Disclaimer - I do not own any of ACDs characters! I do own the others.

Chapter 11

"Shhh! It's me – Holmes."

Izzy looked up into the man's face in surprise as the sardonic, clipped tones of Sherlock Holmes permeated the darkness. She relaxed, stopped struggling and Holmes released her. "What the heck were you doing? It's just as well you told me. I was about to SING you."

His face was blank as he released her. "SING me? What ...?"

"Basic self defence. Stomach, Instep, Nose, Groin. Disables an attacker long enough to get away, or at least call for help. I've used it before. Oh, and believe me, I can run."

"Ah." He ran his finger down the false nose he wore. "At least one part of me would have been protected."

She smiled. "Your breath..."

"It is surprising what Mrs Hudson can find in her kitchen."

"And I thought you shaved before you came out?"

"Hence the muffler."

"Oh. I just thought you were paranoid." Holmes coughed and Izzy grinned mischievously before asking, "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"We lost sight of you. I had already foreseen this eventuality, of course, so after we dropped you off I assumed this rather tattered form and have been able to watch you more closely than any policeman would be able to. Or even, if I may so bold, dear Watson. He does not go in for this sort of thing. He thinks it rather too ... lurid. So does Lestrade."

"That would be due to your disguises fooling them too often." She gagged, "Dear heavens Holmes! Do you think you could stand back a bit? I hate to say it, but you smell terrible."

Holmes did not comment, but did step back a few steps. "I decided to step in now ..." His voice became more urgent. "It is too foggy, Isabella. We cannot guarantee your safety. We must stop this task for tonight and regroup."

"No. Give it a bit more time. I know there are no guarantees. Was it you in the other street, opposite me in the other door?"

"What? No, I was on the street corner. I was unaware of any other person."

"Then I think ... he is here."

She got no further in her explanation. A scream rent the still, heavy air. They both started and looked around. The cry had come from the street from where Izzy had come a few moments before. Where the shadowy figure had been.

There was a rush of feet, and Watson broke out of the mist with three policemen in tow. His face was a mask of anger and not a little fear, but when he saw Izzy and Holmes were quite well, relief seemed to sweep over him. "Thank goodness! When we heard that scream…"

"Not here!" exclaimed Holmes, interrupting, and gestured towards the origin of the cry. "Quickly. He is there."

He turned to Izzy. "Stay here. It is not safe."

"No way. I'm safest with you."

With a sigh Holmes accepted the inevitable and they both ran to catch up with Watson and the policemen, who had already turned to run towards the source of the scream. As they turned the corner, they saw that everyone in the vicinity, had gathered around a shape on the ground. Holmes pushed his way through, pulling off his false nose, teeth caps and wig, and thrusting them roughly into his pocket.

Watson was crouched next to the still form. He looked up. He was pale, and as they moved closer they saw why. Izzy felt sick.

"No good. Looks like he started to strangle her, she resisted, and she was then knifed in the abdomen. Eviscerated. Nothing we can do."

Holmes knelt beside the still form of the woman. Her eyelids flickered. She looked into his face, and seemed to recognise him.

She gasped. "Don't ... go ... lie ... on ..."

And she was gone.

Holmes was silent for a moment, as if considering the words, and then stood. "Do we know who she is?" he asked, hopefully.

"She knew who you were…" started Izzy, glancing at Holmes.

"I know her." In surprise they turned to Lestrade. "This is Louisa Govan. We have had concerns over her for a number of weeks. One of my sergeants has been trying to keep her under surveillance, but with not much success. He considers that she is a member of some sort of gang of female criminals. Personally, I think the whole idea's ridiculous. But he obviously considers there is some value in the hypothesis. Drug dens, gambling houses, brothels... she is supposedly involved in any number of illicit activities. He has done much work but she is always able to be one step ahead."

"And I too have seen her before." Watson had stood up and in the light of the police torches was now studying her face. He gave an involuntary shudder. "She was one of those two women who set upon me two weeks ago."

Holmes was studying the woman. "This is truly interesting. I wonder if our friend the Ripper is working in consort with this criminal gang, or whether the two are unconnected? I wonder if he saw her as a colleague or a rival?"

Lestrade took the three of them – Holmes, Watson and Izzy – to one side, whilst his officers started tidying up the crime scene. One had gone into an adjacent house and procured a bucket ready to wash the street clean of the blood.

"If they are working together, this would be a serious development. Has anything been said to any of you that could shed any light?"

"This is wonderful!" exclaimed Holmes, applauding rather sarcastically, Izzy thought. "My dear Lestrade, you are learning! You took the words right out of my mouth! But please, before you wash the scene, may I...?" and without waiting for an answer, he fell to his knees and started surveying the ground around the body, and the body itself.

Izzy meanwhile thought back to the hospital, where Lastoric had appeared on the Ward. Your friends have many enemies, my girl. Not just the Ripper...

It was an obvious statement of course, but it did muddy the waters, surely? She decided not to share the comment.

"Very well," said Holmes, standing up and returning to them. "We will learn nothing more here tonight." Izzy looked at him and saw a gleam in his eye. There was something, then, and he wasn't yet going to share it with Lestrade.

Back in Baker Street, Mrs Hudson had stoked the fire. It was now roaring in the grate. They were all chilled to the bone, but thankful that they had got through the night unscathed. Drinks were quickly served, and the gentlemen proceeded to unwind with tobacco, whilst Izzy took a bath. By nine o'clock that morning they had snatched a couple of hours' sleep and were ready to review the night's events. The day's papers were as usual spread on the table.

"Come, Holmes," said Watson. "Both Izzy and I know you saw more than you were letting on to Lestrade."

"Yes, I had my doubts as soon as I heard the commotion. It did not – let's just say sound right for a Ripper attack."

"In what way?"

"Because it was a man's scream."

In silence, Izzy and Watson looked at each other in wonder.

"Then, what you're saying is ..."

"That our lady friend was the attacker. But she found herself up against an opponent who knew how to defend himself and fight back. Now doubtless we will never know for certain if her attacker was the Ripper – although the method of killing was absolutely his - but I am intrigued by the fact that she – Louisa – made the first move in opening the attack."

"What do you think? How do you explain it?" asked Watson.

"I think there is a conspiracy being developed, and that I am wholly, or part of, the target. This woman evidently knew I was on the streets tonight, and probably knew that I would be wearing disguise. I can surmise that she attacked this man on the basis that she thought he was I. He, however, was – probably - the Ripper. Certainly he defended himself as though he were the Ripper. He was clearly prepared, with a weapon to hand."

"So I can count myself lucky that I moved when I did," muttered Izzy.

"Indeed," replied Holmes, his eyes turning to Izzy with unusual warmth, and not some little regret. "I believe that had you not moved away, then we may not have been talking to you this morning."

He stopped, took a deep draw on his pipe, and leaned over to her. Then he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself to say something. "At least we still have you safe with us. It was irresponsible of me to put you in such danger, and for that I apologise." Turning towards Watson, he continued, "And to think that I could have asked your wife to put herself in such danger as well. My desperation to solve this case got in the way of my judgement and I must again offer my most sincere apologies".

Watson was quick to his defence. "That's alright, old fellow, but you must let the matter rest now. Let it rest in the knowledge that history does not record any further Ripper murders."

Holmes considered this. "No, it will not do. There is one still free who walks the streets of this great city, who has butchered with unspeakable savagery and who MUST be brought to justice. Anything less is – unfair. Unfair for his past victims. And we have the added complication of this new attack." His voice dropped. "But for Lestrade's comments, I would otherwise have thought that it bore the marks of being Professor Moriarty's handiwork. But he seemed quite clear that Louisa was a member of this ... gang. It is a puzzle. But one which I cannot give my time to."

"Perhaps it's hero worship," commented Izzy. "Maybe she modelled herself on Moriarty."

"Hmmm," replied Holmes, almost as if to himself. "Perhaps someone in this hornet's nest does. But be sure of this. The Ripper is toying with us. With me. This is ... personal."