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 a hard sound came out. He was different from those 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 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 leave, "Hey, don't leave in a hurry, we still have something to consult you."

The bartender understood as soon as he heard it. It turned out that he was here to get information. No wonder he gave such a large tip. He naively thought he had met a generous lady.

But for the sake of the pound, he immediately put on an eager smile, "Please go ahead."

Holmes gestured and said, "I want to ask you about a person named Harris Booth. He should have appeared nearby recently. He is not tall, has a slightly fat face and a pale complexion, and has short flaxen curly hair. He likes to run to the Moulin Rouge."

The bartender smiled bitterly after hearing this.

"Ma'am, there are at least 90 people like you in East London, especially those who love to go to the Moulin Rouge. It's inappropriate for you to ask here. We don't do this kind of business in the Black Crow Bar."

The female detective pondered for a moment and took out a large-denomination banknote, "If I want to entrust you Black Crow to help find clues about this person, how much information fee do I need to pay?"

"I have to ask the boss about this matter. Please wait a moment--"

Bang!

The door of the Black Crow Bar was violently pushed open, and the glass door panel trembled and almost shattered. The noisy bar immediately quieted down, and the two security guards outside the door had fainted on the ground.

A group of guys wearing newspaper boy-like peaked caps, suits, vests and windbreakers, who looked very fashionable but exuded a strong smell of alcohol, broke in.

One of the leading muscular guys yelled:

"Old Bach, where the hell have you been, hurry up and bring me some wine."

When the bartender named Old Bach saw this man, his face immediately darkened and he rushed forward and yelled: "Fuck! Arthur, you idiot, the Black Crow Bar is not a place for you to make trouble!"

Arthur looked at the old bartender who kept yelling in front of him, and his red eyes, which were congested by alcohol, narrowed slightly into a slit.

He slapped him hard, giving Old Bach a loud slap on the face.

"You are such a low-class thing, how dare you talk to me like this!!!"

Poor bartender Bach was old and weak, and after being hit by this solid slap, even his long-lost teeth broke out, and the whole person fell on the spot and knocked over the table of the innocent drinkers who were watching the show, and then fell to the ground and fainted.

Arthur laughed out loud when he saw how powerful his slap was.

He suddenly turned his head to look at the table in the corner, where a beautiful lady who seemed to be emitting a dazzling light was sitting.

He walked over with a shaky step and smiled frivolously:

"Hey, what a beautiful girl, come over and have a few drinks with Master Arthur."