"The Widow" Bertha

Marco Esposito can't escape.

The materials of the Truth Society are in the hands of Bertha, and she has long kept the situation around the underground laboratory in mind.According to the escape route of the Italians, Bertha quickly ordered his troops to divide and outflank them, and soon drove them to a dead end.

When Marco Esposito rounded the last corner, what awaited him was the damp and cold stone walls of the underground sewer.

The pace of the pursuers behind him is getting closer and closer.

"Boss," said the Italian's steward, "we—"

"To shut up!"

Marco slapped the butler backhandedly.

Then he simply raised his hands, turned around, and chose to surrender to Bertha, who was approaching with a gun, and her boys.

Bertha sneered when she saw him raising his hand in surrender.

She faced the Italian far away: "No way, Marco, this joint, you killed so many of my subordinates, and you want to beg me to spare your life?"

"Everything is negotiated and agreed upon," Marco said, "This is the gang's way of doing things."

"is it?"

Bertha's muzzle was always pointed in the direction of Marco.

She turned her head sideways, her hoarse voice was deliberately elongated, and the slim figure of the Jamaican girl was indistinct in the darkness, making it hard to see clearly.

But no one would question the bitterness and anger in his tone.

"Two of my boys died at your hands, Marco, why do you think I will let you go?" Bertha asked coldly.

"I'll give you benefits in exchange."

Ma Ke raised his hand and replied directly: "Enough information can save my life."

Bertha: "Do you think I will let you go for intelligence clues? London is full of my eyeliner, what information can I not get?"

This is simply a cold joke. There are two networks of street thieves and coachmen. As long as there is something that can be said on the street, there is nothing that Bertha cannot know.

But Marco Esposito is quite confident.

"Information from the Society for Truth," he replied, "don't you want to know who that investor in Liverpool is, whose lover you surnamed Holmes couldn't find?"

Bertha's expression changed.

In the dim light, she stared at Marco Esposito for a long time, so long that she wanted to stare a hole out of him with her eyes.

"Think about it, Mrs. Thames," Marco said while the iron was hot. "You've been on him for so long and still don't know anything. I'm the only one who can give you a clue. You tell your men to put down their guns, and I I'll tell you."

"..."

Bertha took a deep breath.

"Put down the gun," she said to her friends.

"lady!"

A boy beside him reluctantly reminded, "Then...at least the Italians have to put down their guns."

Marco responded immediately: "No problem."

He shook the gun held high in his palm, then lowered his center of gravity in a cautious and intentional gesture, slowly placed the gun on the ground, and then kicked it away.

The bosses did it, and the rest of the Italians had to choose to do the same.

"Put down the gun," ordered Bertha again, "just put it away."

Mrs. Thames's boys put away their guns.

However, Marco asked again: "I want to talk to you alone."

Before Bertha could speak, she clearly felt that the boy beside her became nervous immediately.

—Nervous because they know that Bertha will probably agree.

"Okay," she said, "but I'm always loaded."

"no problem."

Marco didn't mind: "How about letting your people leave first and wait around the corner?"

Bertha: "That's it."

After receiving the order, the other subordinates had to turn around and leave.

Bertha and Marco Esposito were left in the cramped sewer dead end in an instant.

When the redundant people left completely, the Italian broke the silence first: "I'm going to get closer to you, ma'am."

Bertha said nothing.

She didn't object, and she didn't raise her gun, so Marco assumed that the other party acquiesced to her words.The Italian took long legs and finally chose to face Bertha face to face.

Even in a dim environment, such a short distance was enough for Bertha to see the other person's face clearly.

In all fairness, Marco Esposito is indeed not bad looking. He is still tall and handsome in middle age, but the thick browbones and deep facial features unique to the Mediterranean blood have aggravated his cruelty.

It looks like a ruthless character.

"Now you can say," Bertha said coldly, "Who is Liverpool's investor?"

"You and Holmes are still a step too late," Marco answered irrelevantly. "As early as when he started investigating the Truth Society, the investors had already decided to abandon them."

Bertha understood: her estimate was right.

"When Mycroft Holmes wiped out the Truth Society because of the Whitechapel massacre, he had already withdrawn its funds and wiped out all evidence," said Mark. "Of course you will find nothing."

"Then what does this have to do with you?"

"It's all about fishing for some oil and water," Marco said indifferently, "Just the laboratory on the bright side, I can sell it as a warehouse, and I can make a fortune."

"Come on."

Bertha sneered: "I don't believe that you have nothing to do with the Truth Society, otherwise how could I give these things to you."

Marco is also not polite: "Just those mystics who talk about gods and gods and pagans? Is there any ammunition that can be used? It's the guy from Liverpool who resold the remaining rubbish to us at a low price."

Bertha: "Why you? There are so many gangs in London."

Marco: "Who knows."

He really didn't seem to know, and he really didn't care.Marco spread his hands, and Italians always like to make various gestures when speaking: "It is said that the investor and Mazzini of the Young Italian Party met in the early years and helped a lot during the revolution. Who knows? In short, Acquaintances, so I handed things over to us."

Bertha: "..."

Mazzini of the Young Italian Party is probably Giuseppe Mazzini, one of the three heroes of the founding of Italy, and a well-known historical figure.

He lived in exile in London after the failure of the Young Italians uprising.

In this way... the Liverpool investor is still a big shot.

"I confessed him and exchanged him for political asylum," Marco said. "You don't lose anything, do you? It's just that a few of my subordinates died. How many people did you kill in this fire?"

"You tell me who it is first."

Bertha was indifferent: "The investor, what's his name?"

Marco: "James Moriarty."

Bertha froze immediately.

"It is said that he is a mathematics professor. It is not important. The important thing is that he is indeed related to many overseas activities," Marco said again. "If you catch him, the world will be mostly peaceful."

Moriarty.

Bertha never expected to hear his name at this moment, on the lips of the Italians, in the London sewers.

The famous villain in "The Cases of Sherlock Holmes", the old enemy of Sherlock Holmes, has been boasted by all fans and researchers for a hundred years, and has almost become another cultural symbol, James Moriarty.

The investor behind the Truth Society turned out to be Professor Moriarty!

When Marco said the name, Bertha felt that everything was so unbelievable, but it made sense after thinking about it.

It turned out that she never bypassed the big frame of "The Cases of Sherlock Holmes" when going around - the only difference is that what happened was not recorded in the book.

then--

Just as Bertha was in shock, Marco Esposito jumped at the chance.

Apparently the Italian was unwilling to let go of any possibility of getting out. When he realized that Bertha was distracted by his words, the thin and sharp man acted. .

When Bertha came to her senses, Marco had firmly grasped her right hand holding the gun.

The strength of the man was like a pair of pliers clamping Bertha's wrist. The intense pain brought Bertha back to her senses. Her dark golden eyes met Marco Esposito's brown eyes——

A cold light fell from his cuff.

Bertha's left hand immediately reached behind her waist.

Everything happened so fast.

——In retrospect, Bertha is still thankful that her many years of career as a professional reporter allowed her to develop an extremely quick response ability.

This ability not only allowed her to successfully avoid the slap of the congressman's wife, but also allowed her to avoid the fatal blow of the gang leader.

Marco's blade mercilessly struck towards Bertha's main artery, she almost reflexively leaned back, and the man's dagger barely missed the vitals.

Bertha didn't even feel the pain, but after a few seconds, she felt the warm blood running down her neck and wet the collar of her shirt.

And Marco Esposito—

The Italian's pupils shrank.

There was a painful whimper in his throat, but it was difficult to make a sound.

Bertha holds a Damascus knife, the blade of which has sunk deep into Marco Esposito's abdomen.

Again, Bertha is still thankful for her many years of career as a professional reporter.

This made her deeply understand in many disputes that where the knife should be stabbed is the most fatal.

The pain of a cut in the neck finally came long overdue.

"You don't really think I'll let you go, do you?" she laughed.

But that's okay, Bertha wins anyway, she dodges a blow to the artery, but Marco doesn't.

Bertha leaned close to the Italian's ear and said in a low voice: "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, this is the way of revenge for you Sicilians, isn't it?"

After she finished speaking, she spun the blade and lifted it up suddenly.

Marco groaned.

"You've actually succeeded, Marco," she said. "You want blood on my hands, and you've done it now—but you did it first."

Bertha drew back the knife abruptly.

She watched coldly as the Italian fell to the ground clutching his wound, and the blood couldn't stop gushing from his wound.

"Oh, right."

Sheathing the sharp blade, Bertha tilted her head, a bright smile appeared on her honey-colored skin, she nodded her lips, and spoke intimately.

"Thank you for the information."

***

It was already dawn when we walked out of the underground sewer.

Bertha didn't choose to turn back to join Thomas, but took a few boys around her and left through the nearest exit.

The wound on her neck had stopped bleeding, and the dark brown blood stained half of her clothes, and the young people who followed her didn't see much better.

All scarred and exhausted, yet relieved.

The rising sun dispelled London's iconic thick fog, and walked out of the underground waterway, which is the banks of the Thames.

Bertha raised her head, and what fell into her eyes was the light yellow light of the skyline and the sparkling water. Even if the current Thames River is seriously polluted, it is still beautiful.

And most pleasing to Bertha...

It was a man standing not far away.

Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, with a tall and straight figure, the gentleman's arm holding the silver cane paused slightly when he touched Bertha's figure, but finally chose to politely take off his hat.

Mycroft Holmes smiled.

"Good day, Bertha," said he, "I've come to fetch you home."