1888

I stormed through the doors of the police station, my hair still partially wet from my bath not even a half-hour ago. I'd been rudely interrupted from my soak by a bellboy banging on the front door to my comfortably-sized apartment, bearing news that I had been summoned into work.

I crossed the room, full of fellow officers working at their desks. Over to one side, three officers were watching over a group of sad-looking kids, who appeared to have been taken from the streets. It hit a heart string to see the children looking so dank and depressed. Their mothers had probably been forced to leave them and their fathers had left wordlessly. It was the sort of thing I often saw in this district, with the prostitutes working the streets most nights.

I tore my gaze away from a small child, holding on to a tiny little baby wrapped in nothing but a ragged blanket.

I picked up my pace and finally arrived at the door to the Captain's office.

Sighing heavily, I turned the handle and strode through the door.

He was sitting at his desk, bent over some form of notebook.

"You sent for me?" I announced myself.

"Yes. We had a man come in this morning, his wife has been missing since sometime last night." he stated. I sighed inwardly; women often up-and-left around here. They often returned within a week or so.

"Women go missing all the time, Sir." I stated.

"I know this, Mr Allman." he replied coolly. "But this woman was far from what the usual runaways are. She had two sons, both younger than five. Her husband was due back the next morning after a travel with his profession. She was a part of a respected family."

He paused. I took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs opposite his desk.

"Her husband, Edward, says she came to Whitechapel not very long ago. Her father passed away and she decided it was time to leave her family. Three years ago, she met a man, but they parted when she met Edward."

I rolled my eyes. I knew it wasn't in any way respectful, but I knew the Captain well. He was a friend of mine from my childhood. We had parted for a large portion of our teenage years, but had been reunited when I joined the police.

"Sorry, but I'm not following this." I stated.

"Edward believes this man may have kidnapped his wife." he replied. "So, I've called you in, because I know you're good at this sort of thing."

"You also know why, but lets skip that." I laughed lightly. Truth is, I could sort of see things. Little flashes of previous events. I sometimes had dreams of future occurrences. Some thought I was mad and should be admitted to the asylum. But the Captain knew I wasn't insane. It was something to do with the absinthe and opium.

"Grab your coat and things." he said. "We've got an appointment with the husband in a short while."

I nodded in reply and rose from my seat.

"Oh, and Quinn?" the Captain rose as I did. "It's your turn to shout the drinks." I laughed.

"As always, Jeph. As always."

We left the station ten minutes later at the very most. I'd picked up my badge, gun and holster. I didn't see the point in taking much else, or even changing into patrol uniform. Sometimes I wondered why they ever bothered putting the uniform in my cubicle, I rarely ever went on street patrols.

"We'll walk, their home is only around the corner." Jeph advised.

He was honest, if you consider four blocks away around the corner.

We arrived at the house. I was one of the more nice-looking buildings in Whitechapel. Pansies and daisies were growing in pots on the windowsill, the curtains were open behind them and the front yard was quite tidy. The Williamsons seemed to take pride in what they had.

We walked up the front path, to the door. Jeph knocked sharply, and I heard movement behind the door.

A man, probably my age, answered the door. He was fairly skinny, and somewhat tall. His hair was a somewhat unique shade of red-orange, and his green eyes looked tired and red. Behind him, a small boy, four years old at the most, poked his head out from behind his father's left leg.

"Oh, it's you, officer." the man sighed.

"Mr Williamson-" Jeph began.

"Edward, please." He stepped back and opened the door further, inviting us inside his home.

"Edward." Jepha corrected himself. "We'd like to have a talk to you, if that's alright."

"Of course." He looked down to the small boy, still behind his legs. "Go on, go play with Aunt Emily and Cousin Amelia." The boy smiled up at his father and scurried off upstairs.

"Boys." Edward smiled.

"My apologies, sir." I said, shaking myself out of my little daze. "I'm Quinn Allman, I'm working on finding your wife."

"Edward Williamson." he bowed his head slightly. "If you'll follow me." He lead us into a quite nicely furnished living room. It was clear that the family had sufficient funds to raise their children.

Edward invited us to sit on his cushioned two-seater.

"Rosalie put the boys to bed last night." he said. "Nathaniel said she settled Ben and came downstairs." his voice grew quieter. "She said she'd be waiting for me."

Jepha started scribbling down on his piece of paper.

"Have you any idea who this man is you suspect of kidnapping Rosalie?" I inquired.

"No, not at all." Edward sighed. "I know she had problems after her father's passing, when she came here, to Whitechapel. She once told me she met a man, and they were a couple. But she then met me, and we've been married three years last night."

"Your sons...?"

"They're one and three. Ben is our youngest." he stated.

I nodded. "Did she ever tell you of any places they went, perhaps where they met? Any specific places she goes a lot?"

"If you're thinking my wife ran off with another man-"

"We're not saying that, Mr Williamson." Jeph cut in. "We're simply saying that, if she has been kidnapped, perhaps this man has taken her to a specific place."

Edward sighed. "Before we were married, we used to go down to Bells And Whistles, the pub down the street. One of her old friends is the bartender's sister."

I exchanged looks with Jeph. "Thank you, Edward." Jeph said, bowing his head slightly as we rose.

"If you'd like, I could accompany you to the bar." Edward offered. "My sister Emily and her daughter are here to help with the boys."

"It's fine, Mr Williamson." Jeph said. "We'll keep our eyes out for your wife."

"Thank you, Captain." Edward stated sincerely. "We're most grateful."

"It's our job, sir." I smiled. Edward opened the door for us.

"We'll inform you of anything we find." Jeph advised.

"Thank you again, sir." Edward half-yelled as we walked down their front path.

"Bells And Whistles, eh?" I raised an eyebrow at Jeph. "Not the cleanest place in town."

"I know." Jeph said. We continued our walk, exchanging theories of what happened to Rosalie Williamson.

"It's quite possible that she's dead." Jeph stated bluntly. "It's also just as feasible she's run off with her other man."

"Who know, Jepha. Who knows." I sighed. We arrived at the pub and pushed through the doors. Bells And Whistles was occupied by a range of people, from paupers and prostitutes to average businessmen. Jeph and I wormed our way over to the bar and occupied two barstools.

The bartender arrived in front of us within a few seconds.

"What'll it be?" he asked. He wasn't one of those bartenders who was rude and imposing, and he looked quite clean.

"Two beers, thanks." Jeph requested. The bartender nodded and hurried off to get our drinks. I laughed lightly.

"What if I'd wanted something else?" I smiled.

"You always have a beer, Quinn. I've known you for how long now?"

"I don't know, to be honest." The bartender came back, two glass mugs of beer in his hands. It was then I noticed he had a bandage wrapped across his left palm.

"What happened?" I asked, looking at his hand.

"Some raving drunk broke a glass last night." he sighed. "Had to get out my gun before he left."

I looked sideways at Jeph. He nodded lightly.

"Scary." I said.

"Mm, not really. I've seen worse." he shrugged. "Hell, my sister brings in some terrible ones." he sighed.

"Really now?" Jeph asked, licking his lips after a sip of beer.

"Yep. Joys of having a sister who just won't listen." he said glumly. "Won't even listen to her friends." the door opened and a slim, blonde girl skipped through, giggling like a madwoman. Behind her followed a man, and not the cleanest one in the world either.

"See. I told you she brings in bad ones." the bartender sighed. "I'm Dan, by the way. Dan Whitesides."

I watched the young girl skip through the pub, her man following behind her, as if in a trance. They exited through a back door in the corner of the pub.

"We're actually investigating a disappearance." I said, turning to Dan. "Did your sister ever know a Rosalie Williamson?"

"I recognize the name from somewhere." Dan reminisced. "Didn't she marry that Edward man?"

"Yes." Jeph replied. "Rosalie hasn't been seen since last night by her boys. She was waiting for Edward to arrive back from a travel with work."

"I'd say you could talk to Simone, but I don't think you'd like to go out the back alley right now." Dan said.

"Just wondering, what direction did your drunk raving lunatic go?" I asked.

"Out the doors and down towards the church way." Dan said. "Must've been looking for a hitch, that's where lots of Sim's friends hang out before dusk. Idiot probably didn't even know his name."