"The Widow" Bertha

The banquet had been proposed by Mr. Hamp, the mill owner.

As the host, his motivation was very simple: he just wanted to please Marco Esposito and Mrs. Thames, but what Mr. Hamp did not expect was that Mrs. Thames would bring her male companion to attend.

A man and a woman walked in gracefully. Mrs. Thames had black hair and red lips, and her delicate face was sharp and bright against the red-brown dress; while the gentleman she was holding was tall and straight, dressed in a beige formal suit, but with the same The color of the tie matches the clothing of the female partner, and they look like a pair of decent, upper-class people, and they match very well.

"Lady Thames!"

Mr. Hamp greeted him: "This is?"

"Ah, let me introduce you, Mike, this is Mr. Hamp, the host of tonight's banquet," Mrs. Thames said. "Mr. Hamp, this is Mr. Mycroft Holmes, my...friend."

Who brings "friends" to a private dinner?Mr. Hamp immediately understood the relationship between the two.

only……

Mr. Hamp glanced worriedly at Marco Esposito's position.

Everyone knows that the Italians showed favor to Mrs. Thames, but now Mrs. Thames not only does not appreciate it, but instead brings a lover over by herself?Mr. Hamp couldn't help but began to worry about what to do if Marco turned his face at the dinner table.

Bertha did not care about that.

She is not a fool, still can't figure out why the Italians are present?This is a grand feast, and if Bertha didn't make up her mind to disgust the other party, she wouldn't have appeared at all.

Of course, such a move might also disgust Mycroft.

At the factory owner's banquet, all the guests were gang members. If it weren't for Bertha, the dignified Mr. Holmes would definitely not be "reduced to this point".

But Mycroft not only didn't care, on the contrary he looked like he was enjoying it.

The two people were very close to each other at the dinner table, and Mycroft dutifully played the role of "lover", never leaving Bertha's eyes from the beginning to the end, and from time to time leaned closer to whisper some private words to her.

Mr. Hamp worried that Marco Esposito would turn his back on him, but he didn't.

The Italian sat directly opposite Bertha, with an attitude of indifference. After Bertha was amused by his beau's whisper for the third time, he seized the gap in the exchange and said in a deep voice: "Madam, I hope I will give you You can like those clothes."

——So, this is a Hongmen Banquet.

The matter of delivering clothes was already personal enough, and he had to speak publicly at the dining table after delivering the clothes, even though Bertha brought her lover and didn't stop him.

If that wasn't malice, Bertha really didn't know how.

But she just put down the knife and fork, picked up the wine glass, and said nonchalantly: "I also hope that the woman I gave you will be liked by you, sir."

It seemed indifferent, but he refused to give up a word.

The Italian just smiled darkly: "Don't worry, the one my wife gave me, I have to hold her in my palm like a princess and queen."

It's just that when he spoke at the end, the word "hold in the palm" was subtly accentuated, more like a threat than a promise.

But Bertha would not take that.

He threatened her, wouldn't she threaten to go back?So Mrs. Thames just smiled: "Yes, Katie is very popular, you have to take care of her for me, or the men in the whole Whitechapel District will hate you, Mark."

"That's natural." Marco replied coldly.

The dining table fell into a brief silence.

The atmosphere gradually became tense, and Mycroft, who was sitting beside Bertha, turned his head sideways, and then put on an expression of sudden realization.

"So," he said slowly, "this is the gentleman who delivered the clothes."

Marco Esposito's eyes turned immediately to Mycroft.

This is the first time the two men have made eye contact since everyone sat at the dining table.

The Italian raised his chin provocatively: "What's the problem?"

Mycroft smiled: "It's just fun."

Bertha raised her eyebrows: "Interesting?"

Mycroft explained very seriously and patiently: "Giving a lady's clothing as a gift with a lot of fanfare is not the way to court a lady. It doesn't sound like you want to marry her as a wife, but rather like a rush— —”

"What's the hurry?"

Marco interrupted Mycroft coldly.

He dropped the spoon in his hand, and the cutlery collided with the plate to make a "clang" sound, which made everyone at the table tremble.The Italian leaned back on his chair, showing his murderous look.

"What does that have to do with you, huh?" Marco asked.

Mycroft was completely unmoved.

The straight and neat gentleman just put down the tableware in his hand gracefully.

He even wiped the corners of his mouth that were not stained with any stains with a veil, and without raising his head, he still maintained that unshakable gentle tone: "Before you make threats, sir, it's best to see who is threatening, isn't it?" ?”

Ma Ke said with a gloomy face, "Then I invite this gentleman to come forward."

Mycroft glanced sideways at Bertha.

The Jamaican girl sitting next to him was just holding a glass of wine with a half-smile. Her hair was still coiled up today, but she deliberately left a few strands of embellishment on her forehead. Shades golden pupils.

Neither clearing the siege, nor flustered, it is clearly the appearance of watching a good show.

——Who wouldn't enjoy two men arguing for themselves?

Although she knew there was something in Mycroft's words, and she definitely didn't speak rashly out of jealousy, Bertha still looked forward to how he would respond.

And Holmes never disappoints.

The Italians invite someone to report their names—it can be described as a full-fledged gang style. If the other party’s answer is not enough to deter him, or not satisfy him, Marco Esposito and his family at the dinner table will definitely come first. For a moment, he took out a gun from his waist.

However, facing such a threat, Mycroft still had a polite smile on his face.

"Smith & Wesson 11.43mm Schofield revolver."

He spat out these words politely.

"Scotland Yard is investigating that the bullet that killed the strange creature in the underground waterway came from this gun model."

As Mycroft said, he finally raised his gaze, and met Marco's unabashed murderous gaze frankly.

"The British army and police do not use this type of gun, and there have been no recorded guns entering the country in the past six months. Therefore, the guns used to kill strange creatures can only be smuggled," Mycroft said. He added as if he suddenly remembered something, "It just happens to be the same model as the gun you are going to take out now, sir."

After finishing speaking, he smiled: "Just now when the bullet was loaded, the sound was very loud, it could only be the revolver. But next time you point a gun at the other party under the table, it's better to take it out and load it, otherwise the gun will misfire... It will be troublesome. "

The last sentence fell to the ground, and the whole room could hear the breath.

Mycroft did not wait for Marco's response, but turned to Mr. Hamp: "Sir, you'd better check the underground waterway of your factory. Why would someone go to the underground waterway with a gun, and it happened to be near the murder scene... this Very doubtful."

Marco Esposito's face changed and changed.

Although Mycroft did not report his origin, his words hinted that the Italians wandered the underground waterway with guns and killed strange underground creatures, and even said in a roundabout way that Marco ordered the killing.

After a few words, the banquet that was originally intended to please the two gang leaders was a strange one.

After Mr. Hamp wiped his cold sweat and sent Mrs. Thames and her lover away first, Marco Esposito, who was sitting beside him with a gloomy face, waved: "Bruno."

The butler of the Italian family stepped forward: "What's the matter, sir?"

Marco: "Check this person."

He gritted his teeth and said, "What exactly is it?"

***

But Bertha who walked out of Mr. Hamp's house was very happy.

After watching such a good show, how can you not be happy?

Mycroft personally opened the carriage door for Bertha. After the two got into the carriage and took their seats, the carriage slowly left towards the factory owner's residential area.

In the dim environment, Bertha curled her lips, "What do you seem to be in a hurry for?"

——Before Mycroft said that Marco's act of sending clothes didn't look like he wanted to marry her as his wife, and then the Italian interrupted himself.

Mycroft picked up his cane, and said frankly, "It looks like an animal in the month."

"uh-huh?"

"Show the beautiful tail to the female, and rush to court, but don't realize that it also shows the ugly butt at the same time."

When he said this, Mycroft still had a faint smile on his face: "What the Esposito family needs is the Whitechapel District. Marco wants to marry and do such a thing that insults your innocence. What you want to achieve is simply the opposite."

"You suspect he has another purpose?"

"I have to think about it that way."

"Maybe you're thinking too much, Mike." Bertha laughed.

"Oh?"

Mycroft turned his head in surprise: "I'm all ears."

The other party became serious, but Bertha still said lazily: "Not all men are gentlemen. The Italians just see me as a woman, and they already regard the Whitechapel area as their own, and they don't care about it."

"So it is," Mycroft nodded seriously, "Thank you for the compliment, Bertha."

"..."

She said that not all men are gentlemanly, meaning that Marco is a jerk, but in other words, Bertha only has Mycroft in front of her, so it is no problem to understand that he is more gentlemanly than Marco.

Why didn't I find you so thick-skinned, Bertha laughed to herself.

But after the joke, Mycroft returned to the topic: "The questioning at the dinner table was not that I maliciously slandered the other party. I did suspect the Italians. At least the gun belonged to them, and Marco Esposito's reaction was not right."

"You're wrong," Bertha said viciously, "meaning he didn't shoot you right away?"

"of course."

Mycroft answered Bertha's teasing seriously: "The Sicilians count every penny. If my accusation insults their reputation, it is not only me, my brother, my parents, even you, Bertha, There is no escape from retaliation. But he did not do so, which confirmed my speculation was correct."

In other words, Italians have a high probability of being involved in homicides.

Bertha thought for a while: "So, the night the Irish went on strike and made trouble, the Italians intervened definitely more than simply interfering with business."

They are probably aimed at suppressing the Irish and preventing them from digging out the truth.

If Miss Morstan hadn't found Bertha by chance, I really can't say what would have happened.

"You...be careful," Bertha frowned slightly, "You messed up the Italian's business today, and if he doesn't retaliate publicly, it doesn't mean he won't trouble you in private."

"I'm more afraid of him doing to you, Bertha."

"Ok?"

Mycroft made no immediate explanation.

The carriage swayed slightly as it moved forward, and the room was dim, but the two sat facing each other, with a distance of no more than [-] centimeters. Bertha's skirt touched the man's knee from time to time.

Lines of sight intertwine, silence spreads, and a subtle atmosphere changes in the narrow room.

The man just leaned forward a little, and reached the distance of raising his hand to touch.His broad palms rested on the top of Bertha's cheeks, and straightened her hair that was deliberately hanging on her forehead.

There was no skin contact at all, but so, so close, Bertha could still feel the man's heat faintly lingering on her forehead.

"You sent that girl from the red-light district there," he whispered, "do you feel bad about it?"

"..."

Bertha's eyes twinkled.

She didn't answer, but had already given Mycroft the answer.

"I know you don't care about that alone, Bertha," said he, "but because it's a beginning, like opening the sluices of a dam, and once it starts, it never stops."

"What are you going to say next?"

Bertha's tone was frivolous, as if she was joking, but her words were not too harsh: "It's rare for your younger brother to give words of encouragement, saying that I have done a good job."

Mycroft couldn't help laughing: "I don't think it's enough, Bertha."

Bertha: "Why not enough?"

He looked at her.

"On the ruins of South Bank Street, you told me yourself that you had your eye on the Whitechapel district," Mycroft said calmly, "You should be ready then."

As he spoke, his palm moved down, and finally stopped on top of the back of Bertha's hand.

The two never had contact.

"Even if you weren't ready then," he said, "the blood of Reverend Brian White is supposed to prepare you."

"Actually, he didn't bleed much."

Bertha twitched the corners of her mouth as if mocking herself: "He looks like he can't even smear the ground with blood."

Mycroft pursed his lips unhappily.

Then he spoke again: "That's what the Italians want to do to you, Bertha, into the same cesspool."

Mrs. Thames prides herself on being noble, unlike those gangsters who have tried their best - Bertha doesn't really think so, she just wants to walk in the gray area as much as possible, so that she can go ashore in the future.

After all, washing white and going ashore, changing from black to white is something that every gang dreams of succeeding.

But when she does this, other forces will always look down upon her.

Apparently Marco Esposito was one of them.

Bertha looked into Mycroft's eyes. "What if they succeed and I step in?"

Mycroft met Bertha's gaze gravely.

"Then," he said, "I have many ways of getting you out."

The Mycroft who said this was calm and frank, with a solemn expression on his face that always held a gentlemanly template.

Bertha didn't speak, she just slightly hooked the corners of her mouth, but her slightly downturned eyes revealed her true emotions.

This faint emotion also made Mycroft unobtrusively relax.

He noticed it, but Bertha didn't put this emotion into action. The two just kept looking at each other, and neither of them spoke.

—God knows how much she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him because of this sentence.

***

And Mycroft was never wrong in guessing.

Three days later, when Bertha came to the office, Thomas and Ned greeted her solemnly.

"lady."

Ned handed over the letter, and Bertha looked down. It was still an Italian letter, and Mark could write it in that arrogant hand. He also prepared a big gift for Mrs. Thames and invited her to come to the textile factory. .

The great gift this time was that he discovered several traitors for Mrs. Thames.