'Camberley Asylum'

Late morning - Tue 11th Sept 1888.

grim granite exterior, barred windows and gargoyles, it rears itself over Camberley. Faint sounds of maniacal laughing reaches Bing. A shiver of apprehension runs up his spine. The laughter gets louder as Bing's knock is answered. A leering hunchback greets him.

"Wot ?"

"I'm here to see one of the patients !"

"Oo ?"

"A Miss Victoria Smith."

"Smif ?"

"That's correct."

"This way." The hunchback shuffles out of the way, as Bing steps in. The door slams shut and the bolts are shot. The warden limp up the bleak corridor and stops outside a study door, as a passing female matron glares suspiciously at Bing. The cripple knocks on the door, a noise is heard and Bing is ushered into the room.

"Can I help you ?" A young man in a white coat, is sitting behind a large oak desk littered with papers.

"I would like to see a patient of yours. A Miss Victoria Smith."

"And what is your interest in Miss Smith ?"

"I'm with the Foreign Office. It concerns a case I'm working on."

"Well your not the only one to be interested in Miss Smith. Quite a popular young lady. I'll give you half an hour. Narbondo, will show you the way." The doctor rang a little bell and the hunchback entered.

"Show Mr err. Sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Richardson."

"Show Mr Richardson Vicky. Half an hour, strictly it'll interfere with her treatment. I can't let you see her any longer. Goodbye."

Vicky Smith was in a ward with eight other women. Chained to her wooden truckle bed, staring into space. Tears running down her face.

"Hello Vicky. I'm looking for George Dower. Do you know where I can find him ?"

"thGeorge," she drool runs down her chin.

"Yes, that's right."

"thbadmen arfter 'im !"

"Yes I'm trying to save him. Do you know who they are ?"

"ssfunny handshakes," she starts to laugh, rocking back and forth. One of the other women starts to shriek. Soon the whole ward is bedlam of noise, Narbondo comes in and starts to whip the women.

Vicky starts to shout "George" over and over again. Bing tries to calm her.

"thThere arfter him. ssSave him, please. thThen he cam take me away and we'll be happy agin."

"You were happy before."

"bbBefore we went to Kent," she breaks down into tears, and Bing feels a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Time t'go," says Narbondo. The vicious look in his eyes dissuades Bing from arguing, anyway it's unlikely he'll be able to get anything out of the girl.

Returning to town Bing decides to go and see Professor Maxwell and see how he's got on with the helmet. Bing's shown into Maxwell's office immediately. Maxwell and an other man; who Bing presumes to be Cheval, are both very bedraggled and Cheval has a bandage around his head, both bear bruises.

"My dear Bing, good of you to come. Cheval and I have been having a lot of fun. that helmet you gave us, we tried it on a chimpanzee. Tied the chimp down and switched the device on. It broke free of the restraints and tried to kill the both of us. We only managed to escape out of the window when it was distracted by a skeleton I have in my laboratory. Anyway we had to get a rifle a shoot the brute, it had already killed and eaten the curators alsatian. I've discussed it with Cheval here, and we both think the device, uses electrical impulses and the subsonic thuds of the hydraulic rams to effect brain waves. We didn't know what we were doing, so we made the chimp into a blood crazed beast. Conversely, however we could have changed a maniac into a placid lamb. Of course it might have more uses. Mind if we hang onto it for a while longer ? Good. Would you like some tea ?"

"Yes please." Bing and the two scientists discussed the device over tea, but Bing learns nothing new. Finally he takes his leave and crosses the city to Whitechapel.

Kate Eddowes apartment is deserted and a neighbour reports her having gone away with a gentleman. They only peculiar event, was a man Bing met going upto the room. He was coming down, muttering to himself, long nose, greasy straggling hair and stinking. An obvious maniac thought Bing, a case for the helmet I think. After a fruitless quest Bing starts to search out the opium dens which abound in the area. Searching through the hazy, low ceiling buildings, soon gave Bing a headache. Questioning reluctant Orientals annoyed him and the poppy smoke got in his eyes. So much so that he almost missed him. In a back corner of one seedy, ramshackle establishment lay Dower. Filthy, hair matted, a clay pipe of opium lay at his feet. A picture of depravity, in a drug educed stupor.