We first meet Law.

His right temple aching from exhaustion and working in too dim of light, Dr. Trafalgar Law reviewed the notes in his journal one more time. He could feel the metallic ache building just behind his eye and knew he needed to get to sleep soon or the pain would blossom like a hothouse flower.

The truth be told, Law knew it wasn't just the poor light and the long hours that was giving him the headache. It was the news he had to deliver next. It was the set of facts that was now indisputable. And if he couldn't get Vergo to listen this time, he didn't have any good options left.

Clara Morris, twenty-one years of age, had been stabbed a total of seven times. Her entire uterus had been removed and taken from the scene.

Other organs had also been removed but left arranged on her body, including her bladder, lower intestines, and stomach. Her organs were now sitting in separate covered bowls in the cold cellar, each an impersonal, but indisputable testament to the hard life Clara had lived.

Law took care to carefully measure and weigh them, but in his head he couldn't help but notice how they had reminded him of various foods.

Her intestines felt like jellied eels, made gelatinous from her alcoholism. Her liver, on the other hand, was as tough as any hard tack shipped out to sea. And her uterus, it felt ready to dissolve in Law's hands, like so much soft cheese.

He had to wonder what kind of poisons and home remedies Clara had taken as abortifacients do this kind of damage in her short life.

In opposition to the sorry state of Clara's organs, the cuts ending her life were perfect. They looked practiced, done by someone with a familiarity with both anatomy and a knife.

And not just a doctor or a student. A butcher or competent hunter could easily figure it out with a little help from a medical text. The range of possible suspects was wide.

There had been another victim, three weeks ago. Dogs had set upon her though, before her discovery. Law had tried to tell Vergo about her missing organs. He warned him of the directed nature of the killing wounds, that it showed a dangerous propensity towards sexual violence. Vergo told Law he was reading too much into it.

"Just a jealous boyfriend, mad on drink. Don't go causing a panic over a no name tart. You can't say for sure what the dogs did and what happened."

The first victim had also been a prostitute as well.

Every instinct was telling Law that White Chapel was about to become even more bloody than it already was. He thought back to the classics Corazon had read to him. One that had always stood out was the fable of Cassandra, cursed to know the future but to have no one believe her.

It was only when Law was older that he realized Cassandra must have also foreseen her own death.

He shook his head and tried to shake off his morbid thoughts. Vergo, for whatever reasons, may be unwilling to listen to him but he could pass on a warning to others to keep an eye out.

And speaking of others, Law heard the familiar footfall of one the constables he was just thinking of.

"Whatcha doing, reading here in the dark? It's late."

Law set down his notes. Police Constable Roronoa leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest. Law could tell Zoro was trying to be flippant but he heard the concern in his voice.

"There's a problem," he told Zoro.

"What kind of problem?" asked Zoro as he walked into Law's work room, shutting the door behind him.

"I think someone is killing prostitutes," Law told him.

"You know as well as I do, someone is always killing prostitutes. It ain't fair, but they're easy marks for them that are angry."

Law let the constable pull on his hands and making him stand up.

"Come on. You look like shit. When did you sleep last?"

Zoro led Law to the skinny cot shoved against the wall.

"Lie down, or do you need a nip first?" Zoro pulled a grey metal flask from out of the inside of his coat.

Law shook his head, denying the offer. After dealing with Clara's organs, the last thing he wanted was alcohol coursing through his system.

"How about you just tell me about your day."

Law started unlacing his boots, but Zoro knelt down and took over.

Grateful, Law leaned back, resting against the damp limestone wall. Zoro didn't start talking until he removed Law's woolen socks and set them over the tops of his boots.

"Interesting one, today."

"Hmmm?"

"Those religious women, the Brides of Paradise, were here again with that preacher."

Law smiled at the mistake, easy enough to make.

There was another group that came by too, calling themselves the Waiting Brides of Christ the Redeemer. They used to sing on the different street corners but soon stopped after getting propositioned, sometimes in jest and sometimes not, by the local men.

"Lie down like I told you doctor, if you want to hear more of the story."

He did so slowly, not out of defiance, but because his muscles ached and he needed to go slowly, feeling the effects of the long week. He turned to his side, using his arm for a pillow and stared at his sometimes lover. "Happy?" Law asked.

"Enough, happy enough." Zoro made himself comfortable on the floor, sitting up by Law's head, taking a drink first from his flask before beginning. "There was almost a riot over the food they've been serving. Some say they're feeding people broxy. I don't know if it's true or not, but I did hear that it made some sick. In their bowels."

Law watched Zoro touch his stomach before continuing. "The little ones, they might get hungry enough to eat it anyway, even if they get warned off it."

"It might not be broxy. It could be almost anything." Law sighed. He didn't want to see another child on his table. It meant either nights of not letting himself sleep or drinking himself into a dark oblivion where dreams drowned and were forgotten.

"I don't think they're coming back any time soon, not with how angry everyone was. Also, one of them ladies got herself robbed and the preacher, there's people saying he used work girls back in the day."

Law pushed himself up to a leaning position. "Who was foolish enough to rob the Daughters of Paradise? Was Vergo there?"

"No, it was Helmeppo. And the girl was more desperate than foolish, I reckon. It was the daughter of that lady with the coffee cart, you know her? The one with black hair?" Zoro took a long slow drink from his flask before continuing. "I found her first."

"You let her go?" Law knew he didn't need to ask, but he made a show of it anyway. The constable had a reputation he didn't know about as being soft for the smaller ones of White Chapel.

"I got the ladies purse back. Wasn't worth the trouble of bringing the girl in." Zoro couldn't even look Law in the face when he lied.

Zoro coughed and then continued. "There was a man, though. He saw me let her go."

"What man? One of Helmeppo's? One of Vergo's?" Law sat up. He reached over and took Zoro by the chin to make the constable face him.

"No," answered Zoro, pulling his chin free. "He was with the women. He was - "

"What?"

"A lord."

Law felt his mouth go dry. "Zoro."

"He wasn't angry. He called me - " Law, even in the low light, could see that Zoro's cheeks were going red. "tenderhearted. Can you believe it? Me?"

Law chose not to answer and instead relaxed, laying back down on his side. "Do you need to go anytime soon?"

"No."

"Then see if you can fit on here and keep me warm," Law ordered, patting the narrow space next to him. "And tell me all about this lord that has you blushing like some maiden."

The constable reached down to his own boots. Law saw they were in need of repair, with holes appearing in both of the soles.

"I'll tell you all about my lord when you tell me about your redhead from the shipyard," Zoro challenged back.

Law laughed, his first real laugh in days, maybe even weeks. "Fine, you win. Now, get up here and make me forget I even asked."

"Let's see," grinned Zoro, putting two hands on the cot and leaning in for a kiss. "If I can make you blush like a maiden."