Chapter 3: Orphans
For some reason it was never simple in Whitechapel. A murder was never a murder but a gruesome one. A homicide was never just a homicide but a symbolic act. And a dead body was usually only the beginning.
Such were Simon Stark’s thoughts as he walked from group to group, skin itching from the stink inside the homeless shelter. A shirt change wouldn’t cut it. A shower was what he wanted. The team was out interviewing homeless people—Did they know a kid with a branding? Had they heard of anyone going missing?—and had split up for efficiency. Simon was with Ralph, because he preferred his company. Despite the fact that they had only met two days ago, Simon was already breathing a little more easily around Ralph Golding. There was something about the man that seemed to mak
