Glitching to Fix Time {Poor Execution, Rewrite occurring in diff book}

Ch 8: Rip the mission highjacker

"You best stop following me, guv." A woman warned as she walked down an alley in old London Town. She had a knife in her hand, a man was following her, a boy at his side. A pair of muggers or rapists most likely. She knew she shouldn't have taken this shortcut, but there was certainly no turning back now. "You and the half pint."

The woman leaned against a barrel almost tipping it over in her haste to look over her shoulder, when she turned to look in front of her once more she saw a dead body and she let out a horrified scream.

"That is a most impressive scream." Rip praised as he took off his hat addressing the beyond freaked out woman. "In another era, you could have a career alongside Vincent Price."

"Don't mind my dad. He's here for the corpse, not for you." Jonas took the knife from the shell shocked woman. "I like the knife. You don't mind if I take this do you?" The woman could only stare in return. "Thank you."

"Rigor mortis hasn't set in. He's been dead less than four hours. Extreme pallor in the face and fingernails suggest rapid blood loss, yet not a drop to be seen. Killed off-site, his body dumped here, far from the illustrious streets of his upbringing. A handkerchief with his college crest... A graduation gift, no doubt." Rip was explaining all this to young Jonas but he didn't look like he cared one bit. In fact, he wasn't even listening.

"What do you make of that?" The woman asked impressed by his detective skills pointing to the puncture marks on the man's neck.

"Improbably, it appears that our killer is... a vampire." Rip replied voice all dramatic like as he said the final word. The lady gasped dramatically and fainted though it hadn't been at Rip's words.

"Jonas." Rip turned to the sound of his sons ds. The screen lighting the boys face as he sat on a nearby crate. "What have I told you about using future technology in the past?"

"Not too, but I can't help it. This is so boring." Jonas complained. "This father son trip to London isn't all that fun like you said it was gonna be."

"We're chasing a vampire. Uncovering clues. Investigating." Rip protested. "That's lots of fun."

"It is not. I'm sick of looking at dusty documents and dead men." Jonas complained. "I want to go home already. London sucks."

"Oi it doesn't suck." Rip sighed. "We will go home, Jonas. I promise as soon as this mystery is uncovered. We're closer than ever to proving Mallus is a real threat to the timeline and all those who live in it."

"Why won't they just believe me?" Jonas asked. "I've told them everything, how can they just ignore what I said? I saw him first hand. He's got horns and these really big wings- how much proof do they need beyond an eye witness account?"

"Evidently more than you can provide them with. In truth I never did believe they would listen to you, adults get scoffed at about this kind of thing, but don't worry. I'm on the case. We'll get what we need. They'll have to believe if we make them. Now then come along young Watson."

"Dad?"

"Yes, Jonas?"

"You're a rubbish Sherlock."

-meanwhile back on the waverider-