A little more than a century ago, someone eviscerated five prostitutes in the Whitechapel area of London. Though suspects abounded among them, Queen Victoria's grandson the case of Jack the Ripper was never solved. Until now? A diary made public by a former scrap-metal dealer from Liverpool purportedly reveals the killer to be a merchant named James Maybrick. But many including Warner Books, which bought and then decided not to publish the manuscript have deemed the document a fraud. Robert Smith, the English publisher, cautiously advises each reader to "decide for yourself." However, it's not that easy. The body of the book, an elaborate, well- researched effort to paint Maybrick as the killer, can be entertaining but ultimately raises as many questions as it answers. Then there is the diary itself, a dull piece of work (despite the odd reference to cannibalism) that lacks any real revelations about the murders. But one thing is certain: the thrill that amateur detectives will get from The Diary of Jack the Ripper: The Discovery, The Investigation, The Debate comparing notes, deciphering bloody initials, and staring at photos of Maybrick as they try to glean the answers from his inscrutable mug. B


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