Statement of Mrs Ellen Spragg, Flower Seller

I keep my pitch on the corner of Whitechapel Road and Osborn Street, on the south side, directly opposite Mr Cribb's shop. I was there from eight o'clock, selling the last of my violets. The fog was thick — I could barely see the lamp post ten yards along. Around half past nine I heard a shout, muffled-like, from across the road, but I could see nothing through the murk. I packed my basket and left at a quarter to ten.

Statement of Mr Josiah Fleet, Night Watchman

I was making my rounds along Whitechapel Road, heading east from the London Hospital end. At approximately twenty past nine I passed Mr Cribb's shop and saw him through the window, bent over his counter examining something with his loupe. A tallow candle was burning beside him. I continued eastward. At half past nine, as I reached the corner of New Road, I heard a cry but with the fog I could not tell the direction. I turned back and reached the shop perhaps ten minutes later, finding the door ajar and Mr Cribb on the floor behind his counter.

Statement of Mr Patrick Dooley, Cab Driver

I was waiting for a fare on the cab rank opposite the church on Whitechapel Road, some hundred yards west of Mr Cribb's shop. My horse was restless on account of the fog. At perhaps twenty-five minutes past nine, I saw a figure step out from the recessed doorway of the pawnbroker's and walk briskly east along the pavement. The figure wore a long dark coat and a billycock hat. I noted it only because the man walked with a pronounced limp, dragging his left foot. I saw no one else enter or leave the shop.