"The Widow" Bertha

"I am Lady Thames of Whitechapel, let your chief speak to me himself."

Bertha's words made the two groups of people fall into silence. Whether they were Irish or Italians, their expressions of surprise were beyond words—how could it be Mrs. Thames?

And the one who was most shocked was Miss Mary Morstan who was hiding on the side.

The red-haired Irish girl stared wide-eyed: "Mrs. Thames?!"

"of course!"

"I can't catch" Jack, who has been holding back the words, finally feels elated.He proudly puffed out his small chest: "Miss Marple is a lady with an upper-class status. She can't see that you have made no progress, so she intervened in her own name!"

Holmes raised his eyebrows: "In fact, the progress of her case and I are very close." Even without Miss Marple, Sherlock Holmes had already broken into the morgue of the hospital.

Jack immediately added: "It's the credit of two people."

And Miss Morstan couldn't help covering her mouth.

In Whitechapel, very few people except Thames actually saw Mrs Thames.That's why many people think that "Mrs. Thames" is just a gimmick put up by Thomas Thames for revenge, so as to show that he has a new and mysterious backer.

Even Dawson, the leader of the Irish workmen, went to the pub in South Bank Street and saw nothing but a skirt.

It was said that even Inspector Lestrade had never seen her!It was always Thomas who acted on his behalf.

And now Miss Morstan knew that Mrs. Thames not only existed, but she was right in front of her eyes. Bertha Marple was the real owner of Thames & Co.!

"Our wife revealed this secret for you Irish people," Jack muttered, "I don't know if it's worth it."

—Whether it's worth it or not, Bertha doesn't really care.

A large part of the reason she stood up was because she didn't want to use the identity of "Miss Marple" anymore.

At the beginning, it was just her playing tricks on her own, but now that the person who met "Miss Marple" should be damned, and should be recruited by Mycroft, so there is no need to keep it.

From Bertha's point of view, there was nothing wrong with Inspector Lestrade, except that he was a little sorry for Inspector Lestrade, and let him thank himself while being played around by his own people.

"I want to see Marco Esposito."

Bertha said coldly again and emphasized: "The Irish people who gathered to make trouble come from the Whitechapel area, and I will naturally take care of this matter."

The Italians with guns looked at each other.

They looked at each other for a few moments, discussed in Italian in a low voice, and then said, "Come here alone."

"no!"

Upon hearing this, Miss Morstan and Sherlock Holmes rushed forward together.

The red-haired girl insisted: "Our people must follow, this is a request from the gang leader."

Bertha curled her lips: "I don't make things difficult for you, I'll take three of you, how about it?"

Mrs. Thames took the initiative to give the steps, and the Italian looked better.The leading gunman muttered a few words, and then chose to give in: "Only three people."

Nabertha naturally chose to bring Holmes, Miss Morstan, and the Irish youth Dawson who took the lead in smashing the door.

She leaned over and patted "Can't Catch" Jack on the shoulder, and met the little boy's anxious face: "I don't take you because you have an important task, so go back and tell Thomas about it, and inform him that I'm fine, understand?" ?”

Jack still wanted to follow, but Mrs. Thames personally gave the order, and the boy nodded reluctantly: "Okay."

Then he pouted exaggeratedly at the Italian, and ran away in a hurry.

Bertha gave Dawson another time to arrange for the Irish, and when the population on the street outside the textile factory basically had a place to go tonight, Bertha looked up at the impatient Italian again: "Lead the way."

***

The Italian gangs in London are small in scale and belong to the Mafia Esposito family in name, but in fact they can only be regarded as one of the branches of the Italian Mafia family.

But even one of the branches is not to be underestimated.

They took Bertha and others directly to Marco Esposito's residence.

The Italian chief lived in a fairly decent apartment, and the housekeeper even politely invited people in, but stopped everyone except Bertha from the living room, and asked them to rest in the side hall for a while.

"How can this work!!"

Dawson couldn't hold back at first: "This is our business!"

"Sorry, sir," said the butler indifferently, "Master Marco only wants to see Mrs. Thames."

"you--"

"Dawson."

Bertha stopped the Irish youth who wanted to get angry: "I will go alone."

If Bertha hadn't used the title of "Mrs. Thames", even if the Irish wanted to negotiate, the Italians would not have given them this opportunity-otherwise, they would not have appeared on the streets of the textile factory with guns.

Showing up with a semi-automatic rifle certainly doesn't make sense.

The butler smiled gratefully at Bertha: "Please, madam."

Bertha closed her eyes.

She simply tied her long hair behind her head in a bun, and the fine hair still hung on both sides of her gorgeous cheeks.Such a hairstyle is indeed somewhat personal, but Bertha's three-piece suit that belongs to a man well neutralizes the ambiguity.

When Bertha entered the drawing room, the man standing in front of the fireplace turned around.

This is Marco Esposito himself, whom Bertha regards as not to be trifled with.

The man was also wearing a neat suit, which was obviously changed for the midnight visitor.Marco Esposito looks about forty, and has a Mediterranean appearance that he will never admit wrong when walking on the street: thick brows, sharp nasal bones and profound facial features, even if he doesn't speak a word, there is a bit of it Aggressive meaning.

His eyes stayed on Bertha's strict men's clothing for a moment, and then he asked, "Whiskey?"

Bertha smiled: "It's too late, it's not appropriate."

Marco tilted his head: "It's a pity."

After speaking, he added: "Do you mind if I have a drink alone?"

Bertha: "Please."

Then the man nodded and walked towards his wine cabinet.

For a while, the room was extremely silent, except for the "crackling" sound of the flame in the fireplace from time to time, and then the sound of the liquid slowly rolling into the glass after the Italian opened the whiskey bottle.

It was the other party who finally broke the silence.

Marco held a whiskey glass in one hand: "Your taste is quite good, ma'am. The suit is from a South Bank Street tailor?"

"nature."

"The style suits you, but the tailor himself is not of very good origin."

He took a sip of his wine, and then the deep voice sounded again: "Even if you hand over the pattern to him personally, and the ready-made clothes are made, you still can't get rid of the smell of tailor's muddy legs. If you don't mind, maybe I can recommend a reliable one for you." Spectrum shop."

"Thank you," said Bertha indifferently, "but I think the smell of mud legs is also good."

She straightened the neckline of her suit: "It depends on who wears the clothes, doesn't it?"

Bertha is tall and thin, and she is a woman who fully conforms to the British aesthetics of the nineteenth century—tall, fierce, with a sense of presence that cannot be ignored from her appearance to her aura.Really good for unisex outfits.

In this regard, even if the other party was a Victorian aborigine, he did not express any objection.

"Of course," Ma Ke said happily, "Madam is better off."

Bertha laughed dryly, but did not respond.

How could she not understand the subtext of the other party?

It’s nothing more than ridiculing that there is no need to stand up for the Irish. Mrs. Thames made her fortune in the slums. Even though she has two street gangs, she still wanders in the Whitechapel area. People around her, even tailors, naturally It's "mud legs".

Bertha retorted that even in the slums, not everyone can sit firmly on the ground, and the other party responded that she was "born well"-insinuating that she was not poor but made her fortune in the slums.

"I don't understand, ma'am."

Seeing that Bertha was silent, the other party held the wine glass casually, and continued: "It is not easy to gain a firm foothold in the Whitechapel, especially Thames' two shots were tricky. There are rules for people in the world, and one of the rules is not to move the police. , you have broken the rules in order to bring down the White Pigeon Gang, but you said to my people, you meddling in the affairs of the Irish is out of rules?"

"Scotland Yard came to me first, it had nothing to do with gangs."

"But helping the Irish has to do with the gangs," Mark smiled. "How many times have you helped them? This is the second time, ma'am, wolves don't know how to feed them. The third and fourth times." , and they will not submit to you."

"Irish on strike, why gang-related?"

Bertha didn't answer the question: "Especially you."

Marco: "There is my factory on that street."

No wonder.

It turned out that this guy was also working on the idea of ​​laundering and going ashore. This is indeed the goal that all gang members dream of achieving, even if the other party relies on the background of the Italian Mafia.

"It turned out to be a businessman."

Bertha smiled when she heard the words: "In this case, why not communicate in the way of a businessman, sir. Why bother to greet each other with a gun?"

Marco: "Looks like you're determined to stand up for the Irish."

Bertha: "No matter how complicated the internal forces in the Whitechapel District are, that is our own business. Otherwise, there are so many respectable 'businessmen' around, why haven't they merged many muddy legs who can't even afford to eat into their own territory? ?”

The implication is that no matter how well backed and well-equipped you are, you haven’t knocked down the Whitechapel territory, so don’t look down on anyone.

"Justice is all the Irish want."

Bertha talked eloquently: "Since your factory and the textile factory are on the same street, the factory owners must know each other. Why don't you be a lobbyist and ask the textile factory to open, and I hired professional detectives to investigate the case. Not only will it give the Irish people an explanation, but it will also reassure the textile mills, otherwise, if this trouble continues, no one will be able to start work."

In the final analysis, it was nothing more than Marco felt that the Irish went on strike and caused trouble, which indirectly affected his factory.

That being the case, it is better for him to act as a favor and "persuade" the owner of the textile factory to solve the case and everything will be fine.

In this way, the Irish get the result they want, the textile factory can resume work, and Marco's factory is also unaffected, and everything will be fine.

As for how to persuade the textile factory to open... Isn't it easy for a mafia.

Bertha prided herself on being very reasonable, and all three parties were satisfied with what Marco said.

However, when her persuasion came to fruition, the Italian gave her a cold smile.

"lady."

He shook his head and sighed with a smile.The man brought the whiskey glass to his mouth again: "Thank you for thinking of me, I thank you on behalf of Esposito, but why should I do this?"

"If the troublesome Irishmen are dealt with, my factory can still operate," he said. "As for the case you mentioned, and whether the textile factory can operate normally, what does it matter to me?"

——Kill all the people, and his troubles can still be solved.

The smiling and polite Italian continued: "The reason why my people didn't pull the trigger on the street is because you stood in front of the Irish."

After speaking, he sat back by the fireplace again.

"Then," Marco said, "since you asked me to help, I'll assume you choose to trust me."

"so?"

"A gift from someone you trust," he said, "you should accept it."

Is there such a gift-giving attitude?

Of course Bertha knew that he was referring to the "gifts" that the little accountant was jealous of.

How did this guy send it out, and how did she return it.Naturally, it doesn't look good in face, and he has to get it back.

"No, sir."

The threat from the other party was obvious, but Bertha remained indifferent. She just smiled and said, "I'm also a legal businessman. Why are you giving me so many guns? Business is business, so it's best not to get involved."

"Am I dissatisfied with you, ma'am?"

Ma Ke pretended to be surprised: "I'm ugly? Or is my family property not enough?"

"You are naturally handsome, and your family is well-off," Bertha shrugged off, "I am not worthy. There are good women in London everywhere, why bother to keep an eye on me?"

"A good woman in London always wants her man to retire as soon as possible and wash his hands," Marco sneered, "to lead a safe life with children. I don't need such a woman, I need you. "

"What am I like?"

"Can help me with some business."

"That's a pity, sir."

Bertha smiled sweetly: "The man I want has similar standards to yours, at least he can help me at work. You see, the conditions for choosing a mate are in conflict—"

In the middle of speaking, the bright smile quickly disappeared.

The Jamaican girl in a suit is not swayed by the threat of the other party.She turned her head sideways, folded her arms, and then said coldly: "If you think the business can't be negotiated, then forget it. The Whitechapel area is poor, but the ambition is not short. We don't have much money, the only strength is More people can always solve the problem.”

The translation is, you don’t want to come forward, but if you dare to touch the Irish, not only will they make trouble for you, but other forces in the slums will also come to make trouble for you.

The Esposito family is powerful, so let's see if they will feel distressed and soft after many troubles come to their door.

Bertha is equivalent to counter-threatening to go back.

For a while, the reception room fell into silence again, and the implied tension was no less than the previous confrontation in the textile factory.

After a long time, the Italian sitting on the sofa burst out laughing.

He put down his glass and stood up.

"Mrs. Thames wants to discuss business with me, why should I not agree?"

As he spoke, he clapped his hands and raised his voice, "Bruno!"

The butler came in in response: "Sir."

The Italian put his hands on his shoulders: "Let the textile factory open to investigate, remember."

He grinned.

"It's all about Lady Thames."