?", he asked as he stopped in front of the staircase. She was shaking badly :
"There's something upstairs... It smells... Awful..."
"Then what are you waiting for ?! Go !" The inspector said in an angry tone. The assistant whispered :
"That must be something rotting..."
"Mr Jones...", Mrs. Robinson asked "Could you... Accompany me ? I... I have a really bad feeling about this..."
"Sure ! Inspector ! Let's go !" Mc Logan shrugged, and went upstairs with the young lady and Mr Jones. It was pitch black :
"Jesus ! I wish I had brought my flashlight with me... I can't see anything !" Jones mumbled.
Suddenly, Mrs. Robinson started coughing hard. The smell became even stronger. The inspector started to feel nauseous, and covered his mouth and nose with his handkerchief. Jones looked at Mrs Robinson, who was quacking in fear again. She was standing in front of a door and remained silent :
"Mrs Robinson... May I... Open the door ?", asked the inspector, as he pressed his fingers against it. But he quickly pulled away. He felt something. Something sticky... On the door... He couldn't tell what it was. Maybe paint ? Or glue ?
"What on earth..." He mumbled.
"Aaaaaah, I knew it ! I shouldn't have come here !", Mrs Robinson said, backing up. The inspector pushed the door gently, and as it opened slowly, the disgusting smell became even more unbearable. While the inspector was opening the door, Jones managed to find the switch and turned the light on. The inspector took a look at the door and his fingers : he suddenly realized that the sticky substance he accidentally touched... Was dried blood. Moreover, Mrs Robinson yelled in terror. They saw it. The corpse of the man they had been searching for weeks. Chopped into pieces, his bowels spread on the walls of the room. Mr Jones fainted, and Mrs Robinson hid behind the inspector : he was just standing there, like a marble statue in a museum. After a long silence, he whispered :
"The Butcher of White Chapel... Hoisted on his own game... The law of Nature : to chop... Or being chopped..."