Just a note to say that the rest of this will be coming at a slower pace because this is as far as I've got in the writing process so far!
It was a river that greeted them, winding its sullen way through the darkness to deposit its treasures on an unused landing pier. Guarding the prize was another helmeted policeman, grim-faced and all but indistinguishable from the man they'd been talking to minutes ago.
"What happened here?" the Doctor asked, pulling his usual authority around him like a cloak.
"Body, sir, from the river. It don't look natural to me, what with the...er, the gnawing, sir." The policeman looked vaguely embarrassed at the improbability of it, but the Doctor was already kneeling next to the bloated corpse. "I see what you mean. The teeth marks...look rodent...but they're far too large for that."
"I couldn't say, sir. But it's unnatural, what with this being the third body an' all. And them women goin' missing too. I don't like it, not one bit."
"Hmm." The Doctor stood again, chucking the end of his scarf over one shoulder, and glanced over at Sarah. "What do you say, Sarah?"
She stepped closer, forcing herself to study the body with care. "You're right about the teeth marks," she said eventually. "I suppose we're a hundred years early for forensics."
"Oh, the eye tells a lot more than you would think," the Doctor said. "For example..." He bent down, brushed what looked to be a length of stiff string from underneath the tattered clothes and frowned to himself. His eyes flicked up to the policeman. "I think you should get this chap to the nearest mortuary. Have someone look at him."
"Don't see as why not," said the Constable. "Last one went to Professor Litefoot, far as I remember - I'll send this one to join 'im."
"Thank you." Standing again, the Doctor laid a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "I need you to go to the mortuary."
"What about you?"
He sees nothing but curiosity in her eyes and wonders at her fearlessness. She's always been brave but there was a time when her eyes would have screamed worry and concern, and he would have smiled and told her not to be silly, of course he'd be fine. Now he sighs. "I'm beginning to wonder why we're here."
She connects the dots with familiar lightning speed. "You think someone put that door there on purpose."
"The thought had crossed my mind."
Sarah's eyes sparkle. "Alright, Doctor. I'll tackle the pathologist, you go chase the kind of people who like to put doors in mid-air."
"Well, it's a hobby, of sorts," he says with deliberate cheer. "Probably an accident."
He notices the moment the sparkle leaves her eyes. "Doctor...how will you get back? You said it yourself: the TARDIS isn't good at precision landings. How do you know you're not going to strand me here for the rest of my life? How do you-"
He interrupts her with a finger to her lips. The policeman is staring at them. "I'm not going through any doors, Sarah," he reassures her. "Not without you."
"Forgive me if I'm not entirely confident in your abilities."
"You wound me."
She rolls her eyes and he knows everything's okay.
The heavy fog was, oddly enough, more comforting than disquieting. It hung like clouds dropped to street-level, obscuring the upper windows of the taller houses and turning the gloom in to something altogether more atmospheric.
It was only a short carriage journey to what was obviously the pathologist's laboratory. Sarah hesitated to call it a lab, really: from the outside it was little more than a grubby house, squashed between two equally downtrodden buildings. With a quick smile to the cabbie she stepped out of the carriage and across the pavement. She was just about to reach for the door when it was opened from the other side and a young lady walked out on to the street, casting her eyes warily around before settling her gaze on Sarah. She cocked her head to one side and considered her carefully. "You are dressed strangely," was all she said.
"I've travelled a long way," Sarah replied, a little nonplussed by the abrupt greeting. She'd assumed
that the era warranted a little more decorum.
"You are looking for the Professor?"
"The Professor? Oh, you mean the pathologist. Professor Litefoot, I think - yes, I'm looking for him. I'm meant to be getting his opinion on a body."
The strange woman didn't seem disconcerted by that statement. Instead she smiled an oddly appreciative smile. "He is not busy."
"Um...thank you."
She was about to open the door when the other woman started and shrank back against the wall. "Do not move," she hissed. "There is something coming!"
Confused, Sarah let herself be pulled against the wall and peered down the street in to the fog. "I don't see anything!"
"There was a man watching us. He was not behaving according to the accepted rules of this society." She leaned forward a little, concentration on her face. "But he has gone."
Sarah relaxed and fixed her companion with a knowing look. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"I do not understand the customs of this place. Should I have introduced myself?"
"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm not exactly up with the times." She held out a hand. "I'm Sarah Jane Smith."
The woman grasped it with surprising firmness. "I am Leela," she said. "Leela of the Sevateem."