It took the detectives about an hour to reach the crime scene. By the time Bobby, his arm in a sling, Alex and Cromwell could push their way through the crowd, Hammond was already there. Spotting Bobby, he shot him a triumphant look. Bobby wasn't sure if that look was for the fact that Hammond had beat them there, or the fact that the sling told him Bobby had somehow been hurt, and it pleased him. Which didn't please Bobby at all.
Hammond was just about to tell his men to remove the body, but in a few quick strides Bobby was there. "Hold it!" Bobby said to the men, before they could touch the body. As a crowd of morbid on-lookers closed in, Alex and Cromwell issued orders to stay back, and Bobby crouched down next to the body.
The weather was cold and damp, the air foul smelling and heavy, enough to make one nauseous to begin with. Seeing the horribly mutilated body didn't help. And the murdered body was in extremely bad shape. Part of the face was missing, there were numerous cuts and lacerations, and there was an extremely large incision in the abdomen where the entrails had been removed, and were extending over the body and beyond. Bobby had seen a lot of bad murders where the victim was horribly killed. But nothing this bad. Bobby's stomach rolled, but he still managed his examination of the body.
"She was strangled…" he said, judging by the bruises on her neck. "But he didn't cut her till she was on the ground. She was still alive…when he removed the entrails… The face was cut post-mortem." He could tell most of this from the amount and splatter pattern of the blood.
Bobby took in all the other smaller cuts and marks on the body, then got up quickly, glad to have this part over with.
Hammond had watched Bobby throughout the procedure. He got it right he thought. Got it all right. Have to fix that.
Alex, who had been trying to question people in the crowd, met up with Bobby. Taking one look at the body, she nearly gagged and had to turn away. They glanced at each other, each empathizing with the other's feelings.
Bobby and Alex were both mystified. How could these murders keep
happening, going unnoticed by anyone in a city that was teeming with millions of people, prostitutes on every corner every night and supposedly more police posted on the streets than ever before?
A moment later, Bobby called to Hammond.
Hammond walked over to Bobby, taking his time.
"Whadda you want?" he asked curtly.
"I thought you were going to put more police on? Someone was supposed to be here, in this very spot, all night?"
Hammond actually gave Bobby a shove.
"Now you listen to me you bastard!" he said angrily. "I told you I'm in charge here! If you don't like our methods you can ship yourselves back to America where you belong. And there's less chance of getting hurt."
"Is that some kind of a threat?" Bobby demanded, getting in his face.
Hammond retreated a step. "Just take it as a warning," he said, a smile starting to creep across his face. "Who knows? Maybe the Ripper will decide to take a liking to you."
Bobby ignored him. "Did you have someone at this post last night or not?"
"I already talked to him," Hammond said.
Alex spoke up. "We'd like to interview him ourselves."
"Don't know what good it would do. He never saw anything."
"We'd like to try anyway."
Hammond grudgingly agreed, and called over Constable Waters.
Constable Waters wobbled over. He was exceedingly drunk.
Bobby ran a hand over his face, frustrated. "Son of a bitch!" He was pissed. Pissed because the constable was obviously drunk and derelict in his duties, and because Hammond allowed this kind of thing to go on among his men with no consequences. And especially at a time like this when the man could possibly have some information on the killer.
Alex said, "Of course the guy didn't see anything—he can barely stand up! We need to talk to him as soon as he sobers up!" she finished angrily.
They had the policeman taken back to the police station to sober up. While that was going on they questioned a few of the locals. Nobody saw or heard anything,
Back at the station, the first thing on Bobby and Alex's agenda was to question Ernest Waters, who was now somewhat sober, and alternated between being belligerent and contrite.
"Didn't see nothin' sir. Didn't hear nothin', either," he announced.
"What time did you come on, start your shift?" Alex asked. Bobby kind of stood in the background, listening.
"About nine o'clock, mum."
"And about how many hours do you work?"
"About fourteen hours, mum. And then I try to help my wife out a bit. She's sick, got the black lung we think, and we've, um, got five little ones. The oldest, 'e's only seven, I'm ashamed to say 'e has to take to the streets with 'is little cup."
Bobby and Alex exchanged a glance. A thought shot through Bobby's mind, a fleeting memory of his own seventh year when Bobby first realized his mother wasn't like all the other mothers. His world had been turned upside down, and had never really righted itself. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to the present. In a soft voice he asked, "and when do you sleep, Ernest?"
Ernest shifted uncomfortably. "I don't mean to do it, but sometimes I get me a little drink, when I'm out there at night, just to warm me up y'know, and I might just take me a little nap."
"Okay," Bobby said, "so basically you were asleep out there—how long?"
"Couldn't really say, sir. Ain't got me a timepiece."
"Okay, Ernest," Bobby said, knowing he wasn't going to get anything out of him. "Stay away from the booze, okay? And get some sleep—at home. "
Ernest exhaled deeply. He thought sure he was going to lose his job. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir."
After they were finished interviewing Ernest, Bobby took out his list of suspects. Alex sighed. "Back to square one."
For the next few days, Bobby, Alex and Cromwell went over the list again and again, interviewing the many suspects. They were eliminating many of them, but still hadn't come up with a really good suspect.
Back at Cromwell's house, in the room they'd set up as their office, Bobby said. "Okay, let's go over it again. What do we know about our killer?"
"He's big," Alex replied. "And left-handed." She looked at Bobby. "Better watch it, next thing you know Hammond will be locking you up."
Cromwell gave a little laugh.
Bobby gave her one of his rare little half-smiles. "Well, he might want to lock himself up, too." Bobby was right, Hammond fit the bill every bit as much as him. "Maybe we should add him to our list."
"And the guard," Cromwell said, joining in. "Except he's right-handed."
Bobby went back to looking at the crime scene pictures. "The killer…he'd almost have to have some kind of medical training. Look at these…it's like a surgeon made these cuts. He removed their organs precisely without any injury at all to the surrounding area. We need to check into just the ones with current or a previous medical history."
The next day they were at the police station, checking in with Hammond. He was cooperating with them a little now that Bobby and Alex let him think he was in charge.
"I need to check out the University," Bobby said, referring to the University of London Medical School.
"And I'll talk to some of the ladies," Alex replied. "See if any one of them saw anything and are too afraid to talk. Maybe Jack will even show up."
"Okay," Bobby said. "Guess I'll see you sometime…probably tomorrow evening. And if I should be back late, don't go out by yourself at night."
Alex glared at him. "Bobby, I was doing this stuff long before I ever met you. I think I'm capable of taking care of myself!"
"Alex… c'mon, this is different. We don't have any surveillance equipment, cell phones, microphones…"
"It's okay. I've done this before!" Then in a softer voice she said, "I'll be alright, Bobby. I promise."
"Well, will you at least wait till I get back?"
"I can't promise, Bobby. We're down to a few days. If you're not back by tomorrow night…"
Inspector Hammond, who was finally cooperating a little, said, " If you're a little late, I'll have some of my men check on her constantly. We'll be there if she needs anything at all. She'll be fine. She'll probably catch the guy herself." It was obvious that Hammond at least liked Alex.
Bobby still looked skeptical.
"Too bad you even have to catch this guy," Hammond continued. "Between you and me," he said, "the world's actually better off without the streetwalkers."
Great, Bobby thought. And this is the guy running our investigation?
Alex went on. "And if you're held up for any reason, you'll know where to find me, the same place where the last murder was committed."
At Bobby's doubtful look, Alex said "I'll be fine, Bobby. You have to let me do a little on this case…"
"You have been!" Bobby said.
"Bobby, you are going to check the medical school, and I'm doing my thing. We'll both be fine. And that's the end of it."
Bobby sighed. When Alex made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.
"Alright," Bobby said. But he fully intended to be back early, before Alex ever went out.
Unfortunately for Bobby and Alex, things would not turn out exactly as planned. They were in for a rough couple of days.
tbc