Ingrid continually ran fingers across her forehead to remove small sweat bead there. She wasn’t very sure if it was due to being in a room with a furnace and a few other bodies or how much she ran everyone’s words and try to piece it together, likely the latter. She slumped in her seat with a heavy sigh, oh how her head buzzed as if she had taken one too many swigs of alcohol. 

 “If anyone is of worth becoming an ally of us, just as Hadley said they should either have records or have been close to the Ripper just as us. Maybe it’s worth keeping an eye on not only the ripper but other subjects close to our scene, and newspapers. Since we can’t bring up the existence of this to authorities to keep this from becoming public, I’m sure someone else has been crazy enough to do so in the past. People like that are the laughing and conversational points of the public, plus older newspapers should be on record somewhere, if not here. Maybe we could track those people down if they’re still alive.” Ingrid tapped her fingers on her thighs, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Yes, hunting isn’t as difficult, depending on whether you want to follow him or have him come to us. Baiting, maybe. A young, prostitute women.…”