The lavender dress didn't look so terrible. Reaching a little above the knee, shiny beading decorated the overlay. She paired it with a matching handbag and white heels. She hoped this was enough to entice Kimber. She finished applying her lipstick before heading downstairs. Men ogled at her from their tables, but nobody dared approach her. She saw Harry leaning against the register, reading the Evening Dispatch. She sighed.

For the past week and a half, Copycat remained quiet. Abigail March and Victoria Graham's families laid them to rest. The coins sat in the station's evidence locker. Vivian left the morning after the double murder, though wrote when she could. Jane couldn't stand the waiting. Her nerves stayed on edge, and she spent nights anticipating some news. She'd written down possible theories. She contemplated the crime scenes and took in the state of the victims. Most of all searched for the opium source. The little packet still sat on her desk. She'd shown it to known users and dealers, but they said nothing. The newspaper's intrusion wasn't helpful either.

'Alleyway Butcher Still Loose' read the headline in bold letters. Mr. Irons did no favors by asking around town about the murders. People poured their insane theories to him and he wrote them all. Jane read them. Most of it was absolute rubbish. He'd only mentioned Abigail and Victoria; not the others who'd died before them. Nobody cared about prostitutes dying. Jane sighed seeing Harry reading one against the bar.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Reading the paper like a normal person," he folded it and put it down. "Need anything?"

"No," she said. "I don't drink before work."

"You should see the stuff they wrote about you," he said.

Oh yes, they'd written a good deal about her. "What did they say?"

"They said your brother is some high-ranking government official. They think he's the one who put you onto it because the government wants to cover up the murders. Allegedly, the killer could be a doctor or a surgeon. They even suggested it could be a butcher."

"They're not completely wrong," she responded. "They'd write that because scandals sell more papers."

"I hope you catch this man soon," he said. "People are starting to get restless. There're rumors about smashing up the meat markets. They think he's a butcher. It's only a matter of time before there's riots in the streets. This needs to stop before it gets worse."

"That's what I'm here about. Any news from Freddie?"

"Ah yes," he nodded. He reached under the bar and slipped her a letter. "One of his friends brought it in."

"Thank you." She tore open the letter.

'Dear Jane,

Unfortunately, there isn't much chatter going on in my end of the wire. A few IRA members were whispering about the shipment Tommy stole. Apparently, they plan to confront him about them. I'm guessing they're gonna make some sort of deal.

I looked into Billy Kimber for you. Tommy's right. A couple of working girls told me he was regular. He comes down for the races and pays for a whole night. One of the madams banned him from her brothel a while back. The poor girl came out battered and beaten from what he did. She said he asked her for the backdoor and she wouldn't give it to him. So he took it instead. A part of me hopes he is your man, Jane. He doesn't deserve a prison cell. He deserves a grave.

Malacki Bryne is telling the truth. I spoke to one of his comrades, the one you fought. He said that Malacki is laying low for the time being. That inspector isn't hunting just communists. He's looking for anyone he can arrest for anything. I thought he'd be more interested in your case seeing as he's itching to put someone in prison. He left before the murders started, Maguire told me.

I already know about Ada, but thank you for telling me. I attached a letter for her. Would you give it to her? I don't want her to think I've abandoned her. I love her, Jane. I'd do anything for her. I just can't come back right away. I'll figure something out. I'm not afraid of Tommy.

Signed,

Freddie.'

She folded the letter and put it in her purse. Jane wasn't surprised by the news. Billy Kimber definitely stood as a person of interest now. She supposed agreeing to the outing was a good idea. Pulling out a cigarette from her case, she lit one. Jane hadn't attended a derby in years. Her father was a fan, so he'd always drag the family along. Jane recalled the box they'd sit in. He'd stand there and cheer on his horse while she and Arnold played their 'deduction game'. Arnold hadn't liked them much either, but he knew how to keep appearances. Jane didn't.

"He's here," Harry said, nodding to the window.

She spotted Tommy's car outside the tavern. Jane sighed. Taking her purse, she bid Harry a good day and walked outside. "Tommy," she nodded, getting into the car beside him.

His eyes fell over her. He said, "This is a flirty kitten?"

She laughed, "You haven't seen anything yet."

They reached the jockey's stables where the riders prepared themselves for the race. A few of them glanced Jane's way, but she ignored them. It wasn't normal for women to be there. Tommy ushered her past them and kept his head down.

"He isn't expecting you, is he?" she asked.

"Not entirely," he answered.

"Does he even know who you are?"

"He does," he said. "I took some time to get his attention."

"How?"

"I fixed a race without his permission."

They finally reached the entrance into the ballroom. Jane and he waited in the back of the queue as the bouncer let people inside. "Alright," he said, "When we reach the door, you do the talking. You're Lady Sarah of Connemara and I'm your guest."

"And let me guess, you don't speak English?"

"Exactly."

"How original…" Jane didn't tell him. She only smirked to herself as they came to the velvet rope.

"Name?" the large man asked, holding his clipboard.

"Jane Dawes," she replied. Tommy shot her a wide-eyed glance, but she ignored him.

The man scanned the list twice. Jane's stomach churned a second seeing his heavily focused. Perhaps she'd been wrong this time? She couldn't be. "Ah yes, here you are," the man finally said. Jane breathed a sigh of relief. "Jane Ophelia Dawes and guest. Your father's waiting for you in Box 5; top tier and to the left."

"Thank you," she smiled before crossing the rope.

Cheltenham was exactly how she expected. Gold décor with lights and flowers twirled around the tall columns. A band played on stage as a trio of girls danced to the music. Waiters walked around with drink trays in their hands. It wasn't anything Jane didn't know. Everyone dressed in the refinery and luxury of the upper class. They hardly paid attention to the couple walking through one of the tiers. Nobody cared. Jane could never stand the selfishness. She glanced back at Tommy. Someone like him didn't belong here. Then again, she didn't either.

Tommy brought her closer to his side. "What was that?" he whispered.

"Me using my real name?" she said. "I don't need a fake one. My father comes to these derbies all the time. He ensures my brother and I are on the list in case we decide to attend. We both hate them, of course, but he does it anyways. Arnold only comes if important people are here."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"I wanted to see the look on your face," she chuckled. "Come on, let's get moving."

They stayed on the second tier where they both watched people dance. She suddenly stiffened. The only times she and Tommy were alone was around a dead body. Today, she stood alone with him. His jaw line perfectly clean-shaven, she detected aftershave on his face. His tailored suit fit his frame, and his peaked cap folded in his pocket. She supposed nobody would see the razor blades in the peak. He even cut his hair. She looked away before he noticed her watching him. She coughed and said, "So, who did you bet on?"

"My horse," he said, "Monaghan Boy. You?"

"Princess Petal," she said. "He's my father's horse." He'd given the horse her pet name, but she wouldn't tell him that.

"Your father races horses?"

"Sometimes. He thought he'd give it a go since he's such a fan of them. Being the Police Commissioner, it wasn't hard for him to do it."

"Your father's the police commissioner?"

"He is," she nodded. "He was in the military and then he became a constable. He was a Chief Inspector for a long time before he got the position. I suppose that's where Arnold and I get our interests from. What about yours?"

"He told fortunes and stole horses," he sighed. "He'd tell a man that his horse would be stolen and they'd marvel at his powers when it was." They both shared a soft laugh. "My mother was a gypsy, you see, so people believed him."

"Really? That sounds fun. My mother's only a wealthy socialite who's part of a bunch of charity boards. She's not much different than the women down there," Jane motioned to the women below. "She grew up wealthy so she acts like it."

"And you don't want that?"

"I never fit in with the girls at my school," she said. "I did get along with most of them and I attended their dinner parties. I dated boys in my class and tried being sociable. It was just…"

"What?"

"They were so boring!" she confessed. "All they did was gossip over tea and backstab each other. They cared so much about appearances and their image. I hardly ever carried any sort of conversation with them. I sort of just sat there and deduced them."

"What about Vivian?"

Jane smiled, "She's different. We're childhood friends. Her parents are old family friends, so she came to our house often. She isn't boring. Not in the slightest."

"You two do seem close."

"She's the only person I trust anymore," she said. "I can never count on anyone else."

A silence fell between them for a moment. "Do you dance?" he asked.

"Occasionally."

"Then may I have this dance?"

Jane looked him up and down. She said, "Sure."

Tommy took her hand and they walked to the lower dance floor. The band struck up a new song and the crowd moved to its beat. Putting her hand in his, Tommy came closer to her. His hand slipped around her waist and she pretended she couldn't feel it. She knew Kimber would see them. Whether he reached out or not was up to him.

"You plan to make a deal with him then?" she asked as they danced.

"I do," he confirmed. "If you want to move up in the world, you have to knock down a few walls."

"Weak ones," she added. "Kimber's gone soft."

"How would you know?"

"You wouldn't be hitting above your weight if he wasn't," she said.

"You're too observant for your own good," he said. "Did you know that?"

"Oh I know that very well," she answered. When he tried hiding his smile, she said, "So you do smile after all…"

He didn't speak for a moment. His eyes fell on her lips, but he didn't lean into her. "It slips sometimes," he replied.

"It's nice," she told him. "You should try doing it more often."

She stunned him. She saw the cogs in his head turning for a comeback. He looked at her lips again before meeting her eyes. Tommy drew nearer, so much so she could already taste his lips. She tilted her head sideways and closed her eyes. The anticipation bubbled in her stomach. Her hand squeezed his in excitement. Then he stopped. The atmosphere dissipated the second he noticed something else. Without a word, he pushed them both through the slew of dancers towards a side door. Arthur came through the door, dumping a bunch of sacks on the floor at their feet. She saw them all filled to the tops with money and betting slips. He'd stolen them from Kimber's bookies, no doubt.

"Is this everything?" Tommy asked Arthur.

"That's everything," he said. Arthur noticed Jane in her dress, "You look nice. You should wear that to the pub sometime."

"The Lee family give you any trouble?" Tommy questioned.

"Eh, nothing we couldn't handle," Arthur smirked pointing to the bloody cut on his face.

"Good," he patted his brother's shoulder. "Give the boys a free round at The Garrison."

"Will do. Good luck."

Arthur left through the back way and Tommy lifted up the bags. "Stay by the bar."

"Why?"

"Please, Jane," he said, "For once, don't ask questions. Just do it."

Jane nodded. She wouldn't admit to the disappointment in her gut. It meant nothing. It was normal. She didn't care. She sat at the bar and ordered a drink. Once she had it, she found Kimber's table. Tommy talked with Kimber and another man, the contents of the bags all over the table. They seemed interested in what Tommy told them. She supposed it'd work after all.

"Princess! You made it!"

Her father, George Dawes, strode towards her holding a drink. White hair slicked back, his immaculate suit matched his shiny shoes. and gold pocket watch. Blue eyes twinkled at her in his smile. Jane felt relieved seeing him. He kissed her cheek and took the seat beside her. His hugs never came without a familiar tobacco scent. Jane never minded it on him. It was home for her.

"Dad," she said, "I thought you'd be in your booth by now. The race should be starting soon."

"Your mother wanted to dance with your brother," he said. "I told her 'two minutes, Joanne, and then we're off!' but you know your mother."

Jane snorted. Arnold hated dancing. "She's only trying to enjoy herself, Dad."

"I know. I know you lot don't care for the races like I do. But, this is something we could all do as a family. We hardly see you both anymore." Then he asked, "What brings you here, Princess?"

"A case."

He chortled, "Oh I forgot. Jane, our little detective, find any missing cats lately?"

"No, but I have caught robbers and murderers," she said. "In fact, I'm looking into those alleyway murders."

Her father's amusement vanished. "The ones in Birmingham?"

"The very same."

"Jane…" she heard his concern, "Those aren't murders you can prance around. They are dangerous, especially for a woman like you. You should stick to your missing jewelry and scorned housewives. Leave cases like that to professionals."

"I am a professional, Dad," she said. "I know what I'm doing."

"No, you're not, Jane. You're a woman who's too smart for her own good. I…" he sighed, gulping his drink, "I don't want it to happen to you again, Princess."

Jane gave a soft smile. She touched his hand and kissed his cheek. "I'll be fine, Dad. I promise."

"Then what is it that brings you here?"

"Billy Kimber."

"What do you want with him?"

"He's a suspect."

Her father laughed over his drink, "Oh darling. You're barking up the wrong tree."

"Sorry?"

"I've known Billy Kimber for a long time," he explained. "He might be shady, but he isn't capable of something like that."

"You're defending him?"

"No. I'm only stating a fact, Jane. Billy Kimber and I have an understanding. He gives me the information I need, and he stays out of prison."

"He's your informant? Eh, he seems the type. Why not throw him in prison?"

"What you've always failed to see about the world, Janey," he began. "Is you can't always catch the bad man and lock him up. Sometimes, you have to let them go. The world needs people like Billy Kimber. They keep the peace and order that we never could. Much of the lower class doesn't trust the police; most of them have a right to. Yet, they listen and obey the rules of people such as Kimber. They do the same with Solomons of the Jewish gang and Sabini of the Italians. One informs me about the other, and everybody stays free. Kimber might be slimy, but he isn't stupid. He wouldn't risk his neck for thrill kills."

"I suppose you're right," she said. She'd heard similar words from someone else. She glanced back over to Tommy, seeing him light a cigarette as he talked. "I have to go, Dad. I think my date is looking for me."

"A date? You brought someone?"

"Someone brought me."

"Lucky boy," he smiled. He kissed her cheek, "Perhaps you two can swing by for supper sometime? Maybe this one will be the one." He grabbed his drink and searched for her mother on the dance floor.

She heard the hope in his voice. It's been the same as all the other times. Jane left the bar for the table, plastering a giddy smile. "Tommy!" she pitched her voice slightly, "There you are! I've been looking for you!" She took the seat separating Tommy from Kimber. Kimber's eyes swept over her shapely figure in the tight dress.

"Kitten," he said, "Can't you see I'm having a conversation?"

"But Tommy…" she traced the buttons of his shirt as she whined, "I want to dance. Dance with me?"

"I'm talking with Mr. Kimber, darling," he said. This wasn't his first performance. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kimber. My Daisy can be a little bit on the eager side." He blew smoke in the opposite direction, putting his arm around Jane. "Daisy, love, this is Billy Kimber and his accountant Roberts."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kimber."

She put out her hand and he kissed the knuckles, "Nice to meet you." His eyes hardly left her body. "You never mentioned you had a woman. You two, uh, been together long?"

"No," she shook her head. "We met a month ago at Rothberg. My father took me along with him, and while I was at the bar, Tommy came up to me." She beamed at him, "And he was so charming too."

"Well, how could I resist such a lovely little kitten, hm?" he asked. He brought her into his lap, his hand riding up her thigh. Kimber saw the rhinestone buckle of her garter belt. "And she certainly knows how to keep a man happy."

"Only the best for you," she nuzzled his nose and giggled. "Come dance with me," she said loud enough for them to hear her. "I love it when you dance with me." She laced more than a plea into her words.

"I know you do," he said. He pushed hair from her face and said, "I have an idea, kitten."

"Yes?"

"Why don't you dance with Mr. Kimber, hm? Just until I'm done with Mr. Roberts, and then I'll come get you."

Jane saw Kimber shift in his seat. She batted her eyes at him; flaunting more than what was decent. "If Mr. Kimber doesn't mind?" She said it in the most innocent tone she could muster.

"Not at all," he said. "I don't mind keeping your girl preoccupied."

She smiled at him once more and he led her to the dance floor. He held her hand up and put his own hand on the small of her back. She said, "Tommy told me you own lots of horses. Is that true?"

"I do," he nodded. "I own this track too. I own a lot of them actually."

"Really?" she said. "Tommy owns a horse, and he lets me ride it lots of times. I really like riding horses." Her fingers brushed on the lapel of his jacket. "If you and Tommy become friends, maybe I can ride yours too?"

"Anytime you want."

She giggled again. Kimber continued attempting to impress her. She obliged. She laughed at his bland humor. She listened to all his boring stories. She made him feel as if he were the most interesting man in the world. He shuddered whenever she "accidentally" brushed against him. His hand wandered down her back and squeezed her backside. She jumped and blushed. Jane did nothing but make him feel in control of her.

When the song ended, Jane waited by the bar. She saw Tommy and Kimber in quiet conversation. They bargained now. Kimber wouldn't let her slip away. Tommy approached her after a short while. "He asked for you," he said.

"Of course he did," she replied.

"I'll get my deal if he has you for an hour or two," he said.

Jane smirked, "More than enough time. It's incredible how long men believe they actually can last. I'll wear him out and then go on my search."

"You mean," Tommy said, "You'll do it?"

"If it comes to it, I suppose. How terrible can he be?"

Tommy didn't like what he heard. Considering that he'd nearly kissed her, she assumed so. Surely he understood? Kimber wouldn't willingly let her into his home. He'd want something in return. Jane and Tommy left once the races started.

Kimber's house wasn't impressive. It reminded her of every other nouveau riche house she'd seen. New money always thought the secret to fitting in was paintings and antique furniture. Lots of them. It was almost obnoxious. The walls and furniture screamed 'look how rich I am!'. She could hear her mother's voice criticizing everything she came across. Tommy and Robert disappeared into a study while Kimber gave her a grand tour. He showed her all his expensive belongings. This was his way of showing off. He wanted her to see that she could have it all if she left Tommy. Jane had no interest in that. Yet, she kept this to herself. She asked about everything and gasped at the finer things. Daisy was a simple girl who loved shiny things. She played to that.

"This is my billiard room," he said.

She spotted the sofas against the wall. A bookshelf stood on the other side of the room. Seeing the leather-bound spines, she read names of classic novels and poetry. She occasionally saw business books. Yet, nothing about anatomy or the medical field. "Oh, a gramophone!" she rushed over to it, touching the lever on the side. "Does your wife use it?"

"Not anymore," he answered.

She caught it in the corner of her eye. Over in a glass case was a surgeon's kit. A black case revealed several shiny instruments stuck in the red velvet. She gravitated towards it. She forgot about Kimber and his gramophone. She set to work. The set appeared a little outdated. She could see where he'd tried removing the rust. This set wasn't Kimber's, but it must've had some significance. A latch kept the display case closed, yet not difficult to open. Jane looked over her shoulder at him, "What's this?"

"That was my grandfather's," he explained. "He was a surgeon before he fell on hard times. I kept it after he died."

"That's sweet," she said. "Are you a surgeon?"

Kimber laughed, "Not at all. I don't even know what most of these are for actually. I just thought it'd be an interesting conversation piece." The new money also liked "conversation pieces".

"Can I touch one?" she asked.

"I don't think you want to look at that, sweetheart. It's too sharp and you might hurt yourself."

"But, I'd like to see them up close," she pouted. "Can I? Please, Mr. Kimber?"

He looked on her fondly and pulled her to him. "Not now. Shelby told me you like games. I thought we'd play one."

"Oh I love games!" she bounced. "What game?"

"You take this," he handed her a five-penny, "And hide it. Then, it's my job to find it."

"That's silly, Mr. Kimber."

"And why's that?"

"This room's big," she said. "You'd never find it!"

"I would if you had it on you," he said, lifting her chin. "It wouldn't take me long."

"You mean in my purse?"

"No, kitten," he said. He brushed his lips against her ear. She was already sickened by the fancy cologne he doused himself in. She didn't need his alcoholic breath making things worse. "I mean under your dress."

She pretended to hide her blush, "Mr. Kimber, that's naughty. Tommy might not like it."

"He told me it was alright. You won't get in trouble."

"Okay." She gripped the coin in her hand and saw him still looking at her. "Close your eyes."

He did so. Jane took the opportunity. Silently, she unlatched the case and picked up the long curved knife first. Examining the edge, it'd easily cut through flesh. Someone recently sharpened and polished the blade. Its handle was clean. Putting it back, she took up another piece. The small saw's condition was the same. Each instrument was perfect. Kimber took great care of his grandfather's tools. Looking at the case itself, she noticed the thin layer of dust. Had he used this case, the leather would be as fine as its contents. No. Her father had been right. Kimber's innocent.

"What's taking so long?" Kimber asked annoyed.

"I'm looking for the right spot."

"Good God girl," he said, "You're a whole lot of stupid in a whole lot of pretty." He opened his eyes and saw her beside the open case. "Wha-What did I say? What did I tell you about that, hm?"

Jane froze. "I wanted to see it," she said innocently.

"There's only one thing you should want to see," he said. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the couches. "Shelby said I could have you. Now, be a good girl and do what you're told."

"I don't want to play anymore."

"I wasn't asking," he said through his teeth.

"Let me go!" she said as he pressed her to the wall instead.

His hand found her throat. He squeezed it as he fumbled with himself below. When Jane managed to slip out of his grasp, he only smacked her. He slammed her into the wall, causing her head to knock back. The moment she tried getting away, he slapped her again. Blood tainted her taste buds, and she swallowed it. "You little tease," he growled. He caught her by the throat again. This time, no amount of kicking helped. Her heart thumped in her chest. She struggled for breath.

She wasn't in the billiard room anymore. She wasn't surrounded by the warm light coming into the room. Her mind plunged into the darkness of the bunker. She tried yanking off the hands of an angry German. Cold water touched her face. The sack suffocated her. Their gut-punches knocked the wind from her, and she spat blood out. She couldn't breathe. The sack muffled her screams and the water drowned her throat. She kicked against the chair and lights swung above her.

The hands pulled away from her. She heard angry voices. Jane coughed and sputtered, seeing the blood tint the water pink. Her skin stung from the harsh spray they shot at her. She cried for help. She cried for her parents. She cried for Arnold. They wouldn't stop. No matter how much she pleaded, they didn't stop. Arnold's warm arms lifted her from the floor. She shivered and continued crying.

"It's alright, Jane," he sounded different. Why did he sound so different? "You're safe. You're home in England. Nobody's hurting you here."

She didn't struggle. She let Arnold place her in the car. A car? Arnold didn't have a car in the war. Cool air touched her face. It wasn't the biting cold of winter, but a soft spring breeze. The smell of trees replaced the smoke in the air. Comforting whispers reached her instead of gunfire. The tightness within her slowly uncoiled and she could breathe again. Aftershave and cigarettes reached her nose. Tommy. Not Arnold, but Tommy. He kissed her forehead and brushed the hair from her face. She inhaled more of him. Each intake brought back the world.

"H-Home…"