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"'Ere, none o' that, now," said the police I said"

He prodded Volkov in the side

Volkov jerked around with a snarl The policereide and his jaw dropped as he hacked away involuntarily, staring at the wild, yellowish eyes, the snarling mouth flecked with foa teeth…

Volkov crouched on the edge of the bench, growling low in his throat, his clawed hands digging into the wood, his eyes staring at the police down to his shoulders, which were hunched as he crouched upon the bench, his legs bent under hi

"'Ere you," said Jones sing hard and backing any from him fearfully, "you stop that, now, understand?" Volkov leaped

Constable Jones had enough presence ofbeneath the leap, which carried Volkov several yards past hiht it to his lips, and blew three shrill blasts in rapid succession Volkov crouched several yards away fro like a beast, his teeth bared in a snarl, saliva dribbling down onto his chest The policeman turned and ran

Moving with astonishing speed Volkov sprang after hiht hiht hiing deep into the policeman's shoulders Constable Jones cried out and rolled over beneath hi for his life He ht, but the blow had alht hand, fingers hooked like talons, and brought it down in a slashing motion across the constable's face

Jones screa claws opened up his face froht side of his jawbone And then the snarling ed down Sharp teeth fastened in his throat, ripping it open, severing the jugular and sending a fountain of arterial blood spurting out into Volkov's savage face The policele and then there was no sound at all except for the sounds of Volkov feeding

Inspector Grayson pulled back the bloody sheet, allowing his coue Unlike the sallow, thin-featured and clean-shaven Grayson, he was robust, thirty-five years old, six feet tall and broad- shouldered with a tanned co dark hair and a thick, bushy, dark moustache He examined the wounds in a professional manner

"The constable's name was Jones," said Grayson "Allan Jones Worked out of Bishop's Gate Station He was a good lad, according to his sergeant, strong, alert, not one to dawdle about The body was S discovered on the Whitechapel platform by a" He paused to consult his notebook "… a Mr Randall Jarvis, track ineer for the East London Railway The time of discovery was approximately four am Apparently, there were no witnesses What do you make of the wounds, Doctor?"

"Interesting," said the large man in the tweed suit He reached into the pocket of his jacket and ree bowled briar He took out a rolled leather pouch filled with shag tobacco and started to pack his pipe

"Those slash marks across his face," said Grayson, "and the way the throat's been torn open, suggest to arden tools, you knohat the devil do you call it?"