Inquest, Tea, and the 10th of September

George Philips returned to his office in quite a state. He reached for his tonic and downed it hungrily. He had never been subjected to more scrutinizing questioning, nor had he ever had to answer questions in front of so many people.

Well, no wonder, given the nature and brutality of the crime.

As coroner, he had honestly never seen such a sight, for Anne Chapman was positively vivisected.

With no motive, and the only other remarkable thing besides the brutality, was the fact that her uterus had been removed, he thought that that could be a feasible motive. He hadn't been prepared for the outburst following.

There was a knock at his door, and he hesitated. He didn't fancy the press or its interviewers.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"Mr. Philips, I'm Detective Selvig, and I'm here with…erm…" there was some muttering Philips couldn't make out. "Mr. Odinson."

"Who is Mr. Odinson?" he returned, fearful of the press.

"I'm a concerned citizen and merchant in Spitalfields Market," he sounded refined to Philips.

George Philips opened the door warily. "You have those press people with ya?" he asked with a sidelong glance.

"No, I assure you, Mr. Philips. We merely have a few questions for you," and Selvig went in, Loki right behind.

The pair stood in the middle of the room as Philips closed the door shut behind him, a bit of a wary and exhausted look about him. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Well, Mr. Philips, we are here because you mentioned a possible motive in your report, and we were wondering why you thought this and how you received your information…" Selvig rocked on the balls of his feet.

"If you are here to laugh at me or to make comments to the papers…" he began, rounding on them.

"No no," Loki held his hands up. "No. We are curious, because we…" then paused, recalling how Selvig said it would be dangerous to the future of their investigation if he was perceived as siding with Loki on this. "That is, I…rather think that there is something to it."

"What?"

"Your idea concerning motive."

Philips sighed and going to his desk, sat down. "There were indications that this scientist hasn't been in the area for over a year."

"But that doesn't mean that he's stopped looking," replied Loki with a smirk.

"Oh, Mrs. Watson, do let me know! You and your husband have always been such favorites!" Jane said, after learning of Mr. Watson being unwell.

"That we'll do, Miss Fosta…de chill is settlin' early…" she sounded worried.

"It is, isn't it?" Jane responded, worried. The winter always made her fearful for the inhabitants of London, and now her father, becoming increasingly frail…"Let's hope for warm fires and an early spring, eh?" she smiled.

"At leas' with de cold, de girls won' be out…" she said with a shudder.

"Quite right," said Jane as Mrs. Watson left. But she knew differently…desperate for a bed to stave off the chill, the women would continue to walk, for what choice did they have, really?

She hummed softly as she readied up the shop for closing. Loki had gone to Annie Chapman's inquest with Selvig, and she wanted to be alone and ready when they returned. She was nervous…though she couldn't say why she was.

Jane had spent much of the past couple of days in a bit of a haze; she heard what people were saying, but she wasn't really listening. Not even to Loki or her father. She was simultaneously terrified and calm. It almost felt as though she had resigned herself to either never catching this killer, or dying herself in the process.

Neither was particularly beguiling, so she shut herself down. Loki appeared to be rather concerned, so he offered to attend the inquest with Selvig. He seemed as though he was worried she might lose her mind if she attended.

Jane knew that she wasn't as bad as all that. She knew that she was just processing what was happening…her imagination tended to get the better of her. She would see what Loki discovered at the inquest, and act from there.

And if that meant she would be on the streets again, so be it.

She went to the back to brew some tea…

…and heard a disturbance in the alley behind the store.

She swallowed. Surely this was nothing…surely this was a domestic squabble…

There was a thud. Jane went to the back door and pressed her ear to it, listening intently. If she was thinking about it, she would have calmed herself with the knowledge that none of the attacks took place this time of day…

She took a cutting knife from the small table she used to clean and cut herbs and opened the door slowly. Her hands, she noted, were quite steady.

Her breath hitched as she opened it more fully, the late day sun barely reaching the alley, dank and drab with age and soot.

"'e's 'ere! 'ere 'e be!" a man was calling.

Jane threw the door fully wide now, and there stood a terrified John Pizer crouching in the corner. She ran over to him…"John, are you alright?"

"Away from 'im, Miss Fosta, 'e be Leather Apron!"

"I know who he is, you fool!" she spat, turning. "And he committed no crime save scaring a few women."

"'ow can ye know? 'e waves dat knife 'round. 'e roams de streets…" the man was coming upon her.

Jane stood in front of Pizer, her own small knife extended in front of her. Now she shook, but with rage. "You know nothing. Stay clear, or I'll tear your throat!"

There were people advancing in the alley.

And the man turned white. "She threatened me, she did! She be da killer!"

"What?" Jane asked, confused.

"What is going on here?" Jane heard Selvig approaching.

"Oh, Detective Inspector. Here is John Pizer, and here is a man who thinks he knows everything," she said.

"She jus' done threaten me, sir. Wit dat knife. She should be brough' tin."

Selvig looked at Jane. He went to Pizer and took his arm. "Nothing here to see, now," he waved his free arm about, then turned to Jane. "Watch what you're doing, Miss Foster. Now he'll go and start a rumor that you're the killer."

"Oh, tosh," she said. "Take good care of John, here. He's a good sort," and she went back into her shop.

She shook her head as she readied her tea. If Selvig was back, that meant that Loki would be returning soon…

Jane smiled to herself. He was such a source of comfort for her now…

And her brow furrowed…he was a source of comfort? What did that mean?

Jane carried the perplexed look with her into the center of the shop.

"If you're not mindful and heed my advice, you'll end up killed, Jane Foster."

"Loki!" he had snuck in without her knowledge. She set her tea down and went to him, smiling. "What happened at the inquest?"

"You forgot something," Loki smiled and sat down.

She frowned, a bit confused. "I…"

"Dear Jane, you are standing there with a piping hot cup of tea. My hands are decidedly empty."

"You prat," she laughed and fetched his tea.

Loki swallowed. He thought that he had good news, all things considered. But it was impossible to tell, really, in the face of such horror. She brought him some tea and sat across from him. He sipped. "Very nice," he said.

Jane watched him expectantly. "Well?"

"Well…I heard what Mr. Philips, George, had to say on the matter."

"And what was that?"

Loki sat the cup down and looked at Jane. "He suggested that there was a market for human organs, and that the need began some eighteen months ago."

She let out a small breath. "Eighteen months…?"

"Yes, but what if he only was contacted more recently? What if our local miscreant only moved into Whitechapel this summer, and heard about this much the way Mary Kelly did? What if he contacted the scientist only recently and told him he could procure what he required?"

"Then this scientist is perfectly awful!" Jane exclaimed. "For surely he knows that it cannot be mere happenstance that the murders coincide with an inquiry about the organs! The American knows what is going on!"

"Now Jane, don't work yourself up. This is only a theory, but possibly not an insane one if other reputable minds thought it viable."

"Oh Loki…what do we do?"

"I imagine we need to discover the name of the scientist in question. Try to ascertain if he has been contacted."

Jane nodded. This was going to be difficult. "Did Dr. Philips know his name?"

"No. But I think I might know how we can discover it."

"How?" she breathed.

"Thor has connections at The Lancet."

"The medical journal?"

"That's right."

"Oh," she sat back, unsure how to proceed. "Well…what shall we do in the meantime?"

Loki rubbed his face. "I think that we might need to take some time until we discover just what our American was after. He might have only required…" he trailed, suddenly uncomfortable.

"A uterus?" Jane supplied with a grin.

He nodded, returning her smile. "Just so. I'll write to Thor. We should have a response by the weekend."

"Well then, that's settled," Jane stood, and clapped her hands. "Shall we?" she gathered the cups and brought them to the back.

Loki put the chairs away and stood in the middle of the shop, hands in pockets. "Jane, what do you say we have some dinner at the tavern in town?"

"In town?" she walked in. "But father…maybe tomorrow, Loki," town, to east enders, meant money. Something precious few had.

He nodded. "All set?"

"You could stop in for some tea and cakes…Darcy made them today."

They left the shop and Jane caught up to walk alongside Loki. "How could I resist?" he smiled. "Fandral will be in a state seeing me tomorrow. I had told him it possible I wouldn't be in most of the week."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't know if travel would be necessary."

"What are you keeping to yourself?" she accused, looking at him.

"Nothing. I simply didn't know what to expect at the inquest today."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that no one knows what to expect anymore."

Loki nodded, only half watching the peddlers and the beggars in the gutter. He didn't know what to expect, either. Though his disquiet was of a different flavor. "No…I don't suppose they do."

They reached Jane's house and went inside.

"Well well. If it isn't our local detectives…" cried Dr Foster from his station.

She went directly to the kitchen and began to reheat the night's stew, made some tea, and put the cakes out.

Jane felt her heart beating persistently in her chest. She couldn't account for her unease save the general feeling of anxiety in the area about the murders.

"Dr Foster is asking for his soother, Jane," Loki said, entering the kitchen.

"Oh!" she turned abruptly around to face Loki. "Of course," and she fiddled with the tonic she would mix for him. "Here you are," she smiled.

…and as she handed him the cup, her fingers slid along his hand tangentially. Her breath stopped for a split second…

He looked at her crookedly for a moment, then nodded and took the cup from her, smiling.

Jane was confused about her reaction…she shook her head and turned back to the dinner.

"Your father was always a reputable man, Loki. I don't understand the discord."

"Well…it's complicated," replied Loki.

"It always is," said Dr Foster, and he rose and readied himself for bed.

Jane was playing with her cake, not really paying attention…too preoccupied with her reaction from earlier.

"Well, Jane. Your conversation is enthralling, but I really must be on my way," he stood with a chuckle.

"Oh…I am sorry, Loki," she stood as well. "I suppose I have been out of sorts lately."

"Understandable."

Jane smiled. "Well…will you write to your brother this evening?"

"I will," he put his overcoat on, his cap, and began to walk to the door. "Good evening, Jane," he turned to smile at her as his hand went on the doorknob.

And Jane was right there. "Loki…are you frightened?"

His hand fell. "I…am. Of course I am."

"Why is this happening?" she swallowed.

"I cannot say. But know this, Jane. I will do everything I can to ensure your safety."

"And I yours," she smiled.

"You think that I am in need of protection?" he chided.

"I cannot say," and an innocent look befell her countenance. "But everyone wants to know that they are cared for enough to elicit a protective instinct in another. That you are precious to someone," her gaze fell, and she took his hand. "I promise that I'll protect you if it's in my power to do so," and she kissed his cheek, dropped his hand, and pulled away, smiling. "Good night, Loki," she reached and opened the door for him.

And without a word, he left and made his way into the black night of London.

Nothing bad would happen that night.