I could now draw a rather faithful rendering of the entire district, with all of the streets and many of its buildings. Also, I could name at least thirty individuals in the area whose names we had reason to learn, and several dozen others whom I recognized but whose names I did not yet know. In short, I knew the area well enough to have grown tired of it, and bored with everything and everyone. I was there to help find a killer, not to be entertained; I know that, but still, I had been in Whitechapel long enough that I felt I had come to know all her secrets, save for the one we had come there to learn. I knew, for example, that there was a missing cobble in Whitechapel High Street on the left by the cotton warehouse. I knew, because I had stepped into the hole on several occasions. All evening, men were coming off work and going home, unless they worked the overnight shift, in which case they were having their dinner with strong tea in order to stay awake the rest of the night. The evening shift was dangerous.
