The ride from 221B to Limehouse was taken in silence. Morbidity had settled on us both and no doubt we shared the same fond recollections of poor Nikipoo as many of his acquaintances would that night. The journey took us down the Strand where an abundance of black memorial ribbons stood out starkly against the advertizing posters in the Savoy's foyer. Figures fleetingly appeared then disappeared in the swirling mist, silent apparitions ensconced in the oppressive silence.
The Tower came and went, St, Catherine's Dock sensed rather than observed and then the steady trot down the Highway before turning into Narrow Street.
"Stop at the 'Grapes' cabby!"
I decided that a stiff brandy was the best solution to our immediate emotional needs and also wished to ascertain any pertinent happenings in the vicinity. The 'Grapes' was quiet enough on the surface but had known its percentage of strange cargo passing through the rear windows overhanging the great pool. Twice I had good reason to believe that my great nemesis had disposed of bodies exactly that way and had every reason to expect the landlord's full cooperation in lieu of my continued discretion.
"Two large Brandies please and a pint of porter for the cabbie beyond."
I laid a golden sovereign on the counter and as Charlie attempted to retrieve it covered the glinting metal with my right palm.
"Surely our debt is square Mr. H."
I fixed Charles Dawson with my eyes and simply smiled.
"The Professor doesn't take kindly to our arrangement continuing."
I knew the mention of the devil himself would rouse John to distraction.
"Calm yourself John; we are just a quiet drink in convivial company."
"Mr. H. I really have been keeping very steady, not one single illicit dealing in many a month."
I smiled serenely and let him garrote himself.
"Not like down the road in Chinatown. Lots of troubles there I hear."
I winked admiringly and too late Charlie realized the hook was fast in his lip.
"Gercha! You're Old Nick himself Mr. H. I swear."
"In for a penny in for a pound Charlie, only in this case another nice shiny guinea would seem more appropriate."
Charlie bit into the coin not so much as to test the nature but more as a reminder to all present he was no mans fool. The two coins slid into his waistcoat pocket to clink against the very resplendent time piece already ensconced.
"Far too many new faces in Limehouse these days Mr. H. Lots of very young faces if you follow my drift."
Watson and I exchanged glances that needed little vocal explanation.
'The Professors not happy bout it either. Says it's queering the pitch so to speaks."
"Damnably strange sentiment from a man who chucks the ball consistently!"
I was beginning to worry that Watson's hot head would get the better. Charlie had started to eye the snug for possible backup incase of altercation.
'Excuse the good Doctor Charlie he is inclined to see everything from a sporting skew."
"I cannot speak for the Professors sportsmanship sir, but he is decidedly against whatever is occurring."
The statement was made loudly alerting me at once to the fact we were being eavesdropped. The dirty mirror behind the bar gave an excellent view of the area behind and I quickly noted the two or three possible lieutenants.
"Youngsters you say Charlie, how young we talking?
"Teenagers Mr. H, not long out of their mothers care and still with them pigtails down their backs."
He attempted to elucidate but I had heard enough. Opium was vice enough for these cobbled streets, human trafficking was quite beyond the pale. I tossed him another guinea for good measure and drained the last drop of brandy against the cold of the night.
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The junction with Three Colt Street marked the end of the rule of Empire. From there to till the happy reemergence of civilization at West India Dock the Imperial Chop held sway. A virtual no go area at night even the peelers from Westferry Police Station ventured here sparingly and then never alone. During the day the residents serviced the East and West Ends laundry needs economically and efficiently. At night the restaurants and brothels vied for trade with the contagious opium dens spreading to almost every basement. I knew the street well, had eaten, fucked and smoked here too often. John on the other hand was a comparative virgin soul with not enough vice to fill a thimble.
"Seems quiet enough."
Watson's absurdity was followed by the distinct sound of breaking bones as a body hit the cobblestones perhaps two yards to our left. The mound of rags moaned for a few seconds then fell silent. The window above slammed shut in distain.
"Don't bother yourself John the wretch is beyond our help."
The stairs that descended to Lui Pi's establishment were slippery from the combined encrustation of the multitude of humanity that had traversed in anonymity that evening. Carefully avoiding the more obvious flotsam we descended to be confronted by a heavy paneled door. Three knocks bought a questioning face to the peephole and we were admitted.
"It is always an honor to see you sir."
Lui Pi had the manners of a courtier carefully concealing the devilish machinations of a mass murderer.
"How may this humble unworthy be of service to such fine gentlemen?"
I had become familiar with the groveling tone that custom insisted but was not so naive as to consider for one moment any genuine wish to assist was forthcoming.
"We have come to collect one of our friends who I believe may be enjoying your fare."
"It is so difficult to keep track of all my clients. They come, they stay then leave, always with discretion."
"Hopefully in general from the door Lui Pi as opposed to an upstairs window."
