Chapter 55: A Confusing Case

Chapter 55: A Confusing Case

Funeral Mutual?
Arthur stepped out of old Fagin’s house and looked down the muddy street in front of him, his head still reeling from the key words he had mentioned earlier.

According to old Fei Jin’s words, nowadays in the poor group of London, this kind of funeral mutual aid society is very popular.

Although the British Isles had already entered the age of industrialization, many traditional customs had not disappeared because the Middle Ages were far away.

Funerals, as important rituals in Christian and British culture, still hold an important and unique place in the hearts of many people.

In the parish of St. Giles, every poor family had a common, unwritten rule.

Each week they were expected to save three pence for the father of the family, two pence for the mother and one penny for the children, but this money was not to be used for the betterment of their lives, it was to be used to prepare for their afterlife.

Traditionally in Britain, no matter how poor the dead were, they deserved a decent and dignified funeral, as it was probably the only shred of dignity they could enjoy in their lives.

Thinking about this, Arthur felt a little familiar and a little heartbroken.

Because of the different cultures, it was often difficult for him to understand some of the cultural customs here.

But the importance placed on mourning and honoring after death reminded him of the land that had haunted his soul countless times.

Until now he didn’t understand why the old people obstinately considered the burial ceremony before entering the ground; only those who had suffered all their lives could understand the true meaning of this ceremony.

Perhaps it was a bit old-fashioned, but it was also their seal to the world that they had once lived, the last little trace that they had once walked in the world.

“Arthur?” Officer Tom called out to him softly, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing?” Arthur asked as he re-struck his extinguished pipe and spoke, “Are there many funeral mutuals like this one among the poorer groups in London today?”

Tom held Adam in one arm and scratched the back of his head with the other, “I suppose there are quite a few. My wife has mentioned some of them to me, not only are there Funeral Mutual Aid Societies, but there are also Medical Aid Societies, Women’s Reading Societies, Textile Workers’ Help Societies, and a whole mess of associations, some of which I can’t even name.”

Tony frowned as he listened, “What kind of associations are these? It can’t be a radical Jacobin-like organization like the London Correspondence Society and the Sheffield Society for the Knowledge of the Constitution, can it?”

Tom hurriedly waved his hand and denied, “No, no, they’re just simple associations that help each other out. For example, the Women’s Book Club is an association where ladies get together to read and learn.

Each member pays a few pence a week to borrow books from their library free of charge, and if a member is too sick to work, the society will give her some financial support until she recovers.

In the case of the Medical Relief Society, families who could not afford a doctor joined together to hire a permanent doctor to care for each member. Of course, the dues are based on the number of people in the family, and the larger the family, the more they pay.

It’s what poor people come up with when they have no other choice, not an organized Jacobin group.”

Arthur sipped his cigarette, “It doesn’t matter even if it is, free association is allowed now anyway, we’ll just keep a close eye on them at most.

As long as they don’t make a big story like the Cato Street Plot of 1820 where they were preparing to assassinate a cabinet member, then we’ll just turn a blind eye and let them be.

After all, I don’t want to hear any more news of the Army pulling out of the city of London, that wouldn’t be good for either side.

If one day there are mutual aid organizations like this all over London and beyond, I’m sure the world will be a better place, or at least better than it is now. When that time comes, maybe us Scotland Yard policemen won’t have to hang around with sticks all day, and I’ll be able to buy cheap penny newspapers.”

Tony heard this and bristled, shaking his head, “Arthur, you’re thinking too much. I’m not asking them to sell me a penny newspaper, I’m just asking those street vendors not to spit at us when they see one in a police uniform in the future.”

Dickens pulled out the notes he had left behind during his earlier colloquy with old Fagin, and while reading them over and over again, inquired, “According to Mr. Fagin, someone around here is in the business of adopting vagabonds, and then using them to scam for burial grants?”

Arthur nodded slightly, “Although that’s what the words say, when you think about it, it doesn’t explain it. Or rather, it doesn’t explain everyone’s disappearance.

From the data we’ve gotten our hands on so far, it’s not just stray children and frail females that have gone missing, but also a lot of homeless people in their prime.

And many of them have just been released from prison. I went to Scotland Yard and the Home Office the other day to check the criminal records of these people, and some of them have been charged with violent crimes.

I’m afraid it won’t be that easy for those who make a fortune out of death to get this group of people to go to their deaths obediently.”

Tony thought for a moment and suddenly asked with a dark face, “Arthur, are you saying that bad old man isn’t telling us the truth? I’m going back to find him right now!”

Who knows that before Tony could take a step, he was pulled by Arthur.

“He should have said everything he could, except what he said isn’t the same thing we want.

Killing family members to cheat them out of funeral benefits should indeed exist, but at least there isn’t a massive concentration of it at the moment.

Otherwise, the first ones to call the police shouldn’t be the Duke of Sussex, but those other families who attended the funeral aid meetings.

After all, an unfamiliar family just joined the association and started dying in large numbers, anyone in their right mind would feel that something is wrong.”

Arthur flipped through the missing list in his hand again as he spoke, “I just reclassified the missing data at hand again while talking to Mr. Fagin, and it led me to a very interesting discovery.”

Tony hurriedly pursued, “What problem?”

Arthur said, “The distribution of missing time for young and middle-aged males has been relatively even, instead, the percentage of missing females, middle-aged and elderly males, and street children has been climbing over the past two months.

According to Duke Sussex’s report, a total of nine females have only gone missing in these six months, but these two months accounted for six.

The number of missing middle-aged and elderly males and stray children has also spiked in these two months, don’t you think that’s interesting? What does that tell you?”

Hearing this, the red devil on the side suddenly covered his mouth and snickered, “Wow! My dear Arthur, I didn’t expect you to realize something was wrong so quickly.”

Dickens froze for a moment, but he quickly came back to his senses, “Arthur, are you saying that the disappearance actually involves more than one case?”

Arthur took a deep drag on his cigarette, “No, it’s not more than one case that’s involved, it’s more than one type of case I’m afraid.”

(End of chapter)