Andrew 'Bing' Richardson

4.30pm 8th September 1888

21B Breams Blvd. - off Chancery Lane.

he end of another Saturday, for the weekend detective, or private eye as you like to style yourself. Not much happened today, you just followed a suspicious husband around Haymarket chatting to the fallen women. He'd gone into Kate Hamilton's Night House. A quick glimpse inside is all you need to wrap the case up, enough evidence for Mrs. McCulroney to do what she likes. What a sordid job, it's lucky it's only a hobby really, the F.O. job pays the bills.

But you should be getting the big cases, the murders no one else can solve. What do you get, lost cats ! Ah the headlines, "Fearless Detective Recovers Rogue Kitty !" It's all that Holmes fault, he gets a few lucky breaks and bingo nobody comes to Bing anymore, unless it's for the dirty cases. He even had the effrontery to steal your deerstalker hat and curly pipe. Perhaps you could sue him ?

Bored, nothing to do, paper full of cases you can never hope to get on. Bored ! Ah a customer, switch to detective mode, what do you deduce from her.

5'4" in stocking feet, 7st 6lbs, about 40 years old, unmarried, works as a draper, comes from south London - Chigwell probably ! The choker maybe - a decent case at last. No she's worried, but she still thinks they're alive or she wouldn't have come to me.

"Good afternoon Miss Dower, how can I be of service," you say in your most dignified manner, looking down your nose at her to watch her surprise.

"How ... how did you know my name Sir ?"

"Elementary my dear lady. Please sit down and tell me your woe."

"Well I'm a draper from Chigwell and I live with my brother George and his son Eric, they work in their clock shop downstairs. Well George is an inventor really, clockwork things, but he was always a bit of a one for the ladies and the demon drink. Well I think he got into bad company, people kept coming around late at night to the shop and he wouldn't let Eric or I see them. Well I think he night have fallen out with them because he's gone missing now. On the 31st August.

"Then Eric goes down to George's private room and comes out looking very shocked and he runs off and I haven't seen hide or hair of either of them for seven whole days.

"O Mr. Holmes, sorry Mr. Richardson what am I to do ?" She gets to tale out and bursts into tears.

An interesting case.

"Give me descriptions of the two missing men and I'll start to make inquiries."

"But what shall I do about the 'orrible dwarf ?"

"Horrible dwarf ?"

"The one that's been hanging around outside the shop since they went. A nasty, sneaky, ugly chap. I don't trust him one inch."

Even better, mysterious villains, strange meetings at the dead of night, a room nobody is allowed in, one for the ladies. Better and better.

"I'll take it."

You take the women's address and show her out with much consideration and shoulder rubbing, your eyes sparkling in glee.

You fill your pipe, light it, and start to think.