Chapter ThirteenAs the old saying goes there is never a policeman around when you want one. Supposedly Abberline had left men stationed at both entrances to the house, with another down at the front gate, but these men were nowhere to be seen.
Leaving the house and passing through the unlocked, unmanned front gate, I had to walk a number of streets before I found a cabby to take me to Scotland Yard.
As the hansom cab bustled along the cobbled streets into the city, I sat and watched ghostly, skeletal trees with naked branches claw at the thickening fog pass by. Above these the brooding night sky transformed into rows of houses with dark windows resembling dead eyes. As London soon grew out of the dark and the city’s taller buildings enclosed the road, I turned over what few facts we had
