John pressed down on the window, shoving it with all his energy until it finally shut enough that he could snap the latch.

"Not a fan of the elements Detective?" He turned to see Anna at the door to his office.

"I'm not overly enthralled with the hurricane outside." He pointed to the gale beating the window, "I thought moving into summer would mean the weather would be less prohibitive."

"Haven't you heard the saying?" John shook his head and Anna continued, "March is in like a lion out like a lamb?"

"Or in like a lion out like a lion and everything in between."

"Maybe it'll stop our killer for a bit."

"One could only hope." John clapped his hands together, "How can I help you doctor? Something about the case?"

Anna removed her hat and coat, setting them on the chair in front of his desk. "I actually came about a personal matter I think we need to settle."

"If this is about what I suggested this morning-"

"It is." Anna crossed her arms over her chest, "I've no argument with you assuming a protective role over me. In fact I find it rather flattering that you seem so convinced I'd be the object of significant to desire to someone besides yourself when that was enough."

"But?"

"But I do take umbrage with the implication that somehow my pursuit of my life or, in the case of last night and this morning, my pleasure might have anything to do with the escalations of a psychopath."

"Are we calling him that now?"

"He's someone with an obvious mental disorder and I rather agree with the Germans on this one." Anna took a breath, "I accept that I look much like the murdered women. I accept that I must mean something to the man doing this. I do not, however, accept that I'm the reason for all of this."

"When did you get the idea that I would ever suggest that?"

"Was that not what you implied this morning?"

"No," John shook his head, "I implied that the killer saw us and made an assumption. One I think we could derail by lulling him back into false security."

Anna took a seat, raising her eyebrow, "Such as?"

"Imagine if he thought you'd been reduced."

"How?"

"If the precinct no longer wanted your services or if you were no longer receiving callers of a male variety."

"You think you can calm the beast by making it seem like his work had an effect on me?" John nodded and Anna sat back in the chair, staring into the corner like she was thinking over the offer. After a moment she nodded, "I think I could see the benefit of playing into this fantasy."

"It'd take a bit." John took his seat across from her, "We need something that would look like your failure. Something to send you spiraling to a level he empathizes with to make him believe that you're once again like him."

"My rise was his fall so my fall becomes his rise?"

"Exactly."

"I could see his mind accepting that logic. It plays to further his sick fantasy."

"We'd have to make it good."

"Believable, is a better word. Even for someone as twisted as this they're not stupid."

"That's why I'm working on a plan." John opened his hands at the files on his desk, "Though I'd like your help with something before we officially get rid of your services."

"What?"

"I need someone to come with me to Five Points."

Anna snorted, "I enjoy flirting with danger but that seems a bit excessive."

"I know and I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice."

"I'm a last ditch resort?"

"You're the best resort." John smiled, "I had William, Alfred, and James do some hunting through files looking for these women."

Anna examined the files, "These are not just our victims."

"No."

"You found more victims?"

"Yes, technically. Bertie had a theory that maybe there were other women who'd reported similar events in the past that were dismissed, for any reason. He found cases that fit our killer's predilections."

"What did they do with them"

"They found their families." John pulled out a piece of paper with a number of addresses typed there, "At least the records of those who had families. Some might've moved or might no longer be living but we should see what we could find anyway."

"Why not have those three chase their leads?"

"I couldn't send them to interview the family members in Five Points."

"Because no one in Five Points will say a word to a policeman and those three are so green they'd be eaten alive?"

"Exactly. However," John held up a finger, "If you and I go they may be willing to talk to us."

"I don't know if you realized this, Detective," Anna leaned forward, "But you're a policeman."

"Not in Five Points. In Five Points I'm one of them." John stood, pulling his coat off the back of his chair, "And you're a kind face."

"I'd like to think I'm a touch more than that."

"To me, of course. To them you look trustworthy." John flicked out his lapels and pulled his collar down. "Even in those clothes you'll get more out of them than I ever could."

"So you're my bodyguard, as it were?"

"I could be that."

They went to the street and hailed a cab to take them as close to Five Points as the driver dared before insisting they walk the rest of the way. John paid the man and walked close to Anna, guiding them down the streets. He shivered in the howling rain and Anna offered him a spot under her umbrella.

"I'm glad you thought to bring one."

"Women are always prepared, Detective."

"I think here I should be John." He cautioned, eyeing a man smoking under an eve. "We're trying not to draw attention to ourselves."

"We tried the same when we visited a few brothels and look how that turned out."

"At least we tried."

"Here I don't think names and titles matter." Anna sighed, "It's just a shame."

"What?"

"All of this," She pointed around them, "When all the craftsmen left this area all the money did too. It moved uptown in a hurry and left downtown to the downtrodden. These people have nothing and others take glory in that, grinding the faces of the poor when they already wallow in a pit of despair."

"Rather Biblical in your descriptions, wouldn't you say?"

"It is what it is, John." Anna sighed, "There's so much potential here, so much light snuffed out too early and too young. These children and people who could be more if they had more."

"You truly believe that?"

"There's always a bit of light somewhere."

John shook his head, "Not in Five Points or many of the places in the boroughs. These people have been told they don't matter and now they believe they don't so they revel in it."

"Don't I know it." Anna sighed and John stopped, holding the umbrella to get her attention.

"For as much as you care, and meaning no disrespect, I don't think you do."

"You don't think I understand?"

"You can't unless you've lived it. That gnawing terror drove those women to a profession that killed them and, as horrible as it is for me to say it, that still may've been better than how they would've lived here. Crammed ten or fifteen to a room that'd go up like a match and burn them all alive if someone three shacks down was careless. Or they melt in the summer heat and freeze in winter's chill." John sighed, "These are the scum of the earth because they've been ground down to be so."

Anna nodded, holding his gaze, "That's why I do what I do, John. I may not've pulled myself from the mire, and I admit that the opportunities granted me are those that others may call privileged, but I am not blind to that. If anything it gives me more impetus to do more with what I have in the service of others."

"And you think your service will help them?"

"Yes I believe it will."

"How?"

"Because I expose the lie, John. Had our killer slaughtered a hundred living here no one would bat an eye and that grinds at me. What grinds me more is, as Moore said, we first make thieves and then punish them." Anna pointed to the neighborhood around them, "We created this. In the greatest city in the world we bred this to fester and thrive inside it."

"Did we?"

"Yes! By allowing physical evils to produce moral evils, John. They degrade men to the conditions of brutes, and they will have brutal propensities and passions." She looked at him, "Does that summate your assessment?"

"Beautifully." John let out a breath, "If I didn't know better I'd say you were a poet, not an alienist."

"There's a touch of the ephemeral in what I do, to be sure." Anna smiled, "But I didn't write that."

"Who did?"

"Robert M. Hartley, founder of the AICP. He's one of my personal heroes."

"I imagine you don't collect many of those."

"On the contrary I've amassed quite a few."

"Really?" John chuckled.

"Why the tone of surprise?"

"I guess I just assumed it'd be difficult to impress someone as impressive as yourself. To match wits with you would be a thing to behold."

"Not so, you do it everyday." Anna went to walk forward and John moved with her, holding the umbrella in the downpour. "I'm as simple as anyone else. I have people I admire just as I have people I despise. I'm human and I'm not perfect."

"Could've fooled me."

John caught Anna's smirk out of the corner of his eye, "You're easily gotten then so I'll keep trying to fool you."

"I wouldn't argue with that in the least."

John found the first address and beat on the door with the side of his fist to have them hear over the winds. A small child, dusted in grime, cracked the door. Anna stepped forward, smiling at her.

"Hello. We need to speak to-"

"You don't need to speak to no one." A woman grabbed the door, pushing the child back. "We've got nothing to say."

"We're here about your daughter," John held up the picture, clipped carefully to leave the gory details out, "She was found dead and-"

"Serves her right, selling herself like a whore to that man." The door slammed in their faces and John turned to Anna.

"Not what I expected." Anna stepped off the stoop and John walked them in the direction of the next address. "I thought they'd be a little more worried about the fate of their children.

"It's about what I expected."

"Why"

"Because there's a mix of jealousy and anger."

"Jealousy?"

"That they escaped. Even if it's to a whore house it's still escaping how they live here." John navigated them up a rickety staircase. "And anger that they sold themselves to others and abandoned their families."

"No way to win in this?" Anna lifted her skirt slightly higher to avoid a broken slat. "Either they die in this squalor or in another kind."

"Don't we all die in squalor?" John rapped on the door. They waited a moment and he tried again.

"Maybe they're not home." Anna suggested just as the door swung open.

An old man, bent at the waist, stared up at them from under his forehead. "Yes?"

"Sir, are you Mr. Drake?"

"Who's asking?"

"We're here about your daughter," John held up another photo and the man spit to the side, Anna narrowly dodging it.

"She ain't been my daughter since she ran off with that man." He waved a hand, "Good riddance to her."

The door shut and John heard a lock pull on the other side. He sighed and motioned down the stairs to Anna. "This might've been a waste."

"It's not a waste if we learn something."

"You think we'll learn something?" John scoffed, "You've more faith than I do Doctor."

"Then you've not been paying attention, Detective."

"How'd you mean?"

"We already learned something." Anna stopped them, "They sold themselves to a man."

"And that helps us?"

"Yes. Now we just need to find out more about the man they sold themselves to and find him."

They spent the afternoon sending water farther and farther up their clothes and they wandered Five Points with the addresses of the families of the murdered and attacked women. Door after door shut in their face and even with Anna's softer touch they had no more interest in the fate of their children than any of the brothel owners did. The evening wore on, the cold intensified and both of them slumped a little in their failures as no one would answer questions about their daughters or the man who whisked them away.

John raised his fist to the last door, noticing Anna shivered as much as his hand trembled. He took her hands in his, both like ice, and rubbed a moment. She looked up at him, her teeth chattering.

"No matter what, this is the last door."

"Don't tell me you're quitting Detective?" She tried to goad him but he felt her body practically convulse in his grip as it tried to warm itself.

"Yes, we are." John knocked on the door and blinked at the wrinkled woman standing there. "Ms. Shackleton?"

"It's Mrs." She drew her shawl closer, "Who wants to know."

"Mrs. Shackleton," Anna stepped up, "We're looking for information on your daughter."

"Emily hasn't lived here in five years." Mrs. Shackleton shifted in place, "I haven't seen her."

"Ma'am," John removed his hat, "Emily passed, a month ago."

"I see," Mrs. Shackleton nodded and steppe back, "You'd best come in."

John let Anna go first, taking the umbrella to shut and shake it before following them into the house. The hallway cramped his frame and he practically had to walk sideways to reach the small room at the back. Mrs. Shackleton offered them chairs but John declined, sure his weight would break them to splinters. Anna accepted one and pushed a stool in John's direction.

When they were all sitting Anna began, "You said Emily left five years ago?"

"Yes," Mrs Shackleton nodded, "She thought she'd have better luck elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" John pressed, interlacing his fingers and wondering if the reason he could not feel them was the numbness from the cold.

"She worked in a factory. Made shirts for twelve hours a day for pennies on the dollar." Mrs. Shackleton drew her shawl around her bony shoulders like she might try to strangle herself with it in front of them. "A man came, said there was a chance for a better life for a girl like herself. She told me about it and I told her she couldn't do it. She left in the middle of the night and I hadn't seen her since."

"Could you describe the man?"

"I only saw him from a distance and it was five years ago."

"Still?" John opened his hands, "It could help us find-"

"Find who, sir?"

"Find Emily's killer.

Mrs. Shackleton narrowed her eyes, "You said Emily passed."

"Yes, Mr. Bates did say that but he used a euphemism," Anna interjected, "Emily was murdered and we're trying to find details that will lead us to her killer."

"Murdered?" Mrs. Shackleton stood up in a hurry, "Murdered how? Why?"

"We're still trying to find out, Mrs. Shackleton," Anna stood, taking the other woman in her grip, helping her sit back in her chair, "That's why we need to know what you remember about the man who convinced her to leave."

"Well dressed. You only see men who look like that here if they're collecting on debts or taking our children. To the factories, to the flesh houses, or to the slaughter. They're all the same."

"What about his physical appearance?" John put a hand on his chest, "Large like me?"

"About your height, maybe. Darker hair that yours and better handled. Smaller, but he looked like he could handle himself in a scuffle." Mrs. Shackleton looked over Anna, "Skin was more your coloring and eyes like yours but colder, much colder. Like he had no soul."

John watched Anna's eyes light with recognition, "Thank you, Mrs. Shackleton that's more than helpful."

"It'll help you find my daughter's killer?"

"It gives us the tools, yes." Anna soothed, "I'm sorry we've taken up so much of your time and we're sorry about your loss."

"No," Mrs. Shackleton shook her head, "I lost Emily five years ago. I mourned her then. I've no strength to mourn her now."

They both waited a moment but Mrs. Shackleton just gave herself over to sobs and buried her head in her arms on her table. Anna gestured for John and they made to leave. John slipped down the hallway, grabbing the umbrella and opening it before Anna stepped outside. The tumult from earlier settled into more of a drizzle as John steered them back to the main road to find a cab.

Anna spoke first, "You recognized her description?"

"I want to say Thomas but that's too convenient."

"Convenient or not, I'd hazard it was Thomas." Anna shuddered, "Sounds just like him to snatch girls from their homes for a life that's not really a life."

"I thought Thomas worked for Carlisle." John paused, "Branson suggested Carlisle's a gangster but not a trafficker."

"Carlisle's got his hand in anything that'll turn his profit. Now it's development, a few years ago it was shipping, and in a few years it'll change again. He changes with the winds and the seasons."

"Then how does Thomas figure into that?"

"He's an enforcer, Mr. Bates. He works at whatever Carlisle needs."

"He collects for brothels?" John snorted, "Depravity and vice are his trade in all it's forms I'd imagine."

"You wouldn't be half wrong," Anna shivered and John stepped closer, trying to give her any of his own failing body heat.

"But which brothel?"

"Branson once suggested that Thomas and O'Brien went back a ways." Anna shrugged, "Maybe they keep one another a cut above."

"Explains how Carlisle abducted us after we left the Abbey. If O'Brien squealed on our presence there to Thomas, knowing he was following us." John caught sight of a group of people standing directly in their path. "And maybe how he knows where we are now."

Anna saw them too and pulled her handbag closer to her, "We did make a bit of a stir with all those slamming doors."

"I'd hoped a little less of a stir." John put his hand on his pistol. "Stay close."

"I didn't think of doing anything else."

They continued forward until the five men crowded the alley, blocking their way. The biggest of them, standing just taller than John, folded his arms, "Can't let you pass."

"Why's that?"

"Because I've got a message for you."

"I don't know you enough for you to have anything to say to me." John held the man's gaze and felt Anna just off his left shoulder.

"I'm more of a middle man really." The man stabbed a finger into John's chest, "Keep out of Five Points and let the dead girls be."

"Dead girls?"

"Those whores being slit uptown." The man growled, "Let them be dead and let the world forget about it."

"Why?" Anna stepped forward but John put out an arm to stop her, "Why should they be given any less attention than anyone else killed?"

"Because the lady doctor needs to not stir the pot," The man sneered, "Stay tending your crazies and your nutters and let the dead stay dead little girl."

"Little girl?"

"Anna." John hissed as the man started laughing.

"Yeah, biting off more than you can chew." The man went to put a finger on her but Anna batted it away. He only laughed more, "Feisty isn't she?"

"I'm more than that."

"Sure you are." The man crowded them back a pace, "Leave this."

"Who sent you?" John pressed, "What mutual friend do we have that wants you to make sure we leave this be?"

"One who wants to build a greater New York."

"Carlisle." Anna spit and the man only grunted. "Tell him to pogue moh hone."

The man charged but John gripped his gun and punched at the man. With the metal between his fingers John heard a snap of the man's nose and he stumbled sideways, holding the broken and bleeding appendage. John stepped back, spinning his gun to hold at the ready.

"Don't be stupid enough to attack a police officer gentlemen."

The men thought a moment and rushed them. John fired at the man with a broken nose, leaving him howling on the ground as blood leaked through his shirt. John fired again, tripping another man with the sound of a shattered kneecap, before punching a third man. He stumbled back over his fallen friend and John pointed his gun at the man.

"Run away."

He scrambled to escape, tripping over the other two as he dashed away. John turned for the last two and saw Anna calmly replacing a pistol in her handbag as the two other men rolled on the ground holding their bleeding limbs. Anna faced him and John raised his eyebrows.

Her hands went in the air, "What?"

"Nothing." He grabbed her arm, "We need to get somewhere safe."