In the heart of London, fog rolled in, thick and heavy. Gas lamps flickered, casting eerie shadows. A lone figure hurried through cobblestone streets. Suddenly, a scream echoed, chilling the night. The figure stopped, listening. Another scream, desperate, pleading. The figure rushed towards the sound. A dark alley, a body lay still. Blood pooled, reflecting the dim light. A woman, lifeless eyes staring. A murder, fresh and brutal. The figure knelt, checking for signs of life. None. A glint caught the eye, a clue. A locket, gold and ornate. The figure pocketed it, looking around. No witnesses, only silence. The game of cat and mouse had begun.