I had lived close to Whitechapel for practically my entire life and had always made sure that I minimized my interaction with the more criminal side of the city. Mainly because on the few occasion where I had been forced to interact with these villains, I found myself sprawled out on the filthy cobblestones with nearly everything on my person being whisked away in the blink of an eye. This time my situation was no different, except I was joined by my rotund - and rather docile - colleague. Unfortunate.
We warily strode down the disease-ridden streets that were full of shady men who dealt who knows what in the darkness of the alleyways. Luckily nobody accosted us to take our money and we made it to our destination safely. It appeared to be another vermin-ridden alleyways but on closer inspection the colour on the worn bricks was less faded than that of the surrounding alleyways. I shall spare you of the rather graphic and strange business performed by the "employees", but one thing I will tell you is a description of the owner of such a depraved building. He was nearly a head shorter than I and had a very peculiar stench. This stench permeated throughout the room as the owner greeted us and explained how his quote "business was like any other" and asking if we would like to "experience the goods". We naturally declined his offer, informing him that we were the men charged with prosecuting him and his business. At this, the man flew into a rage and began spewing rather vulgar statements at us. Frederick's face turned white with fright and I am quite convinced he nearly wet himself and would have if I had not hurried him out the door. It was evening by the time we returned to our office and we thought it best if we closed up for the day. As we organized our materials, we began to discuss the information (if you could even call it that) gleaned from the owner and of the state of the brothel itself.
"Well Ephraim, I do believe that this case is practically open and shut. I mean, the rather luxurious interior of the brothel speaks for itself." Frederick said, closing our inkwells.
"Quite, Frederick, quite. I feel that this case will be one of our easiest yet, we just have to wait until we actually go to court to witness the fruits of our labor." I replied in agreement, my lips turning into a small grin.
"But what about the madman that plagues our streets? Do you think that there will come a time where he is caught? And if so, do you think we would be charged with prosecuting?"
This line of inquiry startled me. I thought for a few moments before I responded.
"Frederick, in my opinion a man of that caliber should not be caught, nor should we be forced to handle the prosecution of the heinous crimes as seen in the papers."
Now it was Frederick's turn to be surprised. "I had always believed you to be one of endless ambition, always advancing your career by picking rather high profile cases."
"Simply put my friend, I do not wish to be forced into interaction with a perceived madman, even with the promise of advancement. I try to have standards when it comes to our work."
At this Frederick sighed and said good night. " I shall see you tomorrow. Be sure to sleep well Ephraim, you always seem a little drained."
"Good night Frederick. And I'll see what I can do about my appearance." I said, lightening the mood.
I went home to a cold floor and burnt out fireplace. If you could not tell, I am very much a hermit. I have never really had a family, my mother died when I was very young and I have no memory of her. My father, however, I have vivid memory of. Him and his bottle and his hands. After my dinner, I prepared for the few hours that I would actually spend resting. I cleaned up and sat down on my favorite armchair to relax. Noticing the medical manual, I went over and picked it up. After I felt I had sufficiently settled back into my chair, I opened the manual the the page I had left off on. The hand-drawn illustration of a human heart rose up to me, daring me to study every detail with m undivided attention. I chose to humor it.