One day in 1888 a note arrived from Scotland Yard.
When Holmes opened it, he laughed and jumped to
his feet. 'Inspector Lestrade wishes to see me,' he
said. 'The police need my help, Watson. You know, of
course, that someone is murdering women in
Whitechapel?'
'Of course,' I replied. 'The newspapers are full of it.
Three women are dead, and the police seem unable
to find the killer. Everybody knows this. Life is cheap
on the streets of White chapel for women of that
kind. What can interest you in their miserable
deaths?'