"The Widow" Bertha

After Thomas Thames sent off the police who came to inquire, Bertha called "Can't catch" Jack from the street.

"Go, invite Mr. Holmes here." Bertha ordered a coin out of her pocket.

"No problem, ma'am!"

Unexpectedly, he smiled when he saw the coin, accepted Bertha's errand fee as usual, and winked, "Is it the older Mr. Holmes, or the younger Mr. Holmes?"

Bertha: "..."

This little guy!

All the youths in Thames knew about the existence of Mycroft Holmes, but even Thomas, who was closest to Bertha, rarely mentioned him on his own initiative.The reason is simple: Mrs Thames' lover is her own private affair.Since Mrs. herself separates personal affairs from gang affairs very clearly, it is naturally inconvenient for these little brothers to talk about it.

However, adults have scruples about men and women, but children don't care.

Especially Mrs Thames' boys, for whom Mycroft himself was hardly ever seen except Thomas, but a few street thieves who lingered in Pall Mall dressed as newsboys, these Lady's "little" boys, Rather, it was to learn more about Bertha's life.

Bertha didn't mind either, she knew it was just fun if she didn't get caught.So he just smiled and flicked his forehead lightly: "You're smart! I'm going to investigate Mrs. Charlaton's murder. Which Mr. Holmes would you like to invite?"

As soon as he mentioned the murder case, he immediately stopped joking if he couldn't catch it.

The little boy immediately restrained his indecent smile, and gave Bertha a British navy military salute in a dignified manner: "Got it! I'll go and invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes over here, please come to the office?"

Bertha thought for a while: "Meet Madam Raton directly, I want to go and see for myself."

Unexpectedly, in the end, she still had to go to the red light district herself.

The matter of the dead is not big or small in Whitechapel.The sickle of death is commonplace for the residents of the slums. Work-related injuries, diseases, and various accidents may cause misfortune.

But Mrs. Raton paid the protection fee, and if she died due to conflicts with others, she could still send her younger brother to solve the trouble.But what is before us is a naked murder that has even alarmed Scotland Yard, which is tantamount to slapping Mrs. Thames in the face.

She naturally had to go and see what was going on.

The real red light district is not as beautiful as the filming booths set up in film and television dramas. It is not much more decent than the shanty towns of the Irish and Gypsies. The prostitutes under the protection of Mrs. Raton did not stop at random on the street. The situation is nothing more than an extra roof when selling skin and meat.

Bertha walked into the cramped and dark room, and the strong smell of poor-quality cosmetics almost overwhelmed all her senses, but even so, it couldn't cover the musty smell and stench brought about by the harsh environment that hides dirt all the year round.

Seeing Bertha frowning slightly, Thomas immediately said, "Haven't you opened the window yet? The dead are kept in the back room, are you afraid that the smell of blood won't come out?!"

Prostitutes do not open their windows on weekdays, this is a rule.However, human life is at stake. Hearing what Thomas said, several women with thick makeup rushed to open the window.

"Where's Mrs. Lutton?" asked Bertha.

"Here, ma'am," replied Thomas, "Sherlock Holmes has arrived, and . . . "

"and also?"

"Uh," a look of distress appeared on the young man's face, "Lambert is here too."

Well, after all, he is Mrs. Raton's old friend. Thomas said it himself.With this relationship, Bertha couldn't say anything.

Mrs. Latton's "office" is in the innermost room. Bertha followed Thomas through compartments that were no more than palm-sized. Where to go, not to mention the sanitary environment.

After all, it was worse than Bertha expected.

No wonder Thomas killed himself not to touch these women. Although he was a gangster, he thought he was decent, so he probably didn't want to sleep with people in this environment.

As for Mrs. Latton's "office", at best it was a little bigger than the other compartments, with an extra window.As soon as Bertha entered the door, Mrs. Raton wailed like a hen whose neck had been trampled on, leaning on Lambert's broad chest and beating her chest: "Why did such a goddamn misfortune happen to my family?" Come on, what a fine person! How could he die so miserably, God, you have no eyes!"

Lambert also patted Mrs. Raton on the shoulder very distressedly: "Okay, my little baby, Mrs. Thames and I are here, don't be afraid, ah."

Bertha: "..."

Thomas: "..."

Handling the case, can you be more serious? !How many heavy breaths were made by Mrs. Latton's howling, and Bertha couldn't bear to look directly at Sherlock Holmes, and found that the young detective had entered the edge of patience.

He felt Bertha's gaze, and stared back unceremoniously: Did you ask me to come here just to listen to her talk? !

Bertha had no choice but to speak in a firm tone: "Okay, don't act like you haven't died here. You have been a bustard for so many years, why haven't you seen anything?"

Another loud wail answered her.

Bertha had no expression on her face: "Who are you crying for? I specially brought someone here to help you investigate the case, and I'm not responsible for coaxing people back when they howl away."

Mrs. Raton immediately shut up.

She pretended to wipe away the non-existent tears: "The police are going to take him away, but fortunately Thomas stopped him. Now the body is in the inner room, you have to hurry up, I don't want my sister to be buried in time after death. "

Holmes: "Where is the exact location?"

It turned out that he was the young man whom Mrs. Thames called "special investigation".Mrs. Latton looked the thin and tall Sherlock Holmes up and down for a long time, and then called a young girl from outside the house: "Go, take him to Martha."

When the thin girl heard that she was going to meet the dead, she immediately hesitated.

Sherlock Holmes was already impatient, and he even comforted the girl who called in: "You don't need to go in person, just show me the way."

"That, that's good," the girl nodded timidly, "Sir, please come to me."

Without another word, Holmes strode out of the room.

Bertha was about to follow, but was stopped by Mrs. Raton. The bustard wearing heavy makeup asked in a low voice, "Before you said that my Katie was not good enough for your brother, how about this...?"

Bertha: "..."

Your Katie is even more unworthy!

It can be seen that Mrs. Raton doesn't really care about the death of her family.

Just like what Bertha said, she is a bustard, she has been working for so many years, what terrible things haven't she seen?Whores died on men's bellies beyond count, from illness, from accidents, and some sons-of-a-bitch who love to watch the living suffer and die.

The reason why Mrs. Latton howled so badly and called her old friend over to support the scene was nothing more than trying to get some favors from Bertha.

It is not that Sherlock Holmes is so impatient because he hates worldly scenes.Although the dignified detective will not be easily moved by the parting of life and death, he will still choose to respect the grief and condolences of the living.

He was impatient because Mrs. Raton didn't care about the victim at all, and such perfunctory on the surface made people feel disgusted from the bottom of their hearts.

On the contrary, facing the dead body directly made the young detective look much better.Bertha followed, without saying a word, he threw the extra white gloves over: "Did the police bring someone here for an autopsy?"

"Bring it."

It was Thomas who answered him: "If you have any questions about basic information, I should be able to answer them."

Holmes smiled slightly. "I only hope the people at Scotland Yard haven't wrecked the body."

After speaking, he lifted the shroud.

Twelve hours had passed since the body was discovered, but it was summer, and the body of the deceased had already begun to change.When Holmes uncovered the cloth, the subtle rancid stench quickly spread to the closed room.

But when the whole body of the corpse appeared in front of people, no one was in the mood to care about the stench filling the nasal cavity.

What came into view was devastation, the woman who had died long ago was dying, her body was covered with deep gully knife wounds, and the blood stained her torn clothes completely red.The solidified and blackened cloth was mixed with the torn flesh, and the torso of the deceased was a mess, and it was almost impossible to tell where was the torso and where was the cloth.

"The name of the deceased?" asked Bertha.

"Martha Garrison," Thomas replied, "38 years old. Strictly speaking...she is not from Mrs. Latton, but she lives around, and she is usually acquainted with Mrs. Latton."

Then it's no wonder she was so careless, maybe the old bustard would have to curse in private that it's very unlucky to die at her door.

At 38, she's not getting any younger, as evidenced by her haggard hair and bared teeth.

"39 knives."

Holmes quickly obtained useful information from the corpse: "Eight of the knives were accurately cut on the throat. This is definitely not a crime committed by the client in a hurry. The murderer came to Martha Garrison with only one purpose, and that was to kill her."

"Could it be a vendetta," Thomas wondered, "but who can a prostitute have such a big vendetta with?"

Bertha was silent.

She went up to look at it for a moment, and if Holmes hadn't pointed out the location of the throat, she could hardly have seen the specific part under the dead man's head—the throat was cut eight times, and Mrs. Latton's room was not the scene of the crime. The brutal persecution left the neck of the deceased shattered.

"The murderer was a man," concluded Bertha.

"Why do you say that, ma'am?" Thomas asked.

"Even the bones are marked by knife wounds," Bertha said to the wound that exposed the bones. "Women don't have such great strength."

Thomas whispered a word of God bless and made the sign of the cross over his chest like every Catholic would do.

interesting.

Bertha looked at Thomas' face and thought deeply: Although his face was ugly when facing the dead, he was still in a normal state, not at all pale like the lost soul when he returned from assisting Sherlock Holmes in the investigation.

So what Thomas was afraid of was not corpses and bloody scenes, so what made him react so strongly at that time?

Bertha silently put a question mark in her heart.

"Are there any policemen at the crime scene?" asked Bertha.

"Scotland Yard fenced off the crime scene," Thomas replied, "and left a small constable on guard, but it's outside, ma'am, they can't be around the clock. If you want to see it for yourself, I'll go to him." lead away."

"I'll take a look first."

Sherlock Holmes could not wait until night. The basic autopsy of the young detective had already been completed. He took off his gloves and said, "The victim died of excessive blood loss. She was definitely dead when the murderer cut her throat with the first knife. The remaining 38 knives are more like venting myself." Emotions."

"Is it such a big hatred?" Thomas couldn't help but ask.

"It's not necessarily a vendetta, although revenge may be the biggest motive," Holmes shook his head. "The murderer's throat-cutting method is quite skilled, and he has quite sufficient knowledge of anatomy. For this kind of professional, one knife is enough for revenge. One knife, one more possibility of leaving clues."

Also, where does a lowly whore go to court someone with adequate knowledge of anatomy?

Years of experience as a reporter made Bertha keenly aware of the problem.

Bertha pondered for a moment. Seeing that Holmes was about to say hello and leave, she suddenly stopped him: "Sherlock."

The young man suddenly stopped: "Do you have any additional clues, Mrs. Thames?"

"What I can confirm at the moment is that someone is spreading rumors about me in the Whitechapel area," Bertha said, "in an attempt to sow discord between me and Lambert Byrne, the leader of the White Pigeon Gang. Mrs. Latton happens to be Lambert Do you think this murder has something to do with someone secretly provoking gang relations in Whitechapel?"

Holmes, who was on the verge of walking away, turned around again at these words.

A bit of sharp emotion flashed in his eyes: "You suspect that the Truth Society is secretly looking for trouble for you."

Bertha: "Otherwise, I can't think of which force I have offended."

Holmes: "At present, you and I have no clues. I don't see any direct connection between this case and the Truth Society, but if we just assume that this case is related to the Truth Society, there is actually another way of thinking."

"how to say?"

"The symbols written on the walls of you and my brother have also appeared in widely read medical journals," Holmes replied calmly. "Have you ever thought, Mrs. Thames, that Martha Garrison was killed by skilled dissection techniques?" Professionals must have subscribed to this medical journal and saw the symbol of the Truth Society in the journal?"

Bertha was taken aback.

Putting it this way... It feels like there is a faint thread behind all the things that connect them together.