SGB Chapter 285

## Chapter 285: A Curious Journey (5K4)

**The East End of London, Tower Hamlets, Whitechapel.**

The Martin Tavern was bustling with business as usual. Perhaps because of the booming trade, Martin, the tavern owner, had recently acquired the neighboring grocery store and meticulously renovated the tavern.

Now, the former counterfeit merchant could proudly thump his chest and announce to everyone that the Martin Tavern was the most vibrant landmark in Brick Lane.

Unfortunately, the patrons of the Martin Tavern never cared about the interior design. They only knew that Martin’s beer was not only plentiful but also cheap. Those who cared about the decor wouldn’t stoop to a slum tavern filled with brick dust and slaughterhouse waste to gulp down a few pints of horse piss.

But as the saying goes, there’s a bird for every tree. The Martin Tavern attracted not only streetwalkers but also an owl, who was originally a bird of prey but actually a herbivore.

In the evening, Mr. Owl pushed open the tavern door, setting off the wind chimes hanging above it. With a melodious tinkle, Mr. Owl raised his hat slightly with his finger and said softly, “Mr. Martin, I always thought you were a rough and tough English bloke. Didn’t expect you to be interested in these little trinkets.”

Seeing Arthur, Martin greeted him with a smile, “Mr. Hastings, where would I have the time for these knick-knacks? Just keeping track of the accounts is enough to give me a headache. This wind chime was Anne’s idea. It’s cheap, and it can alert us when a customer enters. So I bought it.”

Arthur took off his hat and fanned himself. Looking at the noisy crowd and two busy waiters, he leaned against an empty table and chatted casually with Martin, “Where’s Anne today? Let me guess, you found her a good family and finally got this big girl married?”

Martin shook his head with a smile, “If only it were that simple. Anne, that little rascal, isn’t that lucky. But recently, some rogue has been after her, sweet-talking her. She almost got tricked by that damn scoundrel. If I hadn’t caught it in time, she might be pregnant and crying for my help right now.”

Arthur said, “No way? Anne seems pretty sharp. She hangs out with the thugs all day, hasn’t she figured out those scumbags’ true nature?”

Martin sighed, “Mr. Hastings, you don’t understand. Girls are like that. When they haven’t fallen for someone, they’re smarter than anyone. But once they’re charmed, even if you chain them up, it won’t do much.

I’ve seen too many women like this in the East End. They’ve never seen the world, and a few words, a bottle of wine, or a pretty dress can fool them. After half a year or a year, when the guy gets bored, he kicks them into the gutter.

If the woman has a conscience, she’ll spend the rest of her life raising a wild child she doesn’t know whose it is, doing odd jobs like washing clothes to make a living.

If she doesn’t have a conscience, it’s even worse. Mr. Hastings, you must know that every now and then, they pull out a few dead babies from the Thames, and the mouths of those infants in the poorhouse are basically all from this.

Sigh… My God! Open your eyes and see what kind of mess this is! I can’t control other people’s nieces, but my niece can’t shoulder these sins that should be sent to hell.

She must marry a decent, honest man. If she dares to elope with that smooth-talking rogue, she’ll never set foot in my tavern again. Let whoever fathered her child take responsibility. Martin’s money isn’t for any shameless fellow to spend.”

By this point, Martin’s face was red with anger. It was obvious he was furious about Anne’s near-lapse in morals.

Arthur could only comfort him, “Mr. Martin, you don’t need to be so angry. Didn’t Anne already apologize to you? People make mistakes when they’re young. As long as they haven’t really done anything wrong, it’s over and done with.”

Martin just sighed helplessly, “You don’t know. The girl just apologized to me, but I can tell she’s not convinced. She thinks I’m just scaring her. She doesn’t believe what I said. Sigh… Forget it. I’ve said what I needed to say. If she insists on living a miserable life, let her be. I guarantee, if she hooks up with that rogue, in two or three years, she’ll become a yellow-faced hag with dry hair, rough skin, and a bucket waist. Does she think it’s that easy to find someone to live with? Does she think she’s going to marry into some big house and become a Countess?”

Arthur pondered for a moment, “Although I don’t know if the guy who’s after Anne is really that bad, if his character is truly deplorable, Mr. Martin, don’t forget, you still have a friend here.”

Martin, upon hearing this, was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed, “Mr. Hastings, I didn’t expect you to bother with such a trivial matter. How can I ever thank you? Damn! It’s an honor to be friends with you! What would you like to eat today? I’ll have the kitchen prepare it for you right away.”

As he spoke, Martin couldn’t help but shout to the kitchen, “Anne! Anne! Mr. Hastings is here, get the grape pudding and tomato meatloaf ready, Mr. Hastings’ favorites!”

Martin shouted for a long time, but there was no response. He slapped his forehead and muttered, “That little girl must be slacking off. She probably got lost in the Penny House when she went to deliver wine. Mr. Hastings, don’t worry, I’ll go get her.”

Arthur didn’t mind the slow service. He wasn’t here for food and drink. He was more interested in the Penny House Martin mentioned.

“What’s a Penny House?”

“You don’t know about Penny Houses?”

Martin explained with a smile, “Well, it’s understandable that you don’t. It hasn’t been around for that long, and it’s mainly for girls’ entertainment. My big, strong male customers wouldn’t be willing to spend a penny to listen to a few songs. With that money, they’d rather have a couple more pints of full-bodied ale.”

As he spoke, Martin pointed to a room behind the tavern separated from the main hall by a blue cloth curtain, “See that room? That’s the Penny House I reserved for the girls. For a penny, they can get a whole night of entertainment.

Although our program isn’t as elegant and upscale as a regular theater, or as thrilling as the shows in the small theaters on the south bank of the Thames, our Martin Tavern Penny House isn’t without its merits.

Our singer here is absolutely top-notch in the East End. You won’t find anyone who can sing better than him. From six to ten, as long as the beer keeps flowing, he can sing for four hours straight without stopping. And we have our dwarf performer here. You know how hard it is to jump through a ring of fire back and forth? Especially in the narrow space of the Penny House, it’s not easy.”

Hearing Martin’s interesting introduction, Arthur couldn’t help but feel curious about the Penny House.

He took out a coin from his pocket, flicked it with his fingernail and it landed in Martin’s hand, then he got up and said, “My guests haven’t arrived yet. I hope the Penny House can provide some amusement for my boring wait.”

“Mr. Hastings, how can I take your money?”

Martin wanted to give the penny back to Arthur without hesitation, but Arthur pushed his hand away, “Mr. Martin, making money through business is your God-given right. Besides, this penny is just a starter compared to my upcoming expenses. Take it.”

With that, Arthur strode towards the Penny House.

He lifted the deep blue curtain of the room, and the scene of this secret sanctuary within the tavern was instantly revealed to him.

Perhaps the stingy Mr. Martin was afraid someone would peek at the Penny House show from outside, so the room had no windows. The only light source was two kerosene lamps swaying on the ceiling.

Under the dim, yellowish, and somewhat warm light, the room was filled with smoke. Arthur sniffed the air in the room and quickly determined that it was a compound smell of beer, tobacco, and various cheap perfumes.

Although the smell wasn’t pleasant, compared to the stench of sweat and vomit that the drunks in the main hall exuded, Arthur felt it wasn’t bad.

He surveyed the scene and layout of the room. The stage was quite simple, with two curtains made of floral cloth. Even the stage itself was made of a few wooden beer crates.

On this stage, which could only fit four adults standing side by side, sat a wandering singer holding a bagpipe. His hair was a little messy, and his shirt was bleached white, but that didn’t stop him from rolling up his sleeves, puffing out his cheeks, and getting ready to make a show. The reason was simple: this was his territory.

The audience, sitting or standing below, were indeed, as Martin described, a group of young girls in their teens and twenties. The mixed smell of perfume, tobacco, and beer that Arthur had smelled earlier was coming from them.

Perhaps because the room was too small, or perhaps because Martin was unwilling to spend too much on tables, there was only one large round table in the room, used for the girls to place their beer mugs and plates.

As a well-known detective in Scotland Yard, Arthur could easily analyze their profession, experience, and past from their dress and spending habits.

Those leaning against the wall listening to the songs were mostly laundresses with rough fingers, wearing patched black dresses and headscarves. Their income wasn’t great, and spending a penny on entertainment for a night was already considered a luxury, so naturally, they weren’t willing to order more drinks or a few pieces of bread and half a sausage.

Those with plates in their hands, eating delicately, as if afraid of swallowing their slender, white fingers, were maids and governesses. Their income was slightly better than that of laundresses, and they also had accommodation provided by their employers, so they naturally had more money on hand. Occasional extravagance was perfectly acceptable for them.

Those sitting around the round table, sipping their beer in the manner of the upper class, taking a puff of their slender ladies’ pipes from time to time, exhaling thick, undissolving smoke, were a group of beautiful ladies wearing various stylish wide-brimmed hats.

As for their identities, naturally, there was no need to say more. After all, there were only so many industries that ladies could work in these days. In just a short while, Arthur had spotted several girls he had seen around Fiona.

The girls seemed to notice someone looking at them. They turned their heads and met Arthur’s gaze. Several of them were stunned for a moment, then recognized Arthur.

Arthur, seeing this, had no choice but to take off his hat and nod slightly as a greeting, apologetically.

However, the girls’ reactions to Arthur’s greeting were different. Some smiled and greeted him back, some pulled their companions aside and giggled, and some winked at him maliciously, seemingly waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Just as Arthur was wondering why, he suddenly heard the wandering singer singing on the stage.

“I’m a wanderer. Last summer, I heard that the Manchester railway was open.

After collecting horse manure for three months, I stole two geese from the village. Finally, I was qualified to be a first-class passenger.

I boarded the train with a nervous heart. The train whistle blew a booming sound, steam swept across the platform, blowing the ladies’ long skirts wide open.

From then on, I finally understood why bees love colorful flowers. Because they are yellow, white, red, purple, they are colorful, they are dazzling.

I beat on the window, shouted at them, whistled at them. I shouted: Madam, please stand there obediently, I, the bee, am about to come and collect honey!”

The wandering singer’s singing instantly brought a burst of laughter from the ladies in the tavern. They clinked their glasses together, gulping down the beer in their cups.

Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol, or perhaps it was the need to relieve the pressure of life, girls kept shouting to the wandering singer, “Edward, did you collect honey for a whole week? Your singing isn’t as loud as last week!”

Edward, the wandering singer, was not to be outdone. He shouted to the audience, “You lot, shut up! It’s just the beginning! I’m warning you, don’t flood the house so quickly! Are you trying to make the smell in here worse?”

However, his shouting was just another joke in the eyes of the audience. After all, interacting with the singer was part of the entertainment in the Penny House.

“Edward, go to hell! I’ll tell you, you can’t make much money by showing off your tongue all night. Selling your ass is definitely faster than singing!”

Anyone who saw this scene would inevitably question life. Everyone would wonder where all the delicate ladies on the streets and alleys of London had gone.

Martin, who followed closely behind Arthur, couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. He scratched his head and said, “Mr. Hastings, why don’t you go to the private room upstairs? Actually, it’s not always like this in my Penny House. It’s just a coincidence today. Of course, our show is still no match for the musicals you usually listen to.”

Martin thought that even if Arthur wasn’t angry, he would be embarrassed.

Unexpectedly, Arthur just took out his matchbox, lit a match, leaned against the door, and smoked, “The song is actually okay, it’s quite down-to-earth. And I’ve been listening to sermons, prayers, and hymns in Scotland Yard all day, and I’m a bit overwhelmed. Now, listening to bees collecting honey is a good way to clear my head. Otherwise, I’ll be too serious, I won’t be able to talk business with my guests later.”

“Talk business?”

Martin was startled. He pondered for a moment and suddenly seemed to understand something. He smiled and said, “Mr. Hastings, if I may, you should go to the West End to do business if you want to. The girls in the East End are simply not a match for you, and it’s not safe or confidential here. It’s easy to get into trouble later.”

As he spoke, Martin rushed to the counter, rummaged under the counter for a while, took out a tattered little book, and then walked to Arthur, handing it to him mysteriously.

“What’s this?”

Martin looked around, then lowered his voice, “Don’t ask so many questions. This is good stuff. It’s definitely crucial for a newbie like you.”

Arthur lowered his head and opened the cover, which was so faded that he couldn’t make out the specific words. He saw a title written in a flamboyant script on the title page: “Bernie Harrison’s Wonderful Journey Ranking.”

As soon as Arthur saw the title, he immediately remembered a similar one in the list of banned publications in Scotland Yard. If he wasn’t mistaken, the name of that banned publication was “Harris’ Covent Garden Brothel Ranking.”

Speaking of this magazine, its history was quite long. As a yearbook that first launched in 1760, it sold over 250,000 copies in over thirty years before it was forced to cease publication in 1794 due to the strong crackdown by Parliament.

Although “Harris’ Covent Garden Brothel Ranking” was no longer being updated, similar underground publications appeared every now and then. No matter how hard Scotland Yard tried, there were always some that slipped through the net.

However, the one Martin gave to Arthur was particularly interesting, as the name Bernie Harrison was too impressive for him.

Arthur thought about it and finally kept the magazine in his pocket without showing any reaction. Then, he gave Martin an encouraging look, “Mr. Martin, next time you have something good like this, remember to keep it for me. I need it, and I’m sure my guest who’s about to arrive will need it too.”

Martin laughed and asked, “Really? Is your guest a newbie too?”

Arthur just smiled and shook his head, “I don’t know, but I guess he shouldn’t be a newbie.”

Martin was curious, “Why do you say that?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Simple. Because he’s French, and he’s from Paris. Although London is pretty bad right now, as far as I know, London is still a step behind Paris.”

“Ah…”

Martin suddenly understood. He then laughed loudly, “No wonder you’re a police inspector. You really are thoughtful.”

(End of Chapter)