Chapter 19 Black Crow Bar
As soon as they left the molting club, the female detective asked anxiously, "Watson, did you bring a weapon with you?"
Watson patted his ribs, and there was a hard sound. He was different from the laymen behind him. Even if he carried a gun, it was well hidden, like an ordinary person without any weapons.
"Well, give me one. I know you must have two guns." Holmes shouted excitedly, "Victor, let's go to the Black Crow Bar in East London first."
Victor looked embarrassed, "Miss, it's too dangerous to go to East London so late! If something happens, how can I explain to the master."
Holmes sat in his seat with a big horse and a golden knife, and took the revolver handed over by Watson.
"Don't worry about it. If you are really afraid of something happening, send us there quickly. You know better than me how bad the security in East London is after midnight."
Victor sighed awkwardly, and the wrinkles on his old face piled up, but he could only hurry on his way.
Compared to the enthusiastic female detective, her assistant seemed a little too calm, even indifferent, just leaning back against the inner wall of the carriage, sitting slightly up and down with the bumpy carriage.
Holmes glanced at the assistant's left arm, which was still in plaster, and said, "Watson, you are still disabled. If there is a dispute later, you will hide behind me and I will cover you."
The female detective patted her full chest with great enthusiasm.
Watson smiled faintly, "Okay, I will be responsible for following behind and covering you."
With Victor's reluctance, the carriage quickly drove to the desolate East London area.
The air here is more dirty and turbid than in the city. Private workshops of all sizes are like a group of dead beasts lurking in a low steel jungle, spewing out charred breath to the sky, and even the soil on the road seems to be stained with a layer of black.
The carriage passed a forging workshop that was still working at night, and a large number of hot sparks splashed out, startling the horse to scream repeatedly.
Victor stopped in front of a bar at a crossroads.
The bar looked quite spacious. There was no sign on the top of the door, but mottled words painted with white paint on the glass window. It was vaguely recognizable that it was "Black Crow Bar". Watson noticed that the bar seemed to have a secret door leading to a narrow alley next to it, which was obviously used to escape in case of an emergency.
At this moment, the night had already fallen completely, and the bar seemed to be full of customers, and the noisy atmosphere overflowed to the street outside.
"The Black Crow Bar is an asset of the Black Crow Gang and the most lively bar for civilians in the nearby blocks."
Holmes explained to Watson: "The Black Crow Gang is a newly emerged gang in the past two years. It is extremely powerful. It is said that the leaders behind the scenes are a pair of siblings. They are not as reckless as the brutal villains of other gangs. They are more gentle to civilians. At the beginning of the bar, they set a rule: no one is allowed to cause trouble here!"
"At the beginning, other hostile gangs often came to provoke trouble, but with the iron-blooded counterattack of the Black Crow, several nearby streets The gangs in the area gradually accepted this rule, and the Black Crow Bar gradually evolved into a "safe haven" for East London gangs! "
"Although East London is a mixed bag, the Black Crow Bar is relatively safe, and all kinds of people come and go, and the news is extremely well-informed. We should be able to find out about Harris here."
Watson realized that the importance of this bar to gang members is like the importance of the inn in martial arts novels to the heroes of the rivers and lakes. It is a hub for information and transportation for people from all walks of life. However, why does the history of the Black Crow Bar sound so much like the Victorian version of the Peace Hotel?
Holmes pushed open the creaking glass door, and immediately a complex smell of cheap rouge perfume, cheap cigarettes and alcohol processed by the stomach hit him in the face.
The bar suddenly fell into a kind of dull silence, and the eyes of the drinkers were focused on this tall beauty. There were surprises, doubts, envy and jealousy, and undisguised lust in their eyes...
Holmes walked to a small round table in the corner with a fierce momentum, put his hands on the table, and smiled without question.
"Gentlemen, can you show your gentlemanly character and make room for me, a weak woman?"
The two working-class men with thick coal dust on their clothes looked at each other, laughed and clinked their cups, stood up tacitly to wipe off the light dust on the chair, and slid their right palms across their chests to meet the chair, and bowed in a slightly funny way.
"Please!"*2
"Hahaha, thank you very much."
The female detective burst into a clear and crisp laughter like a silver bell and waved to her assistant.
As soon as Watson sat down, he immediately felt several sharp eyes like knives cast on him, as if to cut him into pieces.
Holmes waved his hand towards the bar and shouted, "Bartender, two beers!"
According to the rules of the Black Crow Bar, you have to pay first before you get the beer, but the bartender with a mustache was happy to make an exception for this heroic lady. He immediately poured two large glasses of foamy and slightly turbid liquid from the barrel behind him and brought them to the table of the female detective and her assistant.
"Thank you, and have a drink too."
Holmes put out a few one-pound coins. In Great Britain, the so-called buying a drink for the bartender is actually a euphemistic tip.
The bartender took it with a smile, "This lady is really beautiful and generous!"
Holmes stopped the bartender who was about to retreat, "Hey, don't leave in a hurry, we still have some things we want to consult with you."
The bartender knew immediately upon hearing this that he was here to get information. No wonder he tipped so much. He naively thought he had met a generous lady.
But for the sake of the pound, he immediately put on an eager smile and said, "Please tell me."
Holmes said and gestured, "I want to ask you about a person named Harris Boot. He should have appeared nearby recently. He is not tall, has a fat face and is pale. He has short flaxen curly hair. He likes Run to the Moulin Rouge."
The bartender smiled bitterly after hearing this.
"Madam, there are probably 90 to 100 people like you in East London, especially those who like to go to the Moulin Rouge. It is really inappropriate for you to come here to ask. We at the Black Crow Bar do not do this business. of."
The female detective pondered for a moment, then took out a large-denomination bill, "Then if I want to entrust you, Black Crow, to help find clues about this person, how much information fee will I need to pay?"
"I have to ask the boss about this, please wait a moment -"
boom!
The door of the Black Crow Bar was violently pushed open, and the glass door panel trembled and almost shattered. The noisy bar immediately fell silent, while the two security guards outside the door had passed out and fell to the ground.
A group of guys wearing newsboy-like peaked caps, suits, vests and windbreakers, extremely fashionable in appearance but exuding a strong smell of alcohol broke in.
One of the leading muscular guys cursed and yelled:
"Old Bach, where the hell did your kid go? Hurry up and get the wine."
When the bartender named Old Bach saw this person, his face immediately darkened, and he rushed forward and cursed: "Fake! Arthur, you stupid pig, the Black Crow Bar is not a place for you to cause trouble!"
Arthur looked at the old bartender who kept yelling and cursing in front of him, and his red eyes, which were bloodshot due to the alcohol, narrowed slightly into a thin slit.
He suddenly slapped the old Bach in the face with a loud slap.
"You damn dirty thing, how dare you talk to me like that!!!"
Poor bartender Bach was old and frail. After receiving this hard slap, even his big teeth that had been loose for a long time broke out. His whole body even fell out and knocked over innocent drinkers watching the theater. The table fell to the ground and passed out.
Seeing how powerful his slap was, Arthur laughed out loud.
He suddenly turned his head and looked at the table in the corner, where a beautiful lady who seemed to be emitting dazzling light was sitting.
He walked over with shaky steps and smiled frivolously:
"Hey, what a beautiful girl, come here and have a few drinks with Uncle Arthur."