Ripping Time by Robert Asprin & Linda Evans

“Who do you think did it, then?”

“I dunno, ma’am, and that’s what we’re doin’ tonight, innit? Taking a bit of a look-see for ourselves, eh?”

Dominica Nosette, clearly not one to be dismissed so easily, dropped back to where Margo and Shahdi Feroz walked behind the chief inspector and Guy Pendergast. “Who do you think did it, Dr. Feroz? You never did name your top suspect, back on the station, despite all those marvelous theories about Satanists and mad lesbian midwives. Come, now, Dr. Feroz, who’s your favorite suspect?”

Neither Shahdi Feroz nor Dominica Nosette noticed the sharp stare from a roughly dressed man nearly invisible in the shadows of a dark alleyway. A man who abruptly changed course to follow them. But Margo did. And she noticed the heavy sap in his hand and the covetous look he cast at Shahdi Feroz and her carpet bag. He’d clearly heard Dominica Nosette call Shahdi Feroz “doctor” and doubtless figured there was something valuable in her satchel. Medicines, maybe, which could be sold for cash. Margo rounded on him in scalding language that brought the ill-dressed villain—and the entire Ripper Watch Team—to a screeching halt in the middle of Whitechapel Road.

“Cor, ‘ave a nice butcher’s, will you?” Margo shrilled, fists clenched as she advanced menacingly on him. “Ain’t you never clapped yer bleedin’ minces on no missionary doctor before, you gob-smacked lager lout? Takin’ ‘er to London Horse Piddle, so I am, an’ you lay a German on ‘er, I’ll clout you upside yer pink an’ shell-like, so I will! I ain’t no gormless git, I ain’t, I know wot a blagger like you is up to, when ‘e follows a lady, so g’wan, then, ‘ave it away on yer buttons! Before I smack you in the ‘ampsteads wiv a bleedin’ sap! C’mon, get yer finger out!”