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Exhausted Robin and  Cormoran  entered the building in Denmark Street. It was raining and getting colder by the minute. With heavy and tired steps, Strike got upstairs and entered the office, Robin by his side. They were both dirty and wet. Her dress was partly ripped, so was his shirt. She helped him sit down and put on the small lamp on her desk before she slipped out of her coat and headed to the kitchen unit to get the first-aid-kit. Strike had some bruises and a cut over his left eye they needed to take care of. They both stayed silent. His eyes rested on hers. Worried, careful. This case had taken its tool and both were exhausted. Physically as mentally. It had been even more intense than the  Shackwell  Ripper case  in some ways  and was a bloody and dangerous business for them. Wardle seemed to be the only one at Scotland Yard, willing to help them. There had been various murders of prostitutes and the woman who owned the strip club the girls were working in, had hired them. Since they haven’t had many cases, Strike had agreed and had started investigating. One after the other, the girls vanished from the club, that also had some rooms for more private sessions, and were found dead a few days later. After a while Robin offered to help. He had argued with her but she wouldn’t listen and soon started to work in the club as waitress. Strike was worried and very protective when he watched her during the nights and tried to ignore the lustful looks that followed her. During her shifts she wore nothing more than a very tight and short black dress that showed way more than he had liked. He could see her stockings and the back of the dress was open as well. She wore some heavy make-up and a red wig to cover her identity. At work she was Amy Lewis. Robin was very good in her role and for most of the time the men were too occupied giving her much thought so they left her alone. Cormoran still kept watching her and was observant.   

Today had been different though. Robin had been different. He had immediately seen that she had cried when she entered the office in the morning. Robin had looked restless and he knew that her relationship with Matthew was complicated. Her husband was jealous and made her feel bad for working at the office, doing what she loved. They regularly had fights and  Cormoran  presumed, that Robin knew that he cheated on her again. Yet she stayed with him. But the Detective had sworn himself to stay silent and to not interfere. He had made them a cup of tea and  presented her with some information he had retrieved with Wardle while questioning the young women who worked at the club.   

“They told us that all women left with an older guy. They all said he looked rich and wore an expensive suit and watch, also glasses and he got already a bit grey. We looked for some CCTV footage but every time it shows him it’s from the back. No front picture. He knew what he was doing. He tactically evaded the cameras. But we’ve a good description of him, maybe we’ll find him tonight.”  

Robin just nodded and  sipped at her tea. She was quite absent and not really listening.  Cormoran  watched her for a while and decided to ask her what was wrong. Robin looked up when he broke the silence between them once more.  

“What’s wrong Robin? You look as if you haven’t slept at all and cried all night.”  

“I’m fine Cormoran”, she waved his concern away and stood up to drown her tea in the sink.   

It just didn’t taste right today. She could feel  Cormoran’s  looks and finally decided to turn and face him once more. She knew that he was worried. She knew that he wasn’t stupid and would find out eventually so it was better to tell him now. Robin just wanted to tell her partner what was going on, when the office door opened and Wardle stormed inside.   

“We got another one”, he just said and looked very pale.   

“Where?”  

“Whitechapel cemetery.”  

“That’s odd”,  Cormoran  said. “The others were all found in alleyways near the club.  

“Yeah and the worst thing”, Wardle said and handed Strike today’s newspaper, “is today’s headline.”  

Strike read it.  Ripper strikes again. Is Whitechapel still safe?    

“Fuck...”,  Cormoran  grumbled and quickly read through the article.   

A new attack on a prostitute shook the neighbourhood of Whitechapel last night. She was found dead on the local cemetery. Raped, murdered, tossed away. This isn’t the first dead woman in the last months so people already start talking about a new Jack  The  Ripper. Women are afraid to go on the streets, especially at night. Even the police  is  at a loss and they involved Detective  Cormoran  Stick from Denmark Street and his secretary. Will these two be able to find the Ripper before more women get killed?   

He grumbled something and tossed the paper at Robins desk while getting up, opening one of the windows and lighting up a cigarette. Robin took the paper and read the article himself. She understood why he was this angry. Those things weren’t supposed to get public before they had more evidence to who killed the women.   

“What do we do now?”, she asked into the silence. “Continue?”  

“We have to”, said Wardle.   

And that’s how they ended up here. They had researched and made their way to the club in the evening. Robin played her usual part as a waitress and  Cormoran  watched her. He had been more nervous than usual. Mostly because she was still quite absent and not herself. It was late and he got sleepy. No wonder after all those short nights over the last weeks. He decided to head out and have a cigarette when it happened. Robin served and older man who occupied a small table in a darkened corner of the bar. She put the Gin Tonic in front of him before he took her hand and pulled her on his lap.   

“You’re a very beautiful woman. I’ve been watching you for quite some time now. What’s your name?”  

"Amy”, Robin lied and immediately felt uncomfortable by his touch and his hands on her naked skin.   

“You want to come with me? I’ll pay you a generous sum.”  

“I... I don’t do this”, she stammered and looked for  Cormoran  but he wasn’t there.   

“What about an exception?”, he purred into her ear. “For me.”  

Robin struggled to get free and finally he let her and she made her way to the bar again. She tried to concentrate on her job and cover and soon the evening was over. She looked to  Cormoran  and he just nodded. He’d leave and meet her outside, like the days before.  Robin helped clean up and didn’t even bother to change when she stepped outside the back door, into the dark alleyway beside the club. She felt exhausted and sleepy when she made her way to the front. Before she could look for Cormoran, a car stopped in front of her and the man from before got out. Once more she wanted to say to him, that she wouldn’t come, when he quickly stepped to her, dragged her into the car and drove off. Strike, distracted by a call from Wardle, just heard her scream and quickly hurried to the entrance of the alley to get to her. He could only see a car leaving but Robin was gone.  

“Fuck!”, he screamed his anger into the night.  

He could hear Wardle at the other end of the phone shouting his name before he took the phone to his ear once more.  

“What is wrong, mate? What was that scream and what’s going on?”  

“He got Robin. This fucker just dragged her into a car. We need to find her Wardle.”  

“Can you describe the car or...”  

“Shit!”,  Cormoran  shouted when he saw the car starting to zigzag on the road before it drove into the pillar of a nearby bridge. Quickly he hurried to the car, ignoring Wardle’s calls at the other end of the phone. He could see Robin crawl out of the wrecked car and a man coming after her, holding a gun.  Cormoran  ran as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his leg, and jumped the other man while  trying to  get him away from his partner.  

“Robin!”, he shouted her name. “Run!”  

The two men struggled who would get the gun and it was a ruthless fight. The other man held him down and got up, pointing the gun at Robin. Strike quickly got up and pulled him away once more. They both got some heavy hits from one another and soon  Cormoran  got a heavy bleeding cut over the eye. He was desperate. If this fucker got away, he’d kill Robin. Another murderer would be free. Robin didn’t know what to do and tried to help him but the man just shoved her away brutally and she stumbled back. They still fought over the weapon when a shot teared the silence of the night. Robin shouted his name and hurried to him when her kidnaper sank down, a gunshot wound in his stomach. They could hear sirens. Robin hurried to him and hugged her partner quickly.   

“Are you alright?”, she asked out of breath and he nodded while an ambulance and some police cars stopped beside them.  

The ambulance hurried to the wounded suspect while Robin held him. Not letting go of  Cormoran  in fear of losing him. Wardle stepped to them, looking at the scene, their battered clothes, their wounds, the crashed car, the blood in Cormoran’s face.  

“What happened? Are you guys okay?”  

“I’m fine”, the Detective said. “You should check Robin though after the car crash.”  

“I’m good”, she mumbled. “Nothing happened.”  

Neither Wardle nor her partner listened and she was shoved to the ambulance to get checked while the second ambulance car drove off to get the other man to hospital. She had a mild concussion but nothing serious.  Cormoran  and Robin gave their statements and then made their way home to Denmark Street.   

Now they sat in the half-dark office, Robin tending to his wounds while he just kept looking at her. Having her in another accident due to a case had made him once more realise that their job was more dangerous than they expected and that he couldn’t deal with losing her due to it. He had deeper feelings than he would ever admit in front of her. Deeper feelings than was good for their partnership. Startled by his look she stopped and waited with a shy smile.  

“Are you okay?”, Robin the mumbled, shove the urge to kiss him away.   

She had felt it for a while now. The change between them. Yet she tried so hard to resist. To make her marriage work again but deep down the young woman knew, it wouldn’t work out. She too had deeper feelings for her partner than she would admit to anyone. Being so close to him now, seeing the love, worry and adoration in his eyes made her weak.  Cormoran  softly caressed her cheek with his bandaged hand and she closed her eyes for a second.   

“I... I nearly lost you today”, he mumbled.  

“You know, nothing had happened. I’m fine.”  

“Still it was a dangerous business, crashing the car while he fled. You could have died. I... I can’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”  

“I know”, she said and looked at him, softly letting a finger slide over the stubbles on his cheek. “I was so afraid. When the gun... I.... I thought it was you who got shot.”  

“Wouldn’t be the first time”,  Cormoran  joked softly and smiled a bit.  

“Still. You know I feel the same”, she said and he  startled  a bit.  

Feel the same about what? Tell me, he internally shouted at her. He needed to know!  

“I don’t want you to get shot over this job. I’m worried you’ll catch a bullet one day with your recklessness.”  

“Nothing bad will happen, I promise”, he lied although he knew she was right.   

Her eyes wandered to his lips and she got a bit closer.  Cormoran  could feel the change, saw her move and he also wanted it. He wanted to feel her lips on his. Kiss her and tell her how much she meant to him. How important this was for him. How much he loved her. Yet he resisted and smiled.  

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”  

“That would be nice”, she said and smiled a bit.  

Gosh he loved that woman. But he could never tell her since she belonged to Matthew and could never be his. Robin took care of covering the cut with a large band aid, helped him into his coat and they both made their way to Robin’s place. He walked her home to keep her safe. He walked her home because he couldn’t stand being alone. Not since he had found her. He walked her home, because he loved her....