"There's a gentleman waiting to see you in your office, Lestrade."

Inspector Adams did not so much as pause as he passed the inspector in the hall, leaving Lestrade no other option than to call a hasty "Thank you," over his own shoulder at the older inspector's retreating back and hope that Adams heard him.

The gentleman in question seemed to be just that-a gentleman. His clothes, his posture, the way he reclined in the chair in front of Lestrade's desk and took in the room as if he owned it-everything about him suggested that the man came from money.

He was also fairly young. Lestrade figured the man was in his early twenties, certainly no older than twenty-five at the most. He had blonde hair and mustache, blue eyes, and a semi-muscular build. He was also only a few inches taller than Lestrade, the inspector noted as the man noticed him and rose to his feet.

"Inspector Lestrade?" the young man asked. When Lestrade nodded, he continued unprompted. "I just heard the news last night, Inspector, and was told you were investigating the case-I can't believe it, Inspector!" He stepped closer to Lestrade, close enough to reveal dark circles under red-rimmed eyes, as if the man had not only not slept the night before, but had been kept awake by some great personal tragedy. "My Alice-who could have done such a thing?"

"Alice Gardner?" Lestrade asked, stepping farther inside his office and guiding the young man back to his chair." The other man nodded.

"The landlady said she was murdered," he said, sitting back down. "Please, she had to be lying-or maybe it was some sort of joke?"

"I'm afraid not." Lestrade found his own seat behind his desk. "Mister-?"

"Marcus. My name is Marcus." The young man replied. He looked away for a moment, distraught. "She's dead, then."

"Yes, sir." Lestrade wondered if this conversation ever got easier. "How did you know the deceased, Mister...Mr. Marcus?"

"Please, just Marcus," the man corrected. "We were seeing each other-well, we were in love, to tell you the truth, Inspector. I wanted to marry her. I was trying to talk Mother around-the thought of me marrying below my station was absolutely abhorrent to her, but I had almost gotten her to agree to meeting Alice-I was sure if Mother just had a chance to meet her she would see what a wonderful woman she is-sorry, was."

"And Alice felt the same way?" Lestrade asked. "In love? Wanting to marry?"

Marcus turned to stared at him. "You think I did this? I loved her!"

"I have to ask. Witnesses reported overhearing a quarrel between the two the night she died."

"Of course." Marcus took a deep breath, collecting himself in the process. "Of course. Yes, she loved me too. And she wanted to get married. She was nervous about meeting Mother, but wanted to try-her own parents disowned her when she was younger. They didn't approve of the man she was seeing at the time. She didn't want me to have to go through the same thing."

"I see," Lestrade nodded, thinking. "Were you aware that she had children out of wedlock-a boy and a girl?"

"I did. I never got to meet them, but I was aware that she had them. To be honest, Inspector, I didn't care. I loved Alice. If marrying her meant taking in her children as well, I was willing to do so. She was worth it."

Lestrade nodded and made a few notes in his notebook. "You understand I have to ask where you were the night she died?"

"Of course." The young man shuddered. "I was having dinner with Mother and her friends. It's a regular occurrence. I'll admit that I was trying to charm her, hoping that after she would be in a more reasonable state of mind to discuss Alice."

"And was she?"

"No. It turned into quite the disagreement, I fear. Once Mother gets started she can go on for hours. I believe it was close to one in the morning before we parted-the servants can attest to that. They can also verify that I retired to my room immediately after, and did not come back out until the next morning."

"I'll need to speak with them to make sure," Lestrade said, half expecting some sort of protest.

"Feel free to stop by this afternoon. I'll let them know to expect you." Marcus sighed. "I can't believe she's gone."

"Do you know anyone who might have a grudge against Miss Gardener? A neighbor, perhaps? Maybe another-visitor?"

Marcus laughed outright, and Lestrade felt his cheeks warm slightly. "She stopped seeing anyone else months ago. I told her I loved her, and perhaps it was foolish of me, but I thought she might feel the same way..." He shrugged. "As it turned out, she did. Most of her other visitors, as you called them, were happy for her. Alice was that kind of girl. She made friends every where she went. People adored her."

Lestrade considered this. "And none of her visitors were jealous, either of you, or of her?"

Marcus shook his head, then paused. "None of her visitors, no. But there was a young man-I think he was actually the landlady's son. I caught him watching her from the hall a few times. He knew I caught him too-he'd stand there and scowl at me for a minute before retreating into the kitchen. Alice said he was nice to her when she first moved in, but once she started seeing people he stopped talking to her."

Lestrade made a note to talk to the landlady again.

"Anything else you can tell me? Anything that might help us find the person responsible?"

Marcus shook his head. "Nothing, Inspector, but I will certainly let you know if I think of anything else." He paused for a moment before asking, "The children-what happened to them? Are they all right?"

"They're safe." Lestrade assured the man. "We're currently trying to find family willing to take them in, but in the meantime, they are being cared for."

Marcus nodded. "I would offer to take them, but Mother wouldn't stand for it. If we had gotten married, it would be one thing. Now-Well, let me just say I hope you find someone. Alice's parents, perhaps-surely they wouldn't punish the children for the perceived sins of their mother." Lestrade did not explain that they had already tried-and failed-to reason with the parents. "I would appreciate you keeping me informed, Inspector. About the children-and in your search for dear Alice's murderer."

"I'll share what I can." It was an empty promise, but it seemed to reassure the man. Marcus stood, offered Lestrade his hand as if they weren't from two completely different worlds, and thanked him for his time before excusing himself.

It was not a situation Lestrade often found himself in.

Inspector Smith found him not too much later, still in his office. "Before I forget," he said, offering Lestrade his pocket-watch. "I don't suppose you've had any luck finding anyone to take the children." Lestrade shook his head as he reclaimed his watch.

I found the woman's gentleman-caller," he admitted. "I may have found another lead when it comes to her murderer, but not as far as the children. He insisted he couldn't take him because his mother wouldn't approve before I could even ask."

Smith shrugged. "I just thought I'd check in. The Missus isn't in any hurry to see them gone, and your job is to find her murderer, not run around London looking for a good home for a couple of orphans."

"I'm aware," Lestrade replied, in a tone that suggested he felt he was every bit as responsible for finding the children a home as he was for finding their mother's murderer.

Smith shook his head. Lestrade was going to have to learn, sooner or later, that there was only so much one man could do.

It didn't take Lestrade long to find the house. Marcus had given his address before he left that morning, and Lestrade had recognized the area-the man lived in a fairly wealthy area of London.

He had also been true to his word in letting the servants know to expect him. He was welcomed in almost immediately and taken to the kitchen where more than one servant was able to verify the man's account of the events that night.

An older woman entered the kitchen just as he was getting ready to leave and introduced herself as Marcus's mother.

"I understand the girl he wanted me to meet was murdered," the woman said. Her expression remained politely disinterested; there was no way to tell what she actually thought about the matter. "I am sorry to hear that. I did not approve of the match, but the girl deserved better, and her death has certainly left my poor son bereft." She shook her head. "It was such a shame-I was just thinking yesterday that surely there would be no harm in agreeing to meet her after all. After all, it seemed to mean so much to my poor Marcus."

Lestrade nodded along, then asked, "He said you had a disagreement on the matter?"

"Yes," the woman confirmed. "He wanted me to meet her, and at the time I told him there was little point in my doing so as it would not change my mind. He grew frustrated, insisted that I wasn't even giving her a chance. I'm afraid it devolved into quite the shouting match. We were up until roughly one in the morning arguing. He went straight to bed after that-he was quite upset."

Lestrade left the house with a confirmed alibi, but nothing more. According to the household, Marcus had not killed the woman he claimed to love.

Lestrade's next stop was Ratcliffe Street itself, and he nearly got his pockets picked for his trouble in the process. He could hardly begrudge the urchins that kept swarming around him-they were on the whole thin, ragged, and clearly half-starved. He caught little fingers before they could make their way to his wallet, offered a few stern looks, and moved on.

He found Miss Gardener's former landlady in the kitchen, just as he had the last time they spoke. She eyed him sharply as he entered, but did not pause in slicing vegetables.

"Inspector," she greeted him as if he were an unwelcome guest she couldn't quite get rid of. "Any luck finding the killer?"

Lestrade shook his head. "We managed to track down her-guest-but he has an alibi for the night she was murdered." He eyed the knife the woman currently held as he continued, "The man seems to think your son might have seen something?"

"My son?" The woman's eyebrows lifted, and there was a warning in her voice as she asked, "Now why would he think my son would know anything? That woman never so much as gave him the time of day."

"Apparently Miss Gardener mentioned that your son was nice to her when she first moved in." Lestrade offered.

The woman scowled. "We may not have money, Inspector Lestrade, but I raised my son the best I could. I taught him manners, and I taught him to be gentle. If he felt sorry for the girl when she first moved here, he may have had a kind word for her now and again. That doesn't mean he regularly associated with her, and it doesn't make him a suspect."

"Of course not." Lestrade felt it prudent to agree as the woman gestured with the knife in her hands. "But if there's a chance he saw something, I need to speak with him."

"He's not here," the woman sniffed, and went back to chopping vegetables. "He works hard, my boy does. Honest work, too, he does. He won't be back until late this evening."

"What time?" Lestrade asked.

"He usually gets in around eight o'clock," she offered reluctantly. "Sometimes he stops for a drink with the boys, then it's usually closer to nine." She scowled down at her chopping board, knife still busy. "I assume you'll be back-I'll make sure he waits up for you."

Constable Walker was standing on the corner as Lestrade stepped out into the street. The Inspector turned and went to meet him, wondering if it were simple coincidence that had brought the man here, or if he had come looking for the Inspector.

"One of the boys mentioned you were back," the constable greeted him. "Said his friends were making plans-they see you as a challenge, given that no one's managed to pick your pocket yet in spite of the fact that you stick out like a sore thumb around here."

"Is that a warning?" Lestrade asked, eyebrow quirking upwards. Walker chuckled.

"Something like," he admitted. "Seems a shame to leave you to fend for yourself, especially since Mullins insists you were shelling out your own money to feed a couple of freshly orphaned children." Lestrade shrugged, resisting the urge to look away. "He also seemed to think you were making it your personal mission to find a home for them."

"Couldn't just leave them," Lestrade muttered. Walker shook his head, but did not disagree.

"Any luck?" he asked.

"One of the other Inspectors and his wife are looking after them for now," Lestrade admitted. "We found Miss Gardener's parents, but they wouldn't take them."

"No surprise there," Walker said. "And the case itself? Any leads?"

"Her gentleman caller has an alibi," Lestrade ventured. Turning to study the man, he asked, "He said there was some tension between the Miss Gardener and the landlady's son. Know anything about him?"

"Who, Danny?" Walker asked, frowning as he thought. "Works down at the docks. Hangs out with some rough characters. He's the sulky, surly sort. Not particularly friendly. Stays out of trouble, though."

"His mother said he'd be home around eight. That I could speak with him then."

"These streets aren't exactly safe after dark," Walker cautioned. "Not even for an Inspector, and especially not for one so smartly dressed."

Lestrade shrugged.