Within the bowels of Police headquarters, Detective Blaine was going over the case files, for the Hollow Street murders, when the Chief Superintendent Morsey slammed down a copy of the day’s paper. Naturally, the journalists were already on the scent of the latest scandal and the gruesome murders that were plaguing the city. And of course, they made sure to write as much detail into the murders, so as to generate more sales, due to the inquisitive nature of the daily readers. So keen they were to get a fix that showed the vile underbelly of London, it was probably beyond comprehension, that this type of serial killing was actually rare.
“This is simply scandalous. How dare they print this up without so much as getting authorization from me!”
The Detective glanced up from his case files, then at the paper that had been dropped so unceremoniously upon his desk.
“The Times is always known for the insertion of any remarks likely to caution the unwary or to put the unsuspecting on their guard against the dark underbelly of the city. This is just another example of that, and you know as well as I do, that the press have certain freedoms, especially when they can buy off some witnesses, with the reward of a small purse.”
The Chief Superintendent, was absolutely livid, his face was going redder by the second, and you could actually see the tell tale veins that looked set to pop. He drove his chubby finger into the centre of the article’s illustration of the murder victim and continued to pound the desk, to make his point.
“This is undermining the investigation!”
“If I may be so bold, Chief. I already have an expert working on the case with me.” Detective Blaine said, placing his hands under his chin, knowing that the Chief Superintendent would want to know.
“Who?”
“Doctor Johnathon Bianchi…a well learned individual, who has already been going over these cases, including the most recent and unfortunate victim; Lady Sommerfeld.”
“And what do you think this Doctor can do…that half the force can’t, Detective Blaine?”
“He has..unorthodox methods of investigation….lets just leave it at that.” The Detective didn’t want to disclose just what he meant by that, since if he were to say that the Doctor was in fact an Angel, he himself might get carted off to the nearest asylum.
The Chief Inspector grumbled into his mustache, and then ripped back the copy of the Times, marching towards his office, past many nervous police inspectors. Slamming his door, the Detective leans over to make sure he is finally behind his desk, and the Detective jumps to his feet, grabbing his hat and coat, and decides to head to the Bianchi family manor, to see if the Doctor had any more leads on the case.
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