## Chapter 91: What Did You Touch?
The girl, holding an umbrella, clung to Arthur’s arm, guiding him through the narrow, crowded streets.
Although this wasn’t Arthur’s first time in such a place, the pungent smell still made him wrinkle his nose in disgust.
St. Giles’ parish, though equally filthy, was at least a former wealthy district. Even with its dilapidated state, some buildings and road layouts still hinted at its past glory.
But the Tower Hamlets district was a different beast. It was a place where the foundations were never laid properly. The roads were made of a mixture of mud and garbage, the alleys reeked of a chilling dampness, and even the brick dust seemed soaked in moisture, making it damp and sticky.
Despite some basic drainage ditches built alongside the houses, they were often clogged due to lack of maintenance. Black, rotten garbage piled up in corners, emitting a stench so potent that a single whiff could make one dizzy.
However, this wasn’t entirely the fault of the residents of the East End. After all, it was difficult to avoid such a foul environment when a district housed docks, shipbuilding, brewing, slaughterhouses, and leather tanning, which required the use of urine for tanning.
Perhaps sensing Arthur’s slow pace, the girl thought he was suspicious and quickly reassured him.
“Sir, you probably haven’t been here before, have you? I also want to find a clean inn, but there are very few of those around here. People like us usually take our clients to our own rented rooms. If you don’t believe me, you can search around. If you find an inn, I’ll consider this deal done, and I won’t charge you a single penny.”
On this point, the girl was telling the truth.
Finding an inn in the East End of London was indeed a difficult task. This was mainly because two hundred years ago, this area was nothing more than a stretch of fields adjacent to London.
The Colbrook family, who held the land rights, treated the area as an estate and sold off small plots of land, eventually leasing them out in strips.
These leases ranged from decades to a few years.
Countless makeshift, cramped houses were built on these narrow plots. There was no concept of urban planning, and no thought was given to leaving space for public buildings or roads.
Perhaps those innkeepers who were obsessed with money would squeeze out extra space for a few more stools from the already narrow streets.
Therefore, it was no wonder that buildings like inns, which required a large footprint, were scarce.
To put it in a positive light, the architectural layout of the East End was like an artist’s spontaneous burst of inspiration.
To put it bluntly, it was a testament to humanity’s definition of “anti-humanity.”
Under the girl’s guidance, Arthur passed through two narrow, dark alleys and arrived at a cluster of densely packed blue-roofed terraced houses built of red brick.
They were crammed together, the windows on the red brick walls were so close together that they resembled two pieces of cheese violently squeezed together by a maniac.
Besides that, what impressed Arthur most was its unique structure. Perhaps because it was located at the junction of three narrow streets, the house was designed as a triangle.
The protruding part of the triangle was a rusty red door. Behind it lay a narrow staircase that could only accommodate one person.
And to maximize utilization, a locked compartment was crammed under the stairs. Judging from the dirty footprints on the floor, which were still covered in some cotton fluff, the tenant here probably worked in a nearby textile factory.
The girl’s room was on the second floor, facing the inside. Arthur followed the girl into the room and scanned the surroundings. The environment was better than he had imagined.
A clean, tidy double bed, a well-lit window, a teapot and cookware on a small round table, and a wardrobe against the wall.
The abundance of everyday life confirmed Arthur’s suspicions that this was indeed the girl’s residence. Perhaps this was also the reason why she specifically targeted foreign sailors.
Foreign sailors were unfamiliar with the area and most wouldn’t stay in London for long. Even if they were cheated, there wouldn’t be much trouble.
But if she targeted local sailors, they would have to weigh the possible consequences.
Everyone knew that most sailors who ran merchant ships were not exactly saints.
Some of them chose to make a living at sea not just for the sake of their wages, but also because they had some unspeakable secrets and couldn’t stay in their hometowns.
And the records of major crimes in Scotland Yard corroborated this view. The Ratcliff Highway serial killings that took place in the East End of London in 1811 were suspected to be the work of a sailor.
At the time, the local magistrate was almost attacked by an angry mob because the case remained unsolved for a long time. To deal with these agitated members of the public, the magistrate ordered the arrest of a suspect.
In Arthur’s opinion, however, the suspect might not have been the real killer.
He never confessed to his crimes but inexplicably chose to hang himself in prison.
But the dead could not speak, and the murders didn’t continue after that, so the magistrate claimed he had committed suicide and deliberately paraded his body on a cart through the streets.
Angry and superstitious people, to prevent the killer from resurrecting, climbed onto the cart and nailed an iron nail to his chest.
Arthur was getting used to such plots.
That was the way of the world at that time: wild with a touch of civilization.
You could say it was unjust, because a trial had been conducted.
You could say it was about the law, but the case was full of a strange sense of mystery.
If you examined it closely, it was like a black comedy with a touch of absurdity, a blend of tragic and comical.
Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, puffing on his pipe and blowing out a smoke ring.
He was pondering over the cases he had seen before, and when he came back to his senses, he realized that the girl had somehow already taken off her long skirt, revealing her white thighs and tight corset.
The girl, noticing his hesitation, leaned against him with a smile.
“What’s wrong? Are all the men from India as reserved as you? I haven’t been to India, but I’ve heard sailors say that it’s full of wool, spices, and tea.
A lot of young masters from wealthy families in the country go to the East India Company for a few years and come back as rich men. Your father must have been one of them, right? Why did you become a sailor?”
Arthur continued smoking and asked, “You are different from most ladies. Most ladies know about beautiful dresses and makeup, but you know about India.”
The girl was flattered by Arthur’s compliment and smiled, reaching into Arthur’s coat.
“To tell you the truth, I was born in Cambridgeshire. When I came to London from the countryside a few months ago, there was a studious Cambridge student on the same carriage as me. His father used to be an employee of the East India Company, and I heard all this from him.”
Arthur looked down at the girl’s hand reaching into his coat and shook his head slightly, sighing. “I told you not to touch my things, and not to put your hand in my coat, otherwise you might touch something you shouldn’t.”
The girl thought Arthur was flirting with her, and her eyes were full of smiles. “You men are always like that. Let me feel what it is that I shouldn’t touch. I’ll guess…it must be…”
Suddenly, her hand touched something cold and hard in the inner pocket of the coat.
The smile on the girl’s face froze, and she carefully examined the object.
A moment later, her gaze towards Arthur was filled with a mixture of panic and fear.
She had already figured out what it was. Although this thing was not common, it was usually accompanied by death whenever it appeared.
“You…you…”
The girl’s smile was gone, and even her voice trembled. “What do you want, I can give you anything, I won’t even take the money for this deal, just please don’t kill me.”
Arthur took a puff of his pipe and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. Even his voice became normal.
“Don’t be afraid, lady. I have no intention of harming you. Just treat me like any other customer. I don’t understand your rules, so I want to ask, how far have we gone? Are you going to scream now, or do we need to go through the motions?”
Thanks to Shiri and Zui Xihuan Lingyi for their generous support. Currently, I owe 2 chapters of patron bonus chapters and 1 chapter from yesterday’s overdue update, totaling 3 chapters.
(End of Chapter)