City Hall, a large modern building that somewhat resembles a head, sits on the banks of the Thames, close to Tower Bridge. It was designed by an award winning architect, and thus is an eyesore.
She walked up to the entrance and leaned on the recption desk, a smile on her face. The receptionist, a young woman of Asian extraction, looked up at the redhead, returning her smile.
"Hi," she nodded, "I'm Felicity, can I help?"
"Andrea Van," the redhead hoped this girl hadn't got any contacts at Scotland Yard. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here - a guy from the achives."
"Yes," the girl checked the appointments file on her computer. "Mr. Popple. He should be waiting for you over there." She indicated a fat man who was snoring gently on an easy chair.
Andrea walked over to the man who had to be Mr. Popple, and prodded his stomach. He woke, flapping and looking affronted.
"Young lady!" he looked up at the smiling redhead, "I'll have you know that that just isn't done! What do you want, anyway?"
"I'm Andrea Van," she told him, smiling, "and I am sorry for that."
"If you atre anything like you were described," he told her sternly, "I very much doubt that. You want to look at the archives, do you?"
"My associate told you what I wanted," Andrea declared, hoping he had, since the Green Man had not told her.
"Well yes, of course," he snorted. "Appearances of Jack the Ripper or Ripper-like crimes in London outside the official tally. Am I right?"
"Guess so," Andrea sighed. "Fire away."