A special division of the Met has been formed, the details of which are of a delicate nature. Suffice it to say that Wicky, who had served in Her Majesty's Army for less than five years, (during which time he had earned several commendations, including the distinguished Candahar Ghuznee Cabul 1842 medal for service in Afghanistan), was honorably discharged in order to aid his friend, the current commissioner, in establishing and promoting this secret division.
Wicky is a man of highest capacity and character. Employing unorthodox approaches to crime-solving, he has singlehandedly apprehended hundreds of loose, idle, and disorderly persons who have given just cause to be suspected of evil designs and generally disturbing the public peace. Although a respectable, law-biding citizen above suspicion, in private circles Wicky is known for his voracious, deviant carnal appetites. He is a
notoriously "energetic" man, perhaps due in part to his professional affiliation with the "Society for the Suppression of Vice". This affiliation affords Wicky endless opportunities to engage in various forms of contact with hundreds of women who have fallen from the pedestal of virtue and innocence into the brothels and rooming houses of London. Since prostitution is legal in London, Wicky enjoys this aspect of society to its fullest.
Wicky resembles the United States President Abraham Lincoln. He has a full head of curly, cropped, dark brown hair. His facial hair includes thick arched eyebrows that give the appearance of constant surprise and sarcastic disbelief, mutton-chop sideburns, and a scraggly beard that frames his jaw. His penetrating dark-brown eyes and are said to bring some of London's finest women to their knees with but a single glance, which is where he often enjoys them.
Wicky is a witty and clever prankster. These characteristics, coupled with his untraditional methods, often lead criminals to underestimate his capabilities. He is currently on hunt holiday at Kenilworth Lodge, a scant stones throw from Ventrue Mansion.
