John POV: John was rather relieved to leave that strange man on the sidewalk as he took the hansom away, and it wasn't necessary because he was threatened. Sherlock Holmes seemed to be friendly enough, and yet John hadn't quite gotten used to people when they were friendly, he hadn't gotten used to people who seemed so keen on being neighborly. This may be a city, yet it was nothing near what London was, for everyone there stuck their noses up and ignored those who went by. People who sat alone at a café were destined to sit alone; there were no invasions of personal space just for introductions and welcome wagons. What Sherlock had done was very kind, going out of his way to introduce himself to John and to have a little chat with him while he sat alone, however there was always a part of him that felt uneasy when approached by strangers. He knew that Sherlock meant no harm, and he was almost ashamed to be relieved to be on his way to the police station and far away from that café. When John arrived to the station he was told that Greg had stepped out for some coffee, and so John was left waiting in that packed office and waiting for his partner's return. He took this time to look over the case files once more, taking out the file of the first to go missing (Tobias Gregson) and finally the last of the victims (John Clay) and put their files side by side. There similarities in the cases, similarities that might be related and also might just be coincidences. The last place they had been seen was their homes when they left in the evening, four and six o'clock according to their files. It was never said where they were headed, however John was able to assume that it was nowhere good. They were reported missing by their wives around noon the next day, which of course made John believe that their wives were used to them not returning home, that suggests some marital issues, possibly an affair that the wives had learned to deal with over the years. Not only that, but they almost looked alike, almost as this kidnapper (if she even did exist) had some sort of type. The similarities weren't striking of course, when seen together no one in their right mind would say that they looked related, however there was an almost ever present glow of attractiveness in the faces. John Clay had a photograph while Tobias Gregson was merely sketched, however they both had defined cheekbones and wide eyes, their hair was up kept and they both looked to be at least moderately wealthy. To think that these men might have walked out on their wives wasn't entirely out of the question, for it was men like this who would draw in the other women, those women who might try to tempt them out of their relationships and into their own web of disloyalty. It also wasn't entirely out of the question for these men to have been kidnapped, however John found that just a bit more out of the question. Most likely they had been tempted somewhere else, to the continent perhaps, by different women who had no clue to the mess they were making of the police station as they were trying to connect the pieces.
"What are you up to?" Greg's voice wondered not ten minutes in, as John was making notes of the connections between the victims on a little notepad. John jumped just a little bit, for he hadn't heard Greg make his entrance and therefore hadn't been expected to be interrupted so loudly.
"God Greg, you scared me!" John exclaimed, seeing that Greg was smirking as he went over to his desk and sat down.
"What, did you think I was the kidnapper?" he wondered with a little chuckle.
"No I just...well I didn't expect you, that's all." John clarified, shaking his head in exasperation and throwing his notebook back onto the desk where he had found it.
"Understandable, I suppose." Greg assured. "So what are we going to get up to today do you think? Got any more ideas of how to catch this woman?"
"We don't know if it's a single woman, if it's multiple, if it's even a woman at all...honestly Greg I've got nothing." John admitted with a sigh.
"Well we agree that there is probably some disloyalty going on, don't we?" Greg presumed.
"Yes I suppose we do agree on that." John agreed with a sigh.
"Well that's a start, and it gives us a place to search, as well." Greg decided with a little bit of a smile, as if he really liked where this was going.
"It gives us a place to search? Where on earth would..."
"A brothel, John!" Greg said excitedly, speaking loudly as if he thought that his excitement were kick start the same sort of enthusiasm in John. However with a nervous little chuckle john shook his head, for he knew that if he came anywhere near a woman such as the ones that crawled the floors of a brothel Mary would have his head.
"Greg I can't just go to a brothel, I'm married and that's...distasteful." John defended apprehensively, to which Greg just shrugged.
"Well ya I guess it's a bit distasteful, but not only does no one know you're married, but your wife doesn't have to know either. It can be like a double blind, where no one really knows what's happening except you." Greg suggested, to which John just shook his head.
"You really are mad." He decided.
"Oh come on John, it's for the investigation, is it not? We don't have to do anything but investigate, observe, it's strictly police business of course." Greg assured with a confident little nod. John shuffled for a little bit, shaking his head as if he knew he would end up regretting the decision he made. Greg was the definition of a bad influence, and yet John knew that he was right about one thing...it was police business.
"Fine, I'll go, but Greg all we'll be doing is interviewing. There will be no observation, no need for that now." John insisted with a sneer, to which Greg sighed heavily but evidently couldn't complain.
"Come on John, interviews are so boring, especially..."
"I am not letting you drag me to a brothel for 'police matters' and get left alone three minutes in because you can't control yourself!" John growled, to which Greg just smiled a bit guiltily.
"Ya that's probably what would happen." He admitted with a shrug, as if he wasn't too proud of such a thing but he wasn't going to deny it either.
"Precisely, so we'll do interviews tonight, maybe keeping it a bit early? Six o'clock maybe? So that my wife doesn't get suspicious." John decided with a nod.
"Alright then, six o'clock. Until then we've got some paperwork to do, I'm afraid. Janine wants it for the records, your being here and everything has complicated matters, and she needs official records of your interviewing with the wives and all of that. Tedious, I know, but it's work for the both of us I suppose." Greg sighed, whistling over the secretary who brought them each a folder filled with miscellaneous paperwork. John sighed heavily, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he had gotten himself into.
"Wonderful." He muttered, and with that he sat back in his chair and accepted the folder with a groan.
Thankfully Mary was an understanding wife, for despite Greg's instance that John didn't tell her anything, he warned her of his adventures none the same. John had stopped by the house to freshen up, deciding that if he was going to conduct interviews he ought to look his best, and so he picked out a suit and tie, so as to look like the professional police officer that he hoped to be. Mary had stayed home the whole day, for her pregnancy was making things considerably harder for her, and when John had arrived she had hoped for him to stay with her and at least make her evening a bit more exciting than her afternoon. The hotel room was getting considerably boring, and while she was trying to entertain herself with books and whatnot, the poor woman was running out of space in her imagination to distract her from the lack of horrible 'vacation' John had convinced her to go on.
"If I had known you would've been running about all day I would never have agreed to come!" Mary was whining, lying on the bed with her open book on the pillow next to her while John tried to remember how to tie a tie.
"Well what did you expect? I'm here for work, not for leisure." John defended. "I thought you'd like the beaches."
"I can't even walk John, my ankles are swollen and I feel nauseous every time I stand up! Why would you think the ocean would make me feel better?" Mary questioned, to which John shrugged innocently.
"Well I haven't got much experience with pregnancy, do I Mary?" John snapped, to which Mary just shook her head as if this was honestly exasperating.
"This will be your lesson then, pregnancy sucks." Mary whined. John nodded in agreement, although he was only half listening. Finally he had gotten his tie into a formal looking knot and was tying his shoes, checking the time so as to make sure to meet Greg at the station at five fifteen. They were to get to the brothel at six, and because of John's instance they would be interviewing the women instead of hiring them.
"I'm sorry to have to leave you tonight, but tomorrow night we can do something, alright? So long as nothing comes up." John promising.
"So long as nothing comes up? Are you telling me you're putting your work before your wife?" Mary asked, sitting up on the bed before groaning and lying back down, that look of anger constant throughout the whole process.
"No I'm just saying that people's lives might be on the line, and if I'm chasing some sort of killer I think it would be more important than sticking around here." John defended quickly, knowing that everything he was saying was only incriminating himself even more, however only one half of his brain was focused on this conversation. The other half knew that he had more important things to do, discuss, and think about, such as a kidnapper that might be working out of a brothel. And so when he finally kissed his wife goodbye (much to her disinterest) he took a hansom straight to the police station and sat deep in thought while the wheels clattered over the uneven paving stones that made up the road. Greg was waiting in his finest attire, talking excitedly to Janine about how he was using the station's funding for some whiskey and whatnot, before John came in and interrupted his little chat. John knew beforehand that this entire ploy was created just so Greg could drink and get a girl; however he was going to try to make it as professional as possible, for the sake of the investigation. If this was Greg's attitude towards the whole investigation then it really was no surprise that they hadn't found the missing men yet.
"Greg are you ready?" John wondered, straightening his top hat and feeling Janine's admiring eyes on him, almost as if she hadn't realized just how attractive he was before he had put on the suit and tie.
"Don't you look snappy?" Greg teased, prodding at John's tie to which he just slapped his hand away, blushing a little bit in humiliation. Greg looked nice of course, however it would seem as though his nice outfit wasn't anywhere near as nice as John's, and so John looked like the odd one out in this situation.
"I thought I should look good if we're interviewing." John defended; brushing off his suit so as to make sure it was properly flattened to which Greg just teased him a bit more.
"You're just trying to catch the attention of the women." He insisted, to which John just shook his head in some exasperation.
"What's with you and encouraging disloyalty?" John grumbled, to which Greg just chuckled and led John out to the police carriage. They rode in something of a comfortable silence; John went over his notes a little bit and made sure his pen was ready to write while Greg kept checking to make sure his hair looked good under the brim of his hat. John could already tell that this entire operation was going to be a waste of his time, for not only was Greg obviously using police resources to fund his night out, he was also dragging John into what was most likely doomed to be a wasted investigation. Surely nothing criminal was happening at this brothel...or at least nothing violently criminal. Brothels themselves were supposed to be illegal; however they all passed as bars with 'persuasive' waitresses or whatnot. John always wondered why police chose to forget about such operations, however his answer had come when he learned that most all of the police force spent their nights in places they should be shutting down. Corruption ran wild in the midst of the police station, and it was a shame since John had always made a point to be honest and follow the rules. And now here he went, to an illegal place of operation trying to conduct interviews while his partner tried to conduct even more private interviews. It was six o'clock when they arrived, just as John had intended it to be. The brothel was called Lady Irene's, and it would seem that even this hour of fading daylight was popular among the nightlife. There were multiple carriages and hansoms pulled up alongside, mostly of men who were exiting and slipping quickly into the establishment before anyone could get a good look at their face. It was so disgraceful how embarrassed men were of being seen at these places, especially since they had every reason to be so. They were too ashamed to be seen by other people; however they seemed to be perfectly okay with knowing themselves that they were disrespecting their wives and themselves. It just showed that the innermost core of mankind was rotten. Greg and John got out of the carriage and tried to look as official as they could while stepping up to the place. It was common for them to get some odd looks, and John actually felt ashamed as he stepped into the dimly lit establishment. There were quite a few tables set up, most of them filled with at least one or two men but others packed with five or six, all chatting loudly or passing around cards for some poker. No one looked up at the police as they walked in, for no one really cared about their mutual clientele, and thankfully John and Greg slipped in virtually unnoticed. Greg was immediately excited about the women who were walking around, many with large frilly dresses complete with very low necklines, and they all smiled and waved flirtatiously as they caught him staring. John just elbowed him, insisting that he didn't get himself into trouble, and started his way to the back where they might be able to find the owner of the establishment. John had brought a briefcase filled with the pictures and drawings of the disappeared men; however he had little hope that it would do much good. There must be hundreds of men that come in and out of here a night, surely no one had actually noticed their faces or even tried to remember then?
"John don't talk to Lady Irene, we don't want her out here anyway. Talk to some of the women walking around, they're more likely to know." Greg insisted in all seriousness, grabbing hold of John's wrist so that he didn't precede any farther towards the back door. John sighed heavily, almost suspecting Greg of just wanting to take advantage of talking to the women; however he had to admit that he had a point. Surely the owner, Lady Irene, would be nowhere out here with the clientele. Besides, if one of these women had any business with the men in question then they might have a better chance of recognizing them. The idea here wasn't to find the kidnapper, for they were quite certain that if there even was one they wouldn't operate in so public of a place. The idea was to prove that these men were in fact unfaithful to their wives, and therefore conclude that they might have left intentionally, with a woman of their choice. And maybe those women were from here, who knows? It was just one step closer to either furthering this investigation or closing it all together.
"Let's get a table then, flag one of them down." Greg decided. They did just that, however it turned out that they had no need of flagging anyone down, the women seemed ever so anxious to come to them. It must have been something to do with the attractiveness of the two men, for the women flocked to them, almost as if it would be their privilege to take them into the back. However John had to shoo one of them away from him, as she was getting much too close and he did in fact have a wife.
"We're not here socially, we're here for a formal investigation, we're detectives. Do you mind if we have a quick word?" John asked quickly, pushing a woman away who was trying to kiss his cheek. The woman immediately dropped her flirtatious persona, evidently realizing that there really was no use pretending if they were here waving their badges around.
"Detectives here?" she wondered, putting her hands on her hips and looking between the two men with a frown. "Not here to arrest us, are you?"
"No of course no, unless you're somehow tied up with the recent disappearances." Greg assured with a grin, obviously unable to take his eyes away from their interviewee's dress (and lack thereof). John kicked his feet from under the table, and Greg winced and cursed a little bit, as if trying to insist that John leave him alone to do his work.
"Well of course we're not tied up in those." The woman insisted with a scowl, shaking her head pointedly.
"Well you personally might not be, but tell me if you can, have you seen any of these men around here?" John wondered, holding up some of the pictures while Greg spread the rest around on the table for her to look at. The woman stared for a moment, tapping her long fingernails against her cheek as she studied the faces of the men in question.
"I don't remember much of my clientele, in fact I try to block them from memory as much as possible...however he looks familiar, that lad right there." She agreed, pointing to a picture of Reginald Musgrave, one of the missing men in question.
"Oh ya? And did he come here often?" John asked eagerly, handing her the picture so as to study a bit closer.
"I'd say he started coming here frequently for about three nights, here all night I think." She admitted.
"Did he ever pay any of the women?" Greg wondered, to which she shook her head in exasperation.
"Not to my knowledge. Those men are always so tedious, those who think this is a bar, those who think we're parading around just to be their waitresses." She groaned.
"He didn't pay any of you?" John clarified.
"Ya, didn't you hear me? Drinking all night, not even letting us touch him, well it's disrespectful, it really is!" she exclaimed with a shake of her head. John tried not to chuckle, for if this was this woman's idea of disrespectful than John couldn't imagine how low she must've sunk throughout her life.
"But he definitely was here? Maybe around March fifteenth?" John wondered, reading the date when Reginald disappeared from the scribbles left behind his photograph.
"You think I keep records of this stuff? No I don't know when he came, but I know he didn't do much at all! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm working." the woman snapped, clearing her throat and snapping a large smile back onto her face, going from miserable to pleasant looking in the blink of an eye before turning away and going back to where the rest of the men were seated.
"Well that helps." Greg grumbled.
"No it doesn't. If he had hired a woman we'd be on to them, but he hadn't, and that gives us nothing. It just tells us that sometime in the course of his life he went here, and that's really not a lot to go on." John grumbled, shaking his head in exasperation. Greg nodded, seeming much too distracted to care much about the failed attempt at getting some information.