Dressed as a commoner, in a plain dark dress, Jane stepped out of the small shop into the foggy street and crossed the name of the butcher off her list. She consulted her small notepad and looked down the way to see if she should continue to the next one or meet up with George and Maura to ride to the next section. Her feet were sore from all the walking, and she could feel the night's chill creeping into her weary bones. Soon the shops would be closing and they'd have to come back again the next day. The icy tendrils of the London fog prickled her face and she pulled her thick scarf up to her ears to shield herself from it.

Squinting at the dark, ghostly shapes gliding through the murk, she spotted Maura's carriage making its way towards her in a muffled clatter of hooves, and she waited for it to stop in front of her. George was bundled up in a thick wool coat, his scarf pulled high up above his nose, and his top hat screwed firmly on his head. Jane could see his breath swirling in a white cloud around his face.

The tall American climbed into the coach and slumped onto the bench next to Maura. With just a tired glance, they knew their search hadn't yielded any results, and that they had nothing exciting to share. Jane tossed a few paper-wrapped packets onto the pile on the opposite bench.

It had been three days of this already.

"Girls, you've been bringing back so much meat that we'll be eating stew and sausage for every meal for the next month!" Angela lamented when they stopped by the kitchen to drop off their clues.

Jane double checked her notes, making sure they had identified what color twine each butcher used, or if they weren't using any. They hadn't always bought something, if they'd spotted a twine radically different from the one they'd found in Mitre Square, but when there had been any doubt, they had purchased a small amount of meat to take home and get a sample of the tie they'd use.

They would carefully label every piece of twine and take it down to Maura's laboratory to compare to the original. A few were a match, and they had noted the names of the butchers they came from.

In truth, both women had been hoping for a more dramatic break-through, like finding themselves face to face with the killer. His face would drop when they would enquire about deliveries to some of the crime scenes, revealing himself, and he would try to escape. But Jane would catch up to him and tackle him to the ground. In his room, they would find morbid evidence of his crimes and it would be the end of the autumn of terror. Voila!

But they had not had such luck. It had been a grueling three days walking through Whitechapel, first making a list of the butchers and street markets in the neighborhood with the reluctant help of the residents, then visiting each of them under false pretenses, obtaining twine and accumulating meat packages that they'd bring back to Jean-Pierre at the end of the day. At least the weather had been frigid and the meat wouldn't spoil.

Soaking in the warm bath, Maura was gently massaging Jane's feet in her lap. The brunette would always end up walking more, because Maura had been doing her rounds with George in the carriage.

Jane opened her eyes and met Maura's loving gaze.

"Thank you. You're good to me," she said softly.

"You have some prize blisters here, love. Tomorrow we will change places and you can ride in the carriage." Maura replied in the same soft voice, still stroking Jane's sore feet.

"No, I'm fine, really. I want you to stay with George. I can't have you look for the Ripper alone in Whitechapel, in the fog no less."

Maura sighed and nodded. "How about we just stay together then? Let's not split up."

Jane shrugged, pondering how many more stores and stalls they had to visit. They were almost done with Whitechapel, but if they didn't find anything there, they'd have to widen their search.

"I miss you," Maura whispered.

The American smiled and nodded. "I miss you too... Together then?" She lifted her aching feet in front of Maura's face and wiggled her toes. "It'll be nice to get a break."

They climbed in bed and Maura snuggled up close with her head on Jane's shoulder, as she did every night. Jane's long arms held her fast. They kissed goodnight and it only took a few seconds for them to fall asleep, their minds drained and bodies spent. They had another long day ahead of them.

The next day dawned foggy again, and the fog was perhaps even colder and thicker than the day before.

The air had taken on that odd yellow-green tinge that had given rise to the Londoners' nickname for their fog, the Pea-Souper. Jane thought the fog smelled, and tasted, foul. The air was almost chewable. Maura, the Londoner, seemed not even to notice.

The women spoke little. Perhaps it was because they were tired. At least they were riding together, but they'd still walk though the markets and when shops were close together. The day stretched without any obvious breakthroughs. None of the butchers seemed to fit the profile they had made from the witnesses' descriptions, none of them seemed crazy or reacted strangely to their inquiries. They just got the hurried, impatient answers that working people gave when asked about things unrelated to their immediate occupation. Maura usually ended up buying a piece of meat, and insisted on getting it wrapped properly. Jane would just give them her signature squint and toss them a coin. She'd get a nasty look back, but they'd always take the coin.

The day grew dark early again, it was only four when dim lantern lights started appearing at windows. By four thirty, it was dark in the streets. They pushed on until six and found they had exhausted all the butcher shops in Whitechapel and the neighboring districts. It was time to go home. They felt lost and defeated. They headed back to the carriage, parked a few streets away.

Jane was walking close to Maura, holding her hand. It reminded her too much of the night she'd lost her. She clenched her jaw and felt her throat tighten, just thinking about it. She squeezed Maura's hand and the Noblewoman looked at her. They didn't smile, Maura was thinking the same thing.

Without noticing, they started walking faster as soon as they saw the carriage. They both exhaled in relief. Jane opened the door for Maura.

"Home!" she told George, loud enough for him to hear through his scarf, and he gave her a nod.

The carriage lurched forward in a clatter.

"Jane?"

"Mmmh?" Jane was still holding Maura's hand on her lap. She was smoothing her thumb over her knuckles. She looked up at Maura.

"Do you think we should go to the police?"

Jane shrugged and sighed. "We don't have anything to tell them, do we? What do you think they'll do? We'll just get everyone in trouble again."

Maura nodded slowly.

"He might not even be around," Jane finally said, looking out the window.

Maura's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Have you noticed he only kills about once every month? With several weeks in between? He might be like my brother, at sea most of the time, or working outside London, like poor Kate, in the country picking hops down in Kent. He might not even live in London. He might just kill when he's in town..."

"Oh Jane," Maura sighed, letting her head fall back against the back wall, "This is pure madness! Are we foolish enough to think we can find him, arrest him and bring him to justice? By ourselves? When the entire metropolitan police force have tried and failed? It's barmy!"

Jane shrugged again and brought Maura's hand to her lips. She kept it there for a few seconds, gently rubbing her lips on the back of her hand, inhaling her skin. She smiled and closed her eyes.

"Why don't we take a day off tomorrow? If he stays on schedule, we have three or four weeks before he kills again." Jane finally offered, and gave Maura her hand back. The Noblewoman didn't let her though, and took her hand in turn. She leaned closer to Jane and rested her head on her shoulder. They sat in silence, staring at nothing in particular for a few minutes, when Maura glanced through the window. She squinted to make out the dark shapes through the fog, and sat up suddenly, startling Jane.

"What? Did you have an idea?"

"Where on earth are we? This is not the way home!"

Maura got up, unsteady in the moving carriage, and slid the small front panel aside to talk to her driver.

"George! Where are we going? Are we taking a detour?"

George didn't answer. He snapped the reins and the carriage bounced forward, causing Maura to fall backwards on the bench. Jane reached out and steadied her. They looked at each other, and Jane felt the cold prickle of goose bumps crawl up her back. It made her hair stand at the back of her neck.

"That's not George," she stated, surprisingly calm.

The horses accelerated to a gallop, making it impossible to stand in the carriage. Jostled inside, Jane took Maura into her arms. She made a quick inventory of their possessions, amounting to packages of meat, a pencil and a small note book. She reached for the door, but it was locked from outside. Frantic, she opened the small window and yelled at the top of her lungs: "HELP! Stop the carriage!" but her voice was drowned in the noise of hooves and wheel clatter, and muffled by the fog. She couldn't see anyone outside anyway, they were careening along the bank of the Thames, dark and deserted.

The carriage took a sudden turn and the cobblestone gave way to a rougher, more bumpy road. The coach jumped violently and Jane fell back on the bench. As they landed, the glass on the right window shattered, and before she could lift her hand up to shield herself, Jane felt the small shards hit her face like cold rain.

"Maura watch out!" She wrapped Maura in her arms, and the carriage bounced a few more times. Like a gunshot, one of the axles snapped and they launched up. The coach stayed suspended in the air for a second and started banking to the side. "Oh fuck..." Jane heard herself say.

They crashed down and the hefty carriage tipped over to the left side, where the wheel had snapped, threatening to go into a spin. Despite the deafening rumble, Jane heard her own skull produce a hard thud when it hit the front panel as they came to a dead stop. She thought "Maura..., " and everything went dark and silent.