“What d’you think, sir?” asked Constable Wilhelm Maniculatus. “Should we round up all the apothecaries and chymists?”

“Hmm?” replied Detective Liam Leucopus, awoken from his sleepless nightmare. “Oh, um, that would seem prudent. The Ripper would have to be a mouse of learning to concoct such a substance.”

“So, I’ll get the boys right on it, then,” Wilhelm said, giving his friend a sideways glance. “Sir?”

“Yes, yes,” Liam sputtered forth. “But quietly. And make sure you find out from Doctor Sylvaticus which apothecary he’s working with; I’ll interrogate that mouse myself.”

“The one lookin’ into the anti-coy-ag-you-lent?” asked Wilhelm.

“Yes, the one researching the substance,” Liam said, brow furrowed. “I want to know more about this… this… terrible business. Sickening.”

“What d’you mean, sir?”

“Dead bodies don’t heal wounds, Wilhelm,” replied Liam. “If the Ripper is using this chymical to make his victim’s continue to bleed, then he isn’t merely maiming the bodies; he’s torturing the mice.”