A/N: So, it's been a while. Life has kicked me in the teeth for some time but hopefully I can get back on track with this story. After I've managed to recover the chapters that I've written since I've had to change my computer twice. Haven't had time to properly proof read this but I hope y'all enjoy it.

Chapter 5

The following morning found the team at their desks, with Joseph watching through the doors of his office. The incident room was filled with indistinct chatter as each member followed possible leads. McCormack stood and walked towards the Sergeant as he asked the question, "Who's let off?"

"You're a detective," Sanders threw a balled-up piece of paper in his direction, "Work it ou-" His sentence was cut off when he coughed at the perfumed cloud of air that was sent in his direction.

Will had grabbed the can of air freshener from her desk, a necessity she's soon realised after starting at the station, held the nozzle down for a good few seconds, all the while not looking up from her computer screen.

Sanders continued coughing. "You trying to kill me, Will?" He threw more balled paper, something she expertly dodged.

She merely hummed, not to be distracted, "That's the plan. Can't stink up the place if you're dead." She sent a cheeky smile over the top of her monitor and carried on with what she was doing. Kent giggled from his desk.

Joseph watched the interaction with interest. He's been worried about how she coped with the mess of her work environment, and the thought that it possibly caused her bad days did cross his mind. Seeing that she always had ways to combat falling into the pit, eased him slightly, but the fact that she had to deal with it at all still unsettled him. The fact that he now had to deal with it as well unsettled him even more.

"Tell him to wait upstairs." Fitz' voice was audible over the chatter, and Will's eyes trailed after him as he walked to the DI's office. He knocked on the window and leant around the doorway, "Got a bloke upstairs, says he knows everything about the murder."

The DI eagerly stood and walked through the incident room, not pausing as he whistled and called out "Miles" and left.

"I beg your pardon?" The older man quipped as he stood, causing Will to let out a loud laugh. She stopped when he pinned her with a glare and gestured for her to follow.

She'd decided on some flat-heeled boots that morning and was thankful as she hurried up the stairs after them, another whistle both her and Miles as a joke. More giggles escaped her lips.

"Sorry, Skip." Humour was still clear in her voice. Miles Just shook his head and continued up the stairs.

The witness was in one of the interview rooms upstairs. Joseph was sat across from a plump man, who had left his coat on and had glasses hanging from a chain around his neck. Both of them briefly looked up as Miles and Will entered the room, the latter wrapping the long cardigan she wore tighter around herself. It was cold for August and the heating had yet to kick in apparently.

Miles situated himself by the window opposite the door and Will took one of the other chairs at the table, to the right of the DI. Joesph broke the silence.

"in your own time, Mr Buchan."

The man, Buchan, shifted slightly before launching into his testimony, "She was lying on her back. Skirts pulled up. She looked like she was drunk." He started at the table. "Her throat was cut and her stomach had been mutilated." The detectives shared a glance amongst themselves whilst Buchan ran his tongue across his teeth behind closed lips.

"You saw the mutilation?" Questioned Miles. Could this actually lead them somewhere?

Buchan's eyes darted back and forth, "Not exactly." What the hell did that mean?

The man's attention was drawn back to Joseph as he asked, "Where were you standing when you saw Cathy Lane's body?"

"Oh, I wasn't there." The response had both Joseph and Will squinting in confusion; green eyes looked to their left as if to ask what to do. He wished he had an answer.

Buchan continued, oblivious to their silent conversation. "Mary Ann Nichols was the first canonical victim of Jack the Ripper," He sounded more enthused than when the interview had begun, "She died on the 31st of August 1888."

Miles lost interest in the entire thing quickly, "So? Jesus Christ." Will shared the sentiment but refused to voice it.

Their 'witness' became more animated the more he talked, "Same date, same time of night! She also died next to a board school." Will hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose as Buchan stared at Jo, an almost smug look covering his features, "I was describing her injuries to you."

"I don't bloody believe this."

Joseph could tell this was something that his colleagues had encountered before from their reactions. Will only pinched the bridge of her nose when she was particularly exasperated about something. Was this a common occurrence in Whitechapel?

The leather bag that Buchan had brought with him was suddenly opened. "My book," He pulled a hardback from the bag and placed it in front of Joesph, "It has all the canonical murders and some other events that I think were linked." The DI began to leaf through the pages if only to humour the man opposite him. "I believe the man who killed your lady was copying Jack the Ripper.

"I'll bet she was laying on her back, head pointing East," He looked at both Miles and Will in turn, "eyes open, hands by her sides, palms open," his hand lifted and pointed two evenly spaced fingers just to the left of Joseph, "legs out straight, slightly parted. A perfect recreation."

Will placed her head on her hand, "You're a Ripperologist, aren't you?" It was as if she was forcing the words out.

"Well, yes, I am! And," He once again reached into his bag, "I host an excellent Ripper tour." He placed the leaflet onto the table in front of Will. "A lot of operators use their tours to promote very inaccurate theories, but I pride myself on the strict adherence to the known facts." He tapped a finger against the leaflet to punctuate what he was saying.

"Well here's a fact," Miles leaned between Joseph and Will and slid the leaflet back towards Buchan, "You're a loser." He finished a sneer across his face. "Now get out before I nick you for wasting police time." He pulled the door open and looked at the man expectantly.

The book still lay between Joseph's hands and a muscle in his jaw jumped as he debated what to do with it. He ultimately slid the book back towards its author, before a hand stopped him. "You can keep the book. It'll help you predict what the killer will do next." He cinched the clasp of his bag shut. "There are at least 4 more deaths to come if I'm right."

He stood as Miles nearly shouted "Out!" and paused near the door to address him.

"You should be grateful. I'm giving you a head start." He spoke in a low tone before turning back to Joseph and Will, "They never caught the Ripper, and now time and history have spirited away his identity away."

"Get out." Miles was getting impatient.

Joseph stared back. This case kept bringing up issues. How many more curveballs were going to be thrown at him? Would he have time to bat them away? "Thank you for your time."

"Go on." Miles almost slammed the door shut behind Buchan. Will placed her forehead on the cool wood of the table. "Every time there's a stabbing in Whitechapel," the DS grabbed the book that Jo was once again flicking through, careful not to hit Will's head. "they come crawling out the woodwork." He threw the book into the empty bin and grabbed the door, "I hate Ripperologists." And out he went.

Joseph glanced at the redhead beside him. Her head was still down and he placed a hand against her back, "You okay?"

She groaned before lifting her head. "He's not wrong; they always appear when we appeal for witnesses. But," She fiddled with a loose string on her cardigan and looked at Joseph from under her lashes, "No one has ever given that accurate a description before. Of the body, of the crime scene, nothing like that."

"So, you think it could be a copycat?" Joseph raised an eyebrow.

"No!" She lowered her volume, "No... I don't know!" Her fingers were once again on her nose. "I guess, just leave it as a last resort? There must be some other things we can look into first." She locked eyes with him, "C'mon. Let's get back downstairs."

Joseph sent one last look towards the book in the bin. Last resort. Or something he could look into in his own time?

Now back in the incident room, Will situated herself at her desk whilst everyone else gathered around to face the chalkboard. Kent was perched on the edge of Will's desk, and Sanders had his feet up on the desk adjacent to hers. McCormack chose to stand behind Kent, and Miles kept to the back of the room, leaning against the doors of Joseph's office.

Fitz walked in and around the board, sipping from a to-go coffee cup and his coat slung over his shoulder as Joseph was placing Cathy's photograph on the board. He took a long pull from his cup and watched as the picture was re-positioned, smiling when Joseph turned his head.

The DI turned to face the officers in the room, Fitz slowly making his way to a desk behind Sanders.

"Right." He cleared his throat and tapped a piece of chalk against the board. "Forensics?"

"There's nothing," Kent shook his head, "no prints, no fibres, no DNA. Nothing." His lips twisted in a silent apology.

"Witnesses?"

Fitz removed some crumbs off of his desk with a broad sweep of his hand. Both Joseph and Will glanced at him, the latter in mild annoyance. "Nobody heard anything." He finally sat down on the table edge and shrugged. "Well they all knew there was a fire, there was the noise of the fire engine. But no one heard a scream or a struggle, nothing."

"Well, Mary Bousfield is a witness." Joseph pointed at her name on the board and then at Fitz, "Talk to her again. See if she remembers anything else.

"Friends and Family?"

McCormack spoke next, "Well everyone, Will and I spoke to was very upset."

"There were no enemies." Will tapped her pen against her notepad, "So no motive." She sounded almost despondent.

Jo turned back to the board, "Right, so we've got no physical evidence, no witnesses..." He started to look how Will felt, "No known... No known motive. Right." He swallowed.

Looking back at the faces in front of him, they seemed just as hopeless. He was met with either blank stares or seeking eyes. Glancing at Will, he could see she didn't look much better. He'd seen that expression before, on days when it seemed that a case was going nowhere. He didn't think he'd ever be sharing it with her.

"Right, I want everything done again." His voice was much stronger, determined almost, "Knock on every door again," There was a collective sigh around the room, "talk to Cathy's friends again and go through every minute of CCTV agai-"

He was cut off by a loud belch that came from Sanders. Everyone bar two laughed. Will's face was scrunched up in disgust and she dove for the air freshener but Kent grabbed her wrist before she could suffocate Sanders with the spray. Joseph was also at his breaking point.

"How can you conduct an inquiry like this?" He scoffed spreading out his arms. The laughter died down. In the back, Miles' face became stony again. "I mean look at the state of you, look at your desks! Will is the only one with some semblance of order. There could be actions here. Clean it up and log it in.

"I want paperless desks," He grabbed a wire mesh bin from the floor and threw some crumpled paper into it. Will pulled her wrist from Kent's grasp, concern filling her face. Joseph was about to snap and she didn't know if she'd be able to help this time.

Joseph moved to another desk, "Use your bins, see?" He was shovelling paper into the bin, "Use your bins. And empty them at the end of every night." He was speaking through gritted teeth in an effort not to shout. "Who's the office manager her?"

No one answered for a moment. Will was becoming increasingly worried and slowly stood.

"Well?" Rang throughout the room.

"Jo..." Will's voice was quiet, a near whisper, her eyes like dinner plates. The only one closest to hear her plea was Kent, a plan to talk to her formulating in his mind.

McCormack broke the heavy silence and lifted the hand that was holding part of a sandwich, "I am, sir." He mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

"Sort it out, McCormack!" A finger was pointed at the Scotsman. "It's a disgrace!

"And haven- haven't you heard of showers? I know 90% of this team is men, but for God's sake, have some decency. And irons?" His face was livid at this point. For the first time in 3 years, Will didn't know how to help him. She'd never felt so helpless.

"I mean, where are your ties? Where's your tie? Get your feet down!" He shoved Sanders' feet from their place on the desk. "Where's your tie?" He repeated.

"I'll get one." Came the petulant response.

"It's no bloody surprise," The vein on the side of his head was visible, "that the potential witnesses aren't talking! Only Will looks professional! And it smells in here! The air freshener can only do so much!" The aforementioned started to reach out to him when he rushed towards his office.

"Get yourselves organised. Self-discipline, self-respect, deodorant. Go!" The last word was punctuated by Joseph slamming a roller chair into the desk it was near.

When he reached his office, Will noticed the look on Miles' face and a sudden burst of energy filled her, "Ray!" She didn't often call him by his first name.

The DI was situated behind his desk when Miles pointed back through the doors into the incident room, "This is what real policemen look like!" Will stopped in the doorway and directed a flinty look at her sergeant. "This is what real policemen smell like!

"I wouldn't expect you to understand." He sneered, "All your course, they may look good on paper, but they count for nothing here!" His hand slammed down on the desk. "We're not paper policemen!" He stormed past the woman in the doorway. "This is a murder investigation, not a beauty contest!"

The redhead snapped. "Oh, for God's sake!" Will yelled, "Pack it in already!"

All activity ceased. Miles stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned. It wasn't often that Will shouted at anybody, let alone the Sarge. She hadn't moved from her spot and crossed her arms before slowly shaking her head.

"Excuse me?" Miles uttered.

"You're excused." She snarled back. "I've had enough of this. From the lot of you. You all judge people before giving them an actual chance to prove their worth, and then lash out 'cause you don't like hearing the truth!" Her voice was slowly rising in volume, "God knows I've tried to get you to clean up after yourselves, but maybe you'll actually listen to someone that doesn't have a vagina between their legs!" She sent piercing looks at each of them, now looking properly contrite, ending on Miles, "Paper policeman or not, he's still your boss." And with that, she marched from the incident room, grabbing her bag on the way.

Joseph had risen from his seat to watch in stunned awe at the woman he loved talk back to a man he knew she respected highly. He knew it took a lot for her to get truly angry and couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at the fact that he was the cause of such friction between her and her team. Perhaps working together wasn't such a good idea. A ping from his mobile diverted his attention.

-I'm grabbing some food; do you want any? x

Even when absolutely livid, she still thought of others. Flicking his gaze upwards, he could see the officers had started doing as he'd asked. Were they more afraid of being sanctioned by him or of Will's wrath? Probably the latter.

-No, I packed something after you left this morning. Are you okay?

-Yeah. Be better after food. Sorry for blowing up

-So am I. Get your food and come straight back. Clearly you help keep them in line.

-Ha, clearly. See you soon xx

Maybe he was wrong. They could deal with each other at home, and they obviously needed each other at work too. Hopefully the headaches would ease too, or he'd need another pot of tiger balm before the inquiry was over.