but it seemed reasonable in light of the way that the setup was explained to

her. However, now that she was actually out on the streets of Whitechapel,

she

wasn't all that certain anymore.

It was dark, and a heavy mist had descended on the streets. Visibility was

very

poor. The thought that somewhere out there, at that very moment, fifteen

other

female officers were in exactly the same straits did little to dispel her

gloom

and apprehension.

At first, dressing up in her "hooker rig," as Officers Stuart Canfield and

Bill

Turner called it, seemed like a bit of silly fun. They had been assigned as

her

backup team, and she knew them both quite well, professionally if not

socially.

They had all gone shopping for the clothes together, and Canfield and Turner

had

helped her assemble the outfit. At first they had all pretended to take it

very

seriously, but it hadn't lasted. As each man suggested sexier attire for her

to

try on, it became more and more of a game, and she found herself enjoying

their

reactions.

"I never knew you had such nice legs, Steph!"

"Ooh, be still my heart! Stephie, love, you busy Friday night?"

All delivered in a playful mood, yet with an underlying seriousness that told

her it wasn't all entirely in jest. And she enjoyed it. She had never really

seen herself as "that sort" of woman, but it was fun to play at it, and she

had

to admit that although she never would have actually considered purchasing

such

clothes for herself, she did look rather sexy in them.

But it had stopped being a game several hours ago, when it grew dark and

started

getting cold. She felt self-conscious parading down the street in such a

trashy

outfit, and she felt humiliated when the inevitable propositions came. She

treated each one as if he might have been the Ripper, and it was more

frightening than she had thought it would be, even with Canfield and Turner

staying very close and moving in to flash their badges before things got out

of

hand. They had stopped their joking too. It was no longer a game. It was

police

work, and tawdry work at that—to say nothing of the danger.

He came out of the mist, sauntering slowly down the street, wearing a black

Inverness and carrying a soft black leather bag. The sound of his boot heels

on

the sidewalk seemed very loud.

"Hard night for a working girl, eh?" he said with a smile.