Preceded by: A goodbye to something that never was
Takes place after the end of season 4


They were filthy dirty creatures and seeing them made him feel as filthy and dirty. They had to pay, all of them, that one first.
He moved closer to the prey, slowly as not to scare. It was too easy. Not even a struggle. Oh how he enjoyed the feeling of the first strike going in. The feeling of the flesh yielding under his power.
She was right, he was going to love this.


The phone woke him. His head pounded and it took Chandler a few minutes to realize where that god-awful sound was coming from.

- "Chandler", he answered with a thick gravelly voice. He looked at the clock. 4.41. Too early for anything but police matters.

- "You have a new case". The sharp voice on the other end belonged to Commander Anderson.

- "OK where am I supposed to go?" Chandler tried to move but his head punished him straight away. Why had he finished the whole bottle? The memories of last night's failure came rushing back. Yeah right, that's why.

- "In Whitechapel".

- "But sir! I'm not going to stay!" Chandler felt the panic grow inside of him. Please don't force me to go back, he thought.

- "I need you to do one last case. Do this well and I can move you wherever you want. It could even mean a promotion."

- "I don't think I have it in me, sir. I don't think I can stand one more day at that place."

- "Don't be a fool, Joseph! Just sober up and get out there. The son of an old friend has been found dead by Whitechapel road. You might even remember him, Clive Griffith's son, Philip."

Clive Griffith was the Deputy Assistant Commissioner, and had been a friend of Chandler's father. He hadn't seen him since his father died, one of the many acquaintances that had disappeared after the suicide. Chandler had met Philipas a child, probably played with him. He could hardly remember anything about the boy and knew nothing about the man he had become.

- "It needs to be kept quiet", Commander Anderson continued, "or at least some things do, some details of his way of life."

- "But sir". Chandler felt himself whine like a teenager, and it made him recall older conversions between them where the commander had played the role of a father reprimanding and guiding him. Usually it had been enough for Anderson to say, 'It is what your father would have wanted', to get Chandler to comply.

- "Do this or stay in Whitechapel for ever." The determination in the commanders voice told Chandler that he had no choice. He had to obey although he didn't like to be back under Commander Anderson's control. He had been comfortable with being forgotten these past years. Of course he was never completely forgotten. They had meet for some occasionally diners or at his mother's but professionally Chandler had been cut off. Taking on this case could mean that Chandler was put back on the plan, and under the guiding wings of Commander Anderson. He didn't know if he wanted that. But Chandler needed Commander Anderson on his side to get out of Whitechapel and right now that was the most important thing for him.

- "Fine sir, But after this one you will have me transferred, agreed?"

-"Yes yes, Just go to Clive Griffith's home. He wants to talk to you before you do anything else."

Chandler ended the call and willed himself out of bed and into the shower. His head was killing him. He leaned his forehead against the tiles, hoping that their coldness would give him some relief. It didn't. He hated the idea of going back the incident room. There was an evil in the Whitechapel police station that he couldn't fight, he didn't know how to. It wasn't according to his normal character to give up, to run away but he felt at the end of his tether with nothing left to give. Chandler just wanted to be done with everything and everyone that was Whitechapel.

Kent's face and voice flashed before his eyes. 'Was it all just me?'. No, no not that as well. Chandler turned up the heat as high as it went, hoping that that warm, almost boiling, water would relieve him from thoughts. It didn't. The rooftop conversation still swirled around in his head. He had to push it down. No good would come from recalling the words spoken the night before. Both him and Kent had said things that should have been left unsaid. Things with deeper meaning that could destroy everything, that were prohibited.

- "Snap out of it", Chandler said it to himself out loud. "You can and you will conquer all of this."


It would have taken him even longer to get ready if he wasn't so hung over. The headache made the compulsions not so obsessive, but still it had take him two showers, four change of clothes and 50 on and off switches before he could leave the apartment with something that at least resembled control. He had called Miles from the car.

- "We have a special case", he said. "I'll swing by and pick you up."

- "I'll ring the others then?" asked Miles on the other end,

- "No, they don't have to come, have them finish the paperwork of the Abrahamians. We aren't going to a crime scene. SOCO are already done with it. We are to see the family of the deceased"

-"Ah that kind of special case", said Miles when Chandler had told him which family there where to met.


Clive Griffith was a man who was used to commanding. You could tell as soon as you saw him, it was almost as if he had the uniform on underneath the regular clothes he was wearing that morning. He stood in the middle of the small living room where Chandler and Miles had been escorted when they entered the house. The room was facing the west and the first streaks of daylight hit the floor. It made the room look warm and welcoming and totally unsuited for the conversation they were about to have. Clive Griffith looked them up and down, scrutinizing them.

- "So you are Chandlers boy", he said with a voice without emotions. "Anderson vouch for you, says that you will uphold absolute discretion. Can the same thing be said about your team?" Griffith's eyes turned to Miles, with a expression of disapproval over his face.

Chandler could feel Miles grunt angrily at his side.

- "Well of course sir," he said before Miles could lash out. "They are all professional."

- "Very well then," said Clive and walked up to a window. His wife Marjorie was sitting in the sofa, quietly fiddling with a spoon that belonged to the tea set placed on the table in front of her. Her eyes were red from crying. She sat quietly while Clive Griffith continued to speak. He was still facing the garden behind the house.

- "Last night at shortly after 4 o'clock Philip was found dead with multiple stab wounds to torso and legs. He was found by a barman behind the Rhythm factory, a gay bar." The last words were spit out as if they left an awful taste in the Deputy Assistant Commissioner mouth. "Philip was an addict and have been selling his body to other men for years.

- "When did you last see him?", asked Chandler.

- "Philip left my house at 16, after declaring his life choice. I haven't seen him since." Griffith sounded proud of that fact. Chandler's dislike grew stronger by each word the other man said.

- "And you Mrs Griffith', have you had contact with Philip since then?" The women only shook her head as an answer. She looked completely destroyed.

- "So you are telling me that you know nothing about your son's life the past 15-20 years?" Chandler said with astonishment.

- "I've already told you, Phillip was a homosexual that sold himself for drugs." Clive Griffith said dryly. "He wasn't the sort of person we would associate with. We know nothing about him."

- "You don't know where he lives, who his friends were, if he had any enemies?"

- "As I said, nothing at all."

- "Then why was it so important for us to come here first?" Chandler said almost annoyed. They needed to talk to people who could shed some light on the murder so that they could solve it quickly and Chandler could get transferred. This had to be a quick case.

- "It is of the uppermost importance that all of this is handled discreetly. I don't want to be reading about Phillips life in the papers, having him flaunted as the gay son of the Deputy Assistant Commissioner to all of England. It's important that you understand this." Griffith fixed his eyes hard on Chandler. "One word out of place and you and everyone on your team are finished."

- "I don't take well to threats!" Chandler said sharply. "Me and my team are going to investigate Phillips death the same way we would any other murder case. We are professionals."

- "So you've said but that wasn't really the case during the Ripper murders was it? I'm putting my career and reputations in your hands."

- "Our priority is to found the person that murdered Philip Griffith. Not to protect your reputation."

- "Philip Black, he goes by his mother's maiden name, Black," the Deputy Assistant Commissioner corrected.

- "Went" Miles interrupted with smug grin, in turn correcting Clive Griffith.

- "What?"

- "Your son," Miles said it forcefully as to remind the other man that Philip had been his son, "WENT by his mother's maiden name. He's dead now."

Griffith just shrugged at Miles remark and continued: - "I had an alert out on Philip Black, so that I would be told every time he got picked up or arrested. I wanted to have a heads up if any embarrassment where to arise. I knew this day would come sooner or later."

- "You knew your son would be murdered? And you did nothing to stop it?" The disbelief was plain in Miles voice.

- "Well of course not. But I knew he end up dead in some filthy ditch or alley. It is what awaits people like him, what they have coming for them.

- "Clive!" It was the first words Mrs Griffith had uttered during the interview.

- "Bloody hell, that's what happens to drug addicts and prostitutes, isn't it? It was his bloody choice not mine." Clive Griffith screamed at his wife. It was the first sign of emotion in the man.

Before showing Chandler and Miles out of his home, Clive Griffith locked his gaze at Chandler: - "You have a reputation of having your suspects die on you, DI Chandler. It would be good if this thing never got to court. A dead killer would be a very pleasing result indeed."


- "Bloody horrid man that one" Miles said when he sat down in Chandler's car.

- "He didn't seem to have much affections for his son."

- "To hate one's child just for being gay. I can't understand it. If my son came home with a bloke I would just pull out a few lagers and tell them to watch the game with me."

Chandler gave the other man a warm smile.

- "Not all are as good father as you, Miles, not all are as inclusive."

-"How would your father have reacted to you?"

- "Miles, I've told you I'm not gay." Chandler said it with firmness.

- "Yeah I've heard that, but if it had been you and your ole' man, had he reacted the same way?"

- "To a degree. I don't think he would have turned me out at 16 and cut me off, but he wanted me to raise in the ranks, you can't do that as a gay man, can you?"

- "I don't see why. Times are changing."

- "But men like Deputy Assistant Commissioner Griffith aren't. The future of British police still can't be gay."

They sat quietly, with London passing by outside the car windows as they made their way back to the station. Chandler had a knot in his stomach that only got larger as they got closer to the station. His headache got worse and he started to see red flashes in the corner of his eyes. He need to wash his hands and change his shirt before he could face Kent. NO! The team, before he could face the team! Chandler corrected his own thoughts. Why should facing Kent be any worse than the rest of them, or walk into the station itself? It wouldn't he told himself and ignored that the knot grew bigger and harder when he thought of Kent.


Thank you for reading. This is going to be a multi chapter case fiction with romance and suspense. I'll hope it will be to your liking.
Feel free to review! I'll will gladly take any help to make this story better.