"Yes, immediately! I'm going to get one right now!" Blood said, trying to

disengage himself, only who but Hyphen-Smythe himself should come walking in

at

that very moment, blocking his escape and trailing a small mob behind him.

"Ah, Blood! Just the man I'm looking for!" said Hyphen-Smythe, his square

chin

lifting, his blue eyes glinting, every hair lying perfectly in place. He was

a

public-relations dream, handsome, clean-cut, immaculately groomed and

impeccably

dressed, right down to his old school tie. Everything about him, from his

stiff

upper lip to his shoot-the-cuffs manner, implied take-charge authority and

competence. The fact that it would take another task force just to make any

kind

of order out of the mountains of paperwork he was generating was entirely

incidental. Hyphen-Smythe was going places.

Blood sighed with resignation. "Yes, what is it, Hyph-er, Harper-Smythe?"

"Some witnesses I've brought up for interrogation," Hyphen-Smythe said. "Sent

over from Mayfair... arrested . ..some sort of row" in a pub...."

At that moment the reporters descended upon them.

"Chief Inspector—"

"Any progress on the Ripper case, Chief Inspector?"

"We just heard there's been another victim, is that true?''

"Was this one the same as all the others?"

"We heard you've just come from the crime scene—"

''Who was the latest victim, Chief Inspector?"

"My brother, Andrew," Blood said.

That silenced even the press.

"Good Lord," said Hyphen-Smythe softly.

"For your information, gentlemen, the victim's full name was Andrew Lloyd

Blood.

He was a twenty-six-year-old stockbroker, son of the eminent merchant banker,

Lord Llewellyn Royce Blood. The body was severely mutilated. The direct cause

of

death was not immediately apparent. An autopsy is pending. At this point we

have

no evidence—I repeat, no evidence—that this latest murder was the work of the

Ripper. The modus operand! does not quite appear to match. And that's all the

comment I have at this time. You will excuse me...."

He pushed his way past them to his office, passing Danny Shavers on the way.

"I'm so dreadfully sorry, sir," said Shavers, a stricken expression on his

face.