'From Russia With Love ?'

Evening - Mon. 10th Sept 1888.

hitechapel again, the same dark litter strewn streets. Surly men congregate in the shadows, between the intermittent gas lamps. Bing approaches a buxom prostitute.

"Ullo deary, fancy a shag ?"

"mm I'm looking for Kate Eddowes. I believe she lives in this neighbourhood."

"Ooh ducks, one of 'em are yer ? Well never you fear, your secret's safe with me. You just go up that street into Mitre Square and I fink it's number 7. Tra love."

Bing flicks the women a couple of shillings and marches off in the direction the whore indicated.

A carriage is drawn up inside the square and a coachman watches suspiciously as Bing cross and climbs the stairs to number 7. Voices can be heard inside, but not clearly enough to understand them. The word 'Belgium' was made out though. Bing knocks and soon the door is opened by a middle aged tart ruined by the pox and years on the game.

"I'm busy luv. Cum back later err," and she attempts to shut the door. Bing inserts his foot.

"I'd like to talk to you about George Dower, I believe you know him."

"Nuver one eh ? Well you bet'er cum inside yer lordship." She ushers Bing inside and points at a young man, perched on a leaking easy chair. "That's George something or ov'er. Reckons I'm in danger and wants to take me away to safety."

"Good evening sir. Pleased to see you're here on such a noble errand."

"Yes, noble."

"Perhaps I can ask what interest you have in Miss Eddowes ?"

"In danger, my friend suggested to take her away. To protect."

"Well wot d'ya want ta naw ?"

"Do you know the whereabouts of George Dower or his son Eric ?"

"Well like I told George's friend. 'ere am I gonna get paid for this ? Valuable time yer wasting !" Bing nods his assent. "Well Like I wos saying, Vicky Smith would probably know his whereabouts, but she's as mad as a coot in Camberley Asylum. We put 'er there after she went away to Kent wiv George one weekend. Came back a loony. Babbling about a load of nonsense. Then this ripper starts trying ta bump us off. But if yer looking for George my bet would be to try the opium dens hereabouts, he got inter that at the end."

"Thank you madam, here's something for your trouble."

Mm, too late to start going round the opium dens tonight, so I'll nip up to Chigwell to get some of the gear, thought Bing as he strolled out of Mitre Square. Bing was lucky enough to find a hansom and soon he was off to north London, but what was that, gunfire in the distance. Probably the ENWP again. Thugs.

The cab eventually arrived outside the Dowers and as Bing stepped down a police constable approached him.

"Can I help you sir ?" His suspicion obvious.

"Yes I'm here on Miss Camellia Dower's behalf to collect some of her things. Mr Brownlow said it was alright."

"Well that's alright then sir."

Bing entered the house, the blood stains were still in the passageway, and he climbed up to the attic. But what was this, the boxes were open. Something was missing, the head of the automata and a helmet device. Somebody had stolen them. At least two people had been up here, the marks could be seen in the dust. Quickly Bing placed two of the devices into his bag and hurried downstairs. In the parlour he examined the windows and immediately discovered where they had come in. Two people, one of them a large woman and the other a medium sized man. They came and left through the window, out of sight of the police outside. Bing thought he'd better get out as well. So grabbing a selection of handkerchiefs and gloves he left. Enough to keep him occupied for the rest of the night.