"Bupkus," Will announced, striding into her office. "No one knows anything. Not that that's anything new."
Helen shot him a warning look as he sat, lounging in the chair on the other side of the desk as he scowled at her.
"They aren't going to tell us anything Magnus, it's pointless to keep trying."
"Are you suggesting we give up?" she asked, her voice carefully schooled and he sighed.
"Of course not," he allowed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "But this is a waste of time."
"A waste of time or a waste of your time?" she asked, now unable to keep the tone of accusation from her voice. She knew her young protégé wasn't happy with her and in some respects she understood it but that didn't mean she had to put up with his pouting. He ought to act like a professional, regardless of what state their personal relationship was in. It wasn't always easy but a man of 35 really ought to be able to hold his tongue a little better than this.
"Both," he said and she had to admire his honesty. "You and I both know no one will tell us anything so continuing to stick our noses in places where they aren't welcome is only going to make things worse."
"Well then," she began, sitting back in her chair to give him a level look. "What exactly do you suggest?"
"In terms of the investigation?" he asked with a resigned sigh. "Leave it to the police. You probably already made a few extra enemies tonight by taking that body. Keep an ear to the abnormal community for any possible leads but other than that, give it to the police to handle. It's their job."
"And?" she prompted, sensing that finally he might be opening up to her.
"And in terms of this new 'journey' you're taking us on..."
Silence fell over them but she refused to break it. He clearly needed to get this off his chest.
"Trust me."
She sighed.
"I do."
"Yeah, with making your tea."
She couldn't stifle a smile at that but as she opened her mouth to respond, her computer beeped softly, drawing her attention.
"Pathology results," she told Will who leaned forwards.
"And?"
She scanned the results for a moment before closing the document and turning back to Will, trying not to grind her teeth in frustration.
"Nothing, as we suspected. Whoever is behind this is leaving no clues at all."
"I just don't see how that can be the case," Will said sceptically. "I mean this is the 10th body found this month, whoever is doing this has got to slip up eventually."
"That depends on his method," Helen countered. "All we know is that he is using a thin knife. How he gets to his victims, how he leaves, all of that is still unknown."
"He's still human," Will argued. "He will screw up eventually. We all do."
"That's right," she said evenly, looking him straight in the eye. She could pin point the exact second he realised what she was getting at, his eyes grew hard and cold as he regarded her.
"Unless he's super human," he all but spat. "Unless he believes himself to be above us mere mortals."
"Regardless," she said, brushing off the barely concealed accusation. "If he is human, he will make a mistake. Whether that is in taking a victim who can be identified or in his method, he will make a mistake."
Will glared at her belligerently, arms crossed but said nothing. Helen waited for a moment, knowing silence was usually the best key to get someone to talk though she knew she shouldn't try that trick on a psychologist.
"Is there anything else?" she asked, her anger bubbling up. He had no right to treat her like this, to goad her into double sided conversations and then let her wallow in guilt she knew she shouldn't have to feel. "Or are we done with the accusations for the day?"
"Yeah, I think we're done," he almost sneered at her, pushing up from the chair lazily. He took one last look over her desk before letting out a soft chuckle.
"Who'd have thought cutting yourself off from every possible authority would have this kind of effect?" he asked lightly, shaking his head as he turned, making to walk from the room.
"If you want to leave William, you are more than welcome to," she hissed, standing up. "While you are a valued employee," she couldn't help but stress the word employee, "I have no interest in forcing you to fulfil a role you do not want."
He paused and she watched as his shoulders slumped, a small well of guilt forming low in her stomach. She probably hadn't needed to be so harsh on him but in a strange way it had felt good to. She'd been putting up with his silent barbs and careful words for too long.
"Can we just not Magnus?" he asked, not turning. "I just..."
"Go," she allowed, her voice coming out a little thicker. He sighed before walking to the door, shutting it softly behind himself.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Helen sat down once more, hands splayed against the dark wood of her desk. She took a moment, burying all of the resent she felt towards her protégé before turning back to the multitude of police reports before her. She had to find something, she simply had to.
Three hours later it was almost midnight and Helen still had nothing. She'd been over everything, every report, every faint trace of a lead, every single word written by both the authorities and the media without luck. No theory seemed to fit, the killings were devoid of any spiritual or cultural significance, the people had no means of identification and, as far as she could tell, nothing to link them except the brutal way in which their lives were taken.
On top of that, the killer was meticulous, leaving not so much as a foot print in the vicinity while there wasn't a single finger print to be found on the mutilated bodies. For someone who was so meticulous, this killer, whoever they were, had a rage within them that flew unchecked during the murders.
Shivering, Helen pushed away from the desk and away from the memories of another such set of murders she'd been privy to. They had said similar things of John. The reports of a meticulous crime scene juxtaposed with the brutality of the actual acts were all too familiar for her. Back then she and James had spent hours poring over reports, reasoning out every possibility until one night when Helen had gone to visit John in Whitechapel only to find him passed out on the bed, covered in blood.
She'd stayed with him, helping him to change and bathe, her fingers trembling as they searched his body for wounds only to freeze as she found none. When he'd come to he'd cried in her arms, sobbing of the horror he'd seen when he'd happened across one of the Ripper's victims. She'd held him tightly as he shook and when his cold lips sought out hers, she hadn't put up a fight. He'd muttered things about needing for her to be alive, about wanting to erase the image from his mind but she hadn't needed such things. The urge to comfort him after what she had assumed was a traumatic event for him had been strong, too strong for her to deny let alone question.
He'd spent the entire night making love to her, his touches sweet and gentle as he brought her more pleasure than she'd believed possible at the time. Now, she shivered thinking about it but never before had he been so attentive to her. Maybe it had been to distract her or as an apology for the things he had done but part of her was forever thankful for him for the kindness he paid her that night. She hadn't known but she'd been pregnant by that point and while the memory of their last night together had haunted her for years to come, it had helped her to remember that there had been a time when she loved John more than anything, that had been a gentle man who had loved her in return.
It hadn't taken them long after that to put it all together. Both she and James had been reluctant to accept that their dear friend was responsible for the crimes, Nikola who had just returned from America was disbelieving too but it had been Nigel who was most resigned about it. He accepted their findings, holding Helen as she cried her heart out. He had put up with her yelling at him, ranting that it couldn't possibly be her fiancé, that it couldn't be John. He had helped her to see that it was.
It couldn't be John, she reminded herself, not this time. John was dead, buried beneath the rubble of Adam's Hollow Earth lab. He was not wandering the streets with that murderous gleam in his eye. They were safe, they were all safe.
It had to be someone else, something else.
Plus this time, those being murdered were not prostitutes or even people who appeared to be linked in anyway. Just because a murderer killed without discretion and with a passion that was stomach turning, didn't mean she needed to relive the memory of her first love's passion for similar activities. It was different this time, it was always different, would always be different.
Just then, the door flew open, pulling Helen from her revere with a gasp. She spun on her heel, eyes wide as both Henry and Will came barrelling in.
"Just spoke to Bruno," Henry wheezed. "Two people... wandering... the streets... one... covered in... blood."
Oooh, more evil cliffhangers, I know! And to those who are worried, don't be, Nikola will be here soon with a smirk and a kiss (or two). Just keep in mind that this is set JUST before Chimera so things aren't going to be all smooth. Teslen still haven't gotten their shiz together at this point!
Also, I forgot to mention previously that this story does have some moments that are a little graphic in terms of being bloody and gory. I'll give fair warning for those chapters but I thought I should give a heads up :)
xx