Cemetery

Jane Carson's funeral. Other prostitutes are there, Bertha, Stella, Jennie, and Mary Kelly, as well as a few other mourners. Abberline and Godley approach.
Godley: "Aye, to die and go we know not where. To lie in cold obstruction and to rot."
Abberline: A simple "rest in peace" would suffice, Godley.
Godley: Yes, sir.
Minister: In the midst of life we are in death. Of whom may we seek for succor, but of Thee, oh Lord? Who, for our sins, are justly displeased. Yet, oh Lord, God, mercifully, oh Lord, most mighty . . .

As they lower the wooden box into the earth, they drop it and the shock jars loose a plank. The people on the edges of the hole gasp as the corpse's pale face is revealed. Mary Kelly drops her flowers into the grave and turns away, quickly. Nearby a crow, reminder of scavengers, caws. The prostitutes leave the graveside and encounter Abberline and Godley.

Abberline: Good afternoon ladies. I'm Inspector Abberline, this is Sgt. Godley. We're investigating the murders of Jane Carson and Megan Briggs.
Godley: Yes, we're looking for friends of theirs. We were rather hoping you ladies would be able to help us out.

The prostitutes smirk at each other, giving both men appraising looks. Stella sashays forward and stops well inside Abberline's personal space.

Stella: I'll tell you anything you want to know, Inspector. Anywhere you want to know it.
Abberline: (unmoved) What's your name?
Stella: (ponders) Polly Nichols. I was real good friends with Jane. I could be real good friends with you. (looks at Godley) Or with your sergeant, here.
Stella leans in as if to kiss Abberline, and sniffs.
Stella: Nice perfume, Inspector.
Stella slides over to Godley. Jennie and Bertha both sidle up to an unimpressed Abberline.
Godley: (holds out his hand to keep Stella at a distance) Now, none of that. Can you tell us anything about Jane Carson or not?
Stella: I don't know nothing. (she leaves)

Jennie and Bertha work either side of Abberline, running their hands through his hair, and stroking his jacket. Abberline looks bored.

Abberline: What are your names?
Bertha: I'm Kate Eddowes.
Jennie: And I'm Annie Chapman.
Abberline: I see. Did either of you see Jane Carson the night she was killed?
Jennie: Who's Jane Carson?
Bertha: Never heard of her.
Abberline removes Jennie's hand which had been stroking perilously low.
Abberline: You've never heard of her, but you've come to her funeral. If you don't cooperate, we can't help you.
Bertha: You can't help us anyway. (she leaves)

Jennie makes one truly lascivious pass in front of Abberline, rubbing against him. Godley watches, amazed, but Abberline has no reaction.

Jennie: You're a cold one. (leaves. Only Mary Kelly remains)
Abberline: You're Mary Kelly, isn't that right?
Mary: I remember you, too, Inspector.
Mary steps up to stand as close to him as Stella did. Abberline looks uneasy.
Mary: It was you figured out it wasn't me the Ripper killed.
She leans in, and, unlike his reaction to the other prostitutes, Abberline responds to her. He stiffens, gasps a little, and blinks. Godley looks even more amazed.
Mary: You know, I wouldn't have minded everyone thinking I was dead. Maybe I could have made a fresh start.
Abberline: Well, Mary Kelly, unless one of you is willing to talk to us about Jane Carson's friends, enemies, and general habits, I can't do nothing.
Mary: Surely, Inspector, a strong handsome man like you. You could do anything you put your brilliant mind to.
The intimacy is too intense for Abberline. He steps back and takes a deep breath.

Mary: (changing her tone) I'm a coward and a weakling and I can't help myself. What's your excuse? Why are you so bloody useless?

Mary leaves. Godley and Abberline exchange slightly sheepish looks.

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Warren's Office

Abberline: I need to consult a doctor.
Warren: Are you ill, Inspector?
Abberline: Sir William Gull, to be exact.
Warren: No.
Abberline: Why not?
Warren: Are you questioning my decision?
Abberline: No sir. I'm just asking why not?
Warren: Sir William has taken the previous business very badly. He won't see you.
Abberline: I'm a police Inspector investigating a homicide.
Warren: And he is physician ordinary to the Royal Family. Don't get above yourself, Inspector.
Abberline: You could arrange it, sir. He's the only surgeon who knows these killings were not done by the Ripper. I need him to help me know where this killer's knowledge of Jack fails. How similar is his technique? Is he someone who assisted the Prince in his killings, or does he only know what was reported in the papers? Only Sir William can tell me this.
Warren: No, I forbid it. You have the police surgeon at your service.
Abberline: I need a man with a strong stomach and a sober mind. The police surgeon has neither.
Warren: How sober is your own mind, Inspector? I said, I forbid it.

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