"You were right. He killed again. Twice in one night."

Jane and Vivian stood in a side street just off Kensington. This street was a few blocks away from last night's fire. Before them lied another woman. He'd cut her in the exact fashion as the first, but he'd finished. They'd placed a blanket over the body for the inch of dignity left. Jane couldn't have felt more disappointed. Uniformed officers kept a barrier between the onlookers and the scene. Moss would have a hard time keeping this a secret. Jane walked around the corpse. Lifting up the blanket, she saw the typical slashes about the throat and bosom. She wasn't sure what he'd taken this time. Judging by the groin lacerations, it wasn't any different. Jane felt instant regret. She should've caught him. If she'd looked out for him, she could've caught him.

"There's not much here, Ms. Dawes." Moss walked over to her, and sighed, "He gave us the slip again."

"No," she said. She stared around the perimeter, "You're just not looking hard enough. Tell me about the victims."

"Well, the first was Abigail March," he said. "She was a mother of two and worked in a bakery."

"A mother of two who worked in a bakery?"

"What about the second?"

"Victoria Graham, a seamstress from Kensington."

"A baker and a seamstress?" Vivian questions. "That doesn't make any sense. He kills women he thinks are beneath him. Prostitutes are usually the first ones."

"He thinks all women are beneath him," she answered. "Prostitutes are at the bottom. Now, he's moved on to women who have feminine jobs."

"What?" Moss raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, he considers sewing and baking for women." Jane scanned the body from beneath the sheet. She found no sign of anything shiny. She supposed it'd fallen deep inside her like the third victim. Then she examined Victoria's hand. "See?" she motioned for a glove, which she used to retrieve the penny. "He left a coin just like the others. He's building his own signature now."

"So, he's not such a copycat anymore," Vivian said.

"No, he's still sticking to them," she said. "He's adding his own twist. Moss, have them both taken to the mortuary-"

"-Already done, Miss." When Jane gave him an impressed look, he said, "I thought it'd be the most logical thing to do. You can study them there without any interruptions."

"Vivian?" Jane turned to her, "Will you look at them?"

Vivian nodded, "I'll stay to look them over, and then I'm gone."

"James will miss his mother," Jane told her. "Your own will just nag at you."

"I'm used to her nagging," she said. "I know my son is in good hands, despite how reluctant they are."

"Ms. Dawes! Excuse me, Ms. Dawes?"

A bespectacled gentleman waving a notepad stood with the crowd. "Gerald Irons," he said, "Evening Dispatch! Might I ask a few questions, please? It's for the paper!"

"No comment, Mr. Irons," Jane called back.

"Mr. Shelby informed me it's gone on for a while, is that true?! Are the police protecting a lunatic?! The people have a right to know!" The crowd stirred at the allegation.

"We are not!" Moss said affronted.

"Mr. Shelby said the crimes are quite gruesome," he said. "Why won't the police release details? What are you hiding, Ms. Dawes?! Who brought you into the case?!"

"No comment."

"Are you by any chance related to Arnold Dawes? The right-hand man of Winston Churchill?"

"Like I said, Mr. Irons, no comment."

Jane turned back to the body. Threads and needles made light marks on her fingertips. Her messy bun told Jane she had been on her way home. The side street leading into Garrison Lane was where he waited for her. Looking at the blood splatter on the wall, he'd gotten her from behind.

"Jane," Vivian said, picking something off the ground, "Look at this."

Jane moved to Vivian. In her hand was a small white packet emblazoned by a white and gold dragon. "How could he drug her?"

Vivian bent down over Victoria, and used a pin to look at the nostrils. "I know how," she said, "She was an addict. Your killer must've known this or suspected. Judging by her shallow face and the dark circles under her eyes, it wouldn't have been hard to spot. Only a doctor would know the signs."

"Or someone who's familiar with the symptoms." Jane crouched beside her.

"Jane, I got a theory."

"Yes?"

"What if that's why he hates women?" she said. "Maybe he knew a woman who abused opium in his childhood, and it made him dislike the weakness of it. Addicts cannot stand being without their libations. This person would've used often and around her child."

"It's a start. We'll know more once we study the other victim."

Jane searched the rest of the area. Seeing the unbuttoned blouse, he did not rip it off her. He didn't need to force her. In the haze of the opium, she might've done it without persuasion.

"Um, Jane?"

Vivian tapped her shoulder and Jane looked around. The policemen made an opening for Tommy to walk in. Jane ignored him. She wasn't interested in speaking to him at the moment. The utter embarrassment of last night lingered in her mind. He'd known. He'd seen the same thing in his army comrades. Jane's episodes weren't as bad as some others, but they caused her restless nights. Tommy knew, and he'd bring it up with her. She lifted the blanket once more. She had cuts like the previous victims. They made with the same knife as well. A medical kit. He had to have some sort of kit.

"Mr. Shelby!" Irons called out to him, "Are you helping in this investigation?!"

"Psh," Jane scoffed to herself, "If only a smidge."

He met Jane at her level, not at all bothered by the mangled corpse. "She wasn't a whore," Tommy said. "I knew her. She worked in a shop Polly goes to."

"Tell your aunt she's going to need a new seamstress."

"Jane," he began, "About last night-"

"-I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"Does that happen often?"

"It's none of your business. Why did you call a reporter?" she asked. "Why did you tell him what I was doing?"

"Because it'll bring Campbell further into the light. People won't trust him if they think he's protecting a murderer."

"What happened to keep law and order in the city? Protecting the people? Was that all just talk to pacify me?"

"People shouldn't trust Campbell to begin with," he said. "His disinterest in these murders proves that much."

"Not to mention his persistence in a stolen shipment of weapons."

"I have that dealt with," he said.

"I can't work if he interferes," she said. "Don't drag me into your little war."

"He won't be bothering you again." When she stared, he said, "I made you part of our deal. I'd give him what he wanted if he agreed to leave my businesses alone. I included your investigation in there as well. I told him you're just a woman doing your job."

"And what did he say?"

'That my protection over you was sweet."

"I don't need protection."

"Of course not," he said, "But it doesn't hurt to have some."

"And you're doing such a wonderful job by bringing in a reporter," she said.

"Is your brother helping you, Ms. Dawes?!" Irons asked. "Is the government covering this up as well?!"

"See?" she said. "They always have some sort of scandalous idea of things. He'll only warp it to fit the paper's agenda." Just as they'd done with The Ripper, they will embellish the story. "And don't you have your own problems right now? I would imagine Campbell isn't happy that you embarrassed him. 'Inspector Raids Innocents' Homes' I believe was the headline?"

"I can handle him," he said.

"Not for long. Whenever they mention The King in the paper, the government must approve it first. I'm sure Winston Churchill read the article. They'll call in someone to sort Campbell out and keep him focused on his true purpose."

They'll call Arnold. He's their cleaner.

"Campbell doesn't know where they are yet."

"He'll find them one way or another. He'll disregard any deal you make with him and arrest you."

"As if you'd care?"

"I wouldn't," she said. "I only warning you."

Tommy paused. She saw his eyes look over her face. They rested on hers for a moment or two. Beneath his cold expression, he admired her. She stared away from him. He then said, "I'm going to the Cheltenham races in a week or so. Would you like to-"

"-No."

"Billy Kimber will be there."

"So?"

"I think you'd like to talk to him."

"Why would I care about a crime lord disguised as a horse track owner?"

"Because, from what I heard, he isn't nice to women."

Jane stopped her examination and looked at him. "What?"

"A girl I know said he forced himself on her," he continued. "He likes hurting them. I thought that might be someone of interest to you. He likes having things his way, you see. He doesn't care too much about what women want or think."

She hesitated, "What's in it for you?"

"What? Can't I want to take a beautiful woman somewhere nice?"

"No," she said. "What do you want with Billy Kimber?"

"I have plans," he said. "They involve meeting Mr. Kimber. I'd like you to come."

"Why? So I can be a bargaining chip? No, thank you. I'm not for sale."

"Jane, I'm only helping you. If you can get close enough, you can learn more about him. I can help you."

"Mr. Shelby-"

"-I think we can skip formalities now-"

"-Tommy," she said, "You can't keep moving between helping and not helping. Pick a side and stay on it."

He gave a small smirk, "I want to help you."

"For the moment."

"No, 'til the end."

"Wouldn't my investigation get in the way of your precious plans?"

"It doesn't now."

"Why?"

"It'd be helpful to your case," he said. "You asked for help and I'm giving it to you. If he turns out not to be your man, then you had a nice time at a horse race. We can even bet against each other if you like. It'd give you a reason to gloat afterward."

"You had me at 'gloat afterward'," she said. She sighed, "What's his type?"

"What?"

"Does he like the shy wallflower, the seductive temptress or the flirty kitten?" she asked. "Most men like him like flirty kittens or wallflowers, but I've never met him."

Tommy said, "I'd say kitten."

She smiled, "Perfect."

"Wear something pretty," he told her, both of them standing together. "Red, like his handkerchief, but then again, I'm nobody to tell you what to wear."

"Exactly," She turned away from him, "Good day, Mr. Shelby."

Red was always her color.

"He asked you out, didn't he?"

Vivian's teasing smile wasn't something she needed at the moment. Jane and she stood in the mortuary of the station. Victoria Graham lied on the slab, already pale and cold since her death. Vivian set to work sterilizing the instruments. "No," she said, "He agreed to help me."

"How?"

"By taking me to meet Billy Kimber," she said.

"Who's he?" Vivian grabbed her pins and forceps and began peeling back the cut skin.

"He owns most of the legal race tracks outside of London," she explained. "He also happens to be the leader of the Birmingham Boys."

"Ah a legal and illegal businessman, eh?"

"Something similar. Thomas says he has an affinity for abusing women. He thinks if I talk to Kimber, I can find out more."

"And you think he'll immediately confess once you ask him?"

"If only it were that easy," she chuckled. "I'll come up with something. Billy Kimber is a big crime boss with an ego-inflated head. I think he'd enjoy a playful sex kitten, don't you?"

Vivian laughed as she put in the last pin. "Most men like him do. I think that lavender dress of yours would be perfect."

"The short one with the beading?"

"That one," she said.

"I was thinking something red," she said. "Tommy said it'd match his-"

"-Oh, I wasn't talking about Kimber. I was talking about Tommy."

"Excuse me?"

Vivian brought a light closer to the exposed organs. "He doesn't have such an outward personality," she said. "He keeps all his emotions behind his stony face. He'd like a cool tone much more than anything vibrant or warm."

"This isn't about impress-"

"-He's a handsome man who's taking you to a nice place," Vivian argued. "When was the last time you went on a date?"

"It's not a date," Jane said. "It's work."

"No, Jane. This is work," she gestured to the body. She looked down and began poking around. "The kidneys are still intact. From what I see, the heart is still in place which makes two of us."

"I don't date, Vivian."

"No, you dip and dash," she said. She felt around the stomach and intestines, "Is it because of last night? Were you embarrassed he saw you that way?"

"I don't care how he saw me…"

Jane felt her stomach knot. Most people never saw her episodes. The only other person who saw them was her landlady. She kept the long, grueling nights to herself. She never shared why she hated painting her own nails. She told people she stuck to a curly long bob because she liked the style. The last person she'd share anything with would be Tommy. "Find anything?"

"Not yet…" she looked a bit more, "Ah-ha. Liver's missing."

"So he takes kidneys and livers," she said. "Those are usually parts of animals people eat."

"Oh God," Vivian groaned, "Don't tell me he's eating them?"

"It's a possibility," Jane said. "It's also likely. The Ripper hinted he'd done the same with the things he took."

"At least we can keep that out of the papers."

"That Irons man talked to you too?"

"He tried," she said. "I didn't tell him anything important. I only cautioned women to be alert when they leave at night."

"Because that's not a dead giveaway."

"It's kept him away for now." She contemplated the body, then said, "Don't you think it's odd that Tommy asked you to go? It'd be much easier for him than if he dragged you along."

"He has other things on his mind," Jane said.

"Like what?"

"Plans."

"What plans?" Vivian began studying other parts of the body.

"Horse track plans," Jane said. "Tommy runs a gambling den that bets on horses. Kimber can help him become legitimate."

"Opium user," Vivian said, "You were right. She used often. There's white powder on the brim of the nostrils. She also has severe damage on the inside. I suspect she's been using for quite a while."

"And Abigail, the other victim?" she asked.

"Same," she said. She handed Jane a notepad, "I noted it when I examined her. At least there's another pattern."

"Women who use or abuse drugs."

"You know," Vivian began, "Tommy might be helping you by helping himself. It's not as bad as you make it sound. People do that all the time."

"Yes, I'm familiar with it, Vivian. My brother works for the government. Is her uterus missing?"

"It is," she answered. "You can't stand there and tell me he's not attractive?"

"He is," she said, "Generally speaking."

"And he thinks you're gorgeous."

"A lot of men do."

She stopped and said, "He was in the war too, you know. John told me he won medals for gallantry. He saved an officer's life in battle."

"So you're friends with John now?"

"We talk when we see one another."

"When do you see him?"

"When he's come in the pub," she said. "He's funny and a lot smarter than he lets on. He's also been quite-"

"-Anything else you found, Viv?"

Vivian pursed her lips, "No. She's the same as the others."

"Good," Jane said.

"What about the coins?"

"Nothing, he used gloves. The only ones there are hers."

"I think we've hit a wall, Jane," she said. "I suppose going to this derby might dig up something for us."

"Maybe."