SGB Chapter 54

TL Note: Please Disable AdBlocker. If you don't want ads, Join Patreon to read 10(for $5) and 20 (for $10) advance Chapters. Please go to Patreon

chapter 54

Arthur stepped out of Old Fagin’s house, gazing at the muddy street before him. His mind was still replaying the key words mentioned by Old Fagin: Funeral Mutual Aid Society.

According to Old Fagin, these funeral mutual aid societies were quite popular among the poor in London. Though the British Isles had entered the age of industrialization, many traditional customs had not disappeared with the passing of the Middle Ages. Funerals, as important ceremonies in both Christian and British culture, still held a significant and unique place in the hearts of many.

In the parish of St. Giles, every poor family had an unspoken rule: they would save three pence each week for the father, two pence for the mother, and one pence for each child. However, this money was not used to improve their lives, but rather to prepare for their death.

In the traditional British view, no matter how poor or destitute a person was in life, they should have a decent and grand funeral, for this might be the only shred of dignity they could ever experience.

Thinking about this, Arthur felt a sense of familiarity mixed with sadness. Due to cultural differences, he often struggled to understand certain customs here. However, the emphasis on posthumous honor reminded him of the land he had dreamt of countless times.

Only now did he understand why the elderly were so insistent on considering their funeral arrangements before their death. Only those who had endured a lifetime of hardship could truly grasp the meaning of this ceremony. Perhaps it was old-fashioned, but it was also a testament to their existence, a final trace of their presence in the world.

“Arthur?” Inspector Tom called softly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Arthur rekindled his extinguished pipe and asked, “Are these funeral mutual aid societies common among the poor in London?”

Tom, holding Adam in one arm and scratching his head with the other, replied, “I guess so. My wife has mentioned them too. Besides funeral mutual aid societies, there are also medical aid societies, women’s reading societies, textile workers’ support societies, and a whole bunch of other associations, some of which I can’t even name.”

Tony frowned, “What kind of associations are these? Are they like the London Correspondence Society and the Sheffield Constitutional Knowledge Society, those Jacobin radical organizations?”

Tom quickly waved his hand in denial, “No, no, they’re just simple mutual aid societies. For example, the women’s reading society is an association where ladies gather together to read and study. Each member pays a few pence a week, which allows them to borrow books free of charge from their library. If a member falls ill and is unable to work, the society provides her with some financial support until she recovers.

And medical aid societies are where families who can’t afford a doctor pool their money to hire a long-term doctor to serve each member. Of course, the membership fee is calculated based on the number of people in the family, so more people means more fees. It’s a solution that the poor came up with when they had no other choice. They’re not organized Jacobin groups.”

Arthur took a puff from his pipe, “Even if they were, it doesn’t matter. After all, freedom of association is now allowed. We can just keep a close eye on them. As long as they don’t cause another big story like the Cato Street Conspiracy in 1820, where they plotted to assassinate members of the Cabinet, then we’ll turn a blind eye. After all, I don’t want to hear the sound of the army marching again in London. It’s not good for either side. If one day there are mutual aid organizations everywhere in London, both inside and outside the city, I believe the world will be a better place, at least better than it is now. By then, maybe we, the Scotland Yard police, won’t have to carry our clubs around all day, and I’ll be able to buy a cheap one-penny newspaper.”

Tony heard this and shook his head with a sneer, “Arthur, you’re dreaming too big. I don’t expect them to sell me a one-penny newspaper. I just hope that street vendors will stop spitting at us when they see us wearing police uniforms.”

Dickens took out the notes he had made during his conversation with Old Fagin, reading them repeatedly while asking, “According to Mr. Fagin, someone around here is taking in homeless people and then using them to defraud funeral benefits?”

Arthur nodded slightly, “While that’s what he said, if you think about it carefully, it doesn’t make sense. Or rather, it doesn’t explain all the disappearances. Based on the data we have so far, the missing people aren’t just homeless children and frail women, but also many healthy, middle-aged homeless men. Moreover, many of them were recently released from prison. I specifically went to Scotland Yard and the Home Office a few days ago to check their criminal records. Some of them were charged with violent crimes. It wouldn’t be easy for those who want to profit from death to make these people willingly go to their deaths.”

Tony pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked with a dark expression, “Arthur, are you saying that old geezer isn’t telling us the truth? I’m going back to see him!”

Before Tony could take a step, Arthur stopped him.

“He probably told us everything he could. It’s just that what he said isn’t what we want to hear. The situation of defrauding funeral benefits by killing family members probably exists, but at least it hasn’t happened on a large scale yet. Otherwise, the first to report it wouldn’t be the Duke of Sussex, but the other families who joined the funeral aid society. After all, if a stranger’s family just joined the society and then started dying in large numbers, any normal person would find it suspicious.”

Arthur flipped through the missing persons list in his hand. He said, “While I was talking to Mr. Fagin, I re-categorized the missing person data I had, and it revealed a very interesting issue.”

Tony quickly asked, “What issue?”

Arthur said, “The disappearance times of healthy adult males have been fairly evenly distributed, while the disappearance rates of women, middle-aged men, and homeless children have been steadily increasing in the past two months. According to the Duke of Sussex’s report, only nine women have gone missing in the past six months, but six of them have disappeared in the last two months. The number of missing middle-aged men and homeless children has also surged in these past two months. Don’t you think that’s interesting? What does it tell us?”

The Red Devil, hearing this, suddenly covered his mouth and chuckled, “Oh! My dear Arthur, I didn’t expect you to catch on so quickly.”

Dickens was stunned for a moment, but he quickly understood, “Arthur, are you saying that the missing person case involves more than one case?”

Arthur took a deep drag from his pipe, “No, it’s not that it involves more than one case, but that it probably involves more than one type of case.”

(End of Chapter)

If you want to support, please consider joining Patreon. Go to patreon.com/fantasystories797 20 Advance Chapters are available for Patreons Join Discord

Leave a Comment