Jonathan watched her leave. He stood in the doorway, and kept watch over her until even her silhouette was unseen. He just hoped that she got home safely. As he watched her remains leave his line of sight, he turned to lock the door up. When he had done so, he realised that he had left his briefcase inside, so he unlocked the door again. He stepped inside. He looked for it, but it wasn't where he thought it was. It wasn't at his desk, so where the hell was it?

He went into the backroom. This was where a lot of the evidence was. It was also where most of the meetings were held. Then he saw it. He walked over to his bag, and picked it up. As he stood back up, something fell out of it. He picked it up, and realised that it was a photograph. It wasn't one of those evidence pictures, but of a woman that was alive. Well, she was alive when the picture had been taken. Now she was just a figment of memory in the back of Jonathan mind. At times, he had been forced to drive it to the back of his mind, and, as a result, he had forgotten about her sometimes. The woman's name was Annabelle, She was a beautiful lady, with long blonde hair, and she always wore dresses that flattered her even more. Unfortunately, Jonathan's wife had been involved in a murder. Now Annabelle was gone, leaving Jonathan to pick up her remains, and become a detective. It had been over three years since she had passed away now, so on the second year, he had decided to start a new life. Unfortunately, things hadn't gone to plan. First the job got boring, then he became so wrapped up in work that he didn't have enough time to do other things, then friend weren't there for him… Then the Ripper case came up. He thought about quitting, but then the girl of his dreams made an appearance. She had gone off with someone else, and he wasn't the in the best state of moods, so he let every single emotion out in three simple words: 'I love you'. She accepted, but now she has decided to go off.

'She's pretty… Almost like Miss Lisa is!' came a voice behind him.

He turned, but didn't see anyone.

'Show yourself…' he began.

'Why? You already know who I am. Why bother asking? After all, people like you don't go very far in life. Just like that Abberline!' The voice said.

'What are you talking about/ you didn't get him, the drink did!'

'Well, it was me that made him drink so much that night. You know, with all the pressure and whathavyou… The same thing will happen to you…'

'No it won't…'

'Yes it will. It may not be something like drink, but… I don't know, say something like Lisa? Or Annabelle?'

'What about them?'

'I saw how you were earlier tonight. Your face when you saw us… canoodling... back there…' it laughed.

'So what about Anna? Jon asked. He was going to forget the Lisa comment.

'She died. I know how. And by whom… Can you guess?'

Jonathan got the picture. Jack had murdered Annabelle; his next was going to be Lisa.

'But why do all this?' he asked.

'You're very calm, aren't you? Well, I would do it to get you idiots off my back. For one…'

'And the other?' Jon asked. He braced himself for the answer.

'Maybe I just find it fun…' the voice laughed.

That was it. How could someone find it fun? Cutting innocent women to shreds for personal enjoyment. Jon lunged at Jack. As Jack tried to fight him off, he spoke again.

'Don't tell me that you've never heard the rhyme?' he asked.

'No. And I don't want to, either!' Jon answered, still throwing punches. Jack, being Jack, ignored his plea and started to sing;

'Eight little whores, with no hope in Heaven,

Gladstone may save one, then there'll be seven.

Seven little whores begging for a shilling,

One stays in Henage Court, then there's a killing…'

Jon blocked out the rest. He had heard it, and hated it. It was cruel, and it was uncalled for. As they continued to fight, the door opened. Oblivious, they both carried on. When the vistitor came in, she just stood quietly, both shocked and confused.