Chapter 92: What did you touch?

Chapter 92: What’s it touching?

The girl with the parasol wrapped her arm around Arthur and led him through the narrow, crowded streets.

Although it wasn’t Arthur’s first time in this kind of place, the choking odor still forced him to frown.

The parish of St. Giles was just as dirty, but it was at least a once rich neighborhood, and some of the buildings and road plans still showed its once glorious past.

On the other hand, Tauerhamletts was a district that had never been built properly in the first place, where the roads were made of a mixture of dirt and garbage, and the alleys had a grimy odor everywhere, even the brick dust was soaked with moisture, making it look wet and slimy.

Although some basic drainage ditches were built next to the houses, the ditches were often clogged because no one had cleared them for a long time, and all kinds of blackened and putrid garbage were clogged in the corners, emitting a gust of shocking stench that would make people feel dizzy after one sniff.

However, the people of the Eastern District could not be blamed for this, after all, if any area had a combination of docks, shipbuilding, brewing, slaughtering, and leather tanning using urine, it would be hard not to create such a poor sanitary environment.

Perhaps sensing that Arthur’s pace had slowed down, the girl thought he was getting suspicious and busied herself with reassurance.

“Sir, you probably haven’t been here before, right? I’d actually like to find a clean inn, but we don’t see much of that sort of thing here. Those who are in our line of work usually bring their guests to their own rented houses. You can look around if you don’t believe me, and if you find an inn, then I’ll consider this one a wasted endeavor, and I won’t charge you a shilling.”

In this the girl spoke the truth.

It was true that it was difficult to find an inn in the East End of London, and this was chiefly due to the fact that two hundred years ago it was nothing more than a field adjoining London.

And the Colebrooke family, who held title to the land in the area, had always run it as an estate, with the East End being sold off in small parcels and eventually leased out in strips.

The leases of these lands lasted for decades and years.

Countless small, simple, crowded houses were erected on these narrow plots of land, with architectural layouts devoid of any notion of urban planning, and never considered leaving any space for public buildings or oncoming roads.

Perhaps the tavern owners, who had their eyes on the money, could have deducted a few more benches from the already spacious roads if they had bothered to do so.

It is not surprising, then, that there are so few buildings with such a large footprint as inns.

On the bright side, the layout of the buildings in the East End is like the improvisation of an artist’s inspiration.

At worst, it’s mankind’s own interpretation of what constitutes anti-human behavior.

Arthur was led by the girl through two narrow, deep alleys to a back-to-back, dense, blue-roofed townhouse made of red brick.

They were crowded and jammed together, the red brick walls so densely packed with windows that they looked like two pieces of cheese squeezed together hard by a violent maniac.

Other than that, what impressed Arthur the most was its unique structure; perhaps because it was at the intersection of three narrow streets, the house was actually designed as a triangle.

The triangle was highlighted by a rusty red door, which opened to reveal a narrow staircase that was only big enough for one person.

In order to maximize the utilization rate, there is actually a locked cubicle tucked under the stairs, and judging from the dirty, lint-stained footprints on the floor, the tenants may be working in a nearby textile factory.

And the room the girl rented was on the second floor leaning in, Arthur followed the girl into the room, he scanned the surroundings, the environment here was a little better than he had imagined.

A clean and tidy queen-sized bed, windows with decent lighting conditions, plus a teapot and cooking utensils placed on a small round table, and a closet against the wall.

The fullness of life made Arthur certain that this might actually be the maiden’s quarters, and perhaps that was why she specialized in picking on expatriate sailors.

Foreign sailors were unfamiliar with the area, and most of them wouldn’t stay in London for long, so there wouldn’t be much of an aftermath even if they were pitched.

But if it is against the local sailors, then these people will have to weigh the possible consequences.

Everyone knows that most of the sailors who run merchant ships these days are not good people.

Some of them chose to go to the sea to make a living, not only for the sake of a little salary, but also because there are some unspeakable secrets, so they can not stay in their hometown.

And Scotland Yard’s major crime file records back up this view, with the serial killings on Ratcliffe Highway in London’s East End in 1811 suspected to be the work of a sailor.

At the time, the local magistrates’ court was nearly stormed by an angry public because of the long delay in solving the case, and the magistrates had to order the arrest of a suspect in order to cope with the agitated public. Although, according to Arthur, the suspect may not be the real murderer.

He never confessed to his crime, but inexplicably chose to hang himself in prison.

But after all, dead people can’t talk, and the murders didn’t continue after that, so the magistrate’s court concluded that he was afraid of committing suicide, and even put his body on a hay wagon and paraded it in the street.

In order to prevent the murderer from coming back to life, the angry and superstitious public even climbed onto the hay wagon and put an iron nail in his chest.

Arthur was slowly getting used to this kind of drama.

This era is like this, barbaric with a little bit of civilization.

Call it unethical, but it did go through the trial process.

If you say it’s legal, there’s a hint of weirdness everywhere in this case.

If you look into it, it’s like a comedy full of black humor, and there is always a hint of slapstick in the helpless sadness.

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed with his pipe in his mouth and exhaled smoke rings.

He was mulling over those cases he had seen before, when he looked back and realized that the girl had at some point removed her long skirt, revealing her pale thighs and tightly corseted corset.

The girl smiled and leaned in when she realized that he was hesitant to move, thinking that he was being shy.

“What? Are all the men over in India as reserved as you? I’ve never been to India, but I’ve heard sailors talk about it, and they say it’s full of wool, spices, and tea.

Many of the young men of the squire’s family go to the East India Company for a few years, and come back as rich men. Your father must have been one of them. How did you come to be a sailor?”

Arthur asked as he puffed on his cigarette, “You’re not quite the same as the average lady, most ladies know all about pretty dresses and cosmetics, and you actually know about India.”

Arthur’s compliment flattered the other woman and she smiled as she slipped her hand into Arthur’s coat.

“To tell you the truth, I was actually born in Cambridgeshire, and when I came down to London from the countryside a few months ago, there was a Cambridge student of good character in the same car, whose father turned out to be a clerk in the East India Company, and I heard all this from him.”

Arthur looked down at the girl’s hand that had reached into his coat and sighed with a slight shake of his head, “As I said, don’t touch my things or put your hand in my coat or you risk touching something you shouldn’t.”

The young girl thought that Arthur was flirting with her, and her eyebrows were all smiles, “That’s what you men are always saying, so let me touch what it is that I shouldn’t be allowed to touch, and let me guess …… that must be… …”

Suddenly, her hand felt something cold and hard in the inner pocket of her coat.

The smile on the girl’s face suddenly froze as she carefully coiled the object.

A moment later, there was also a hint of panic and alarm in her eyes as she looked at Arthur.

She had already understood what it was, and although it was uncommon, it was more than likely going to kill someone every time she encountered it.

“You …… you ……”

The smile was already gone from the young girl’s face, and her voice was trembling even as she spoke, “I can give you whatever you want, and I don’t want any money for this order, I’m just begging you not to jeopardize my life.”

Arthur sipped on his cigarette and let out a long puff of smoke, even his speaking accent became normal.

“Don’t be afraid, ma’am. I don’t mean to hurt you half the time, just think of me as a regular customer. I don’t know the rules of your business, so I’d like to ask, how far have we come? Are you just going to scream next, or are we going to go through the motions again?”

Thanks to the two allies, Time and Day and Favorite Zero Clothes Up, for their rewards, I currently owe 2 chapters of allies plus more, and 1 chapter of the day before yesterday’s owed, for a total of 3 more.

(End of chapter)