Chapter 515 - I Have A Few Questions To Ask You (1/2)

Chapter 515 I Have A Few Questions To Ask You

The East and West Ends were like two completely different worlds come nightfall.

Only one street lamp still glowed, and the rest were either broken or vandalized. Until now, no one took the initiative to repair them. Hence, a many spots were left dark and unlit. The low, squalid, dilapidated buildings, uneven roads, and dark alleys made navigating around the area an awful nightmare. After the Whitechapel serial killings, the police sent an entire battalion to strengthen waning security.

Up until now, Zhang Heng had come across two teams of very serious-looking police officers. They sternly held onto their batons while a whistle hung around their necks, ready to be blown at the earliest sign of trouble. No matter how many officers were deployed, making them patrol the area seemed to yield pointless results. They couldn’t keep their eyes on every street corner. More importantly, the police simply couldn’t maintain such intensive patrols for an extended period.

In fact, the police had increased their workforce when the second murder case surfaced. Thus far, they still hadn’t found any leads, and instead, a large number of low-level officers had started complaining about the dreary working hours and how they simply weren’t paid enough. Before the murders, patrol officers typically headed to the tavern for a cool-down and a pint amid their patrols. After the series of brutal killings, none were inclined to pull such stunts anymore.

Zhang Heng still wore the old coat he bought when he first arrived, and Irene had also given him the scarf she wore when she masqueraded as a gypsy busker. Coupled with his recently mastered makeup skills, few would doubt that he wasn’t from around here.

Zhang Heng first headed to the location of the most recent homicide. This particular spot had now become the focus of the police. Since residents inhabiting the area had done well to avoid the place at all costs, Zhang Heng could stand quietly behind the fence during the day without having anyone to bother him. During the day, he attempted to identify the soil using the method that Sherlock Holmes taught him. However, that provided him with little useful information because the entire East End’s infrastructure was in shambles. Puddles and mud smeared every inch of the road, and even if the murderer’s shoes were stained with dirt, it was no longer reliable evidence.

At night, Zhang Heng came here to look at the lights, curious to know if the nearby houses were lighted at that time. To avoid unnecessary trouble, he trod lightly, careful not to overstay his welcome. He quickly walked out from behind the apartment, and it was about then that he spotted a girl in her early twenties on the side of the road. She had an old coat draped over her shoulders, and she lugged around a wine bottle in her hand. When she saw Zhang Heng, she took the initiative, saying, “Hi?”

Zhang Heng raised his eyebrows, feeling amused, and flabbergasted.

“Exciting, isn’t it; I won’t let you down!” The girl’s smile seemed somewhat forced.

“Since you know about the recent tragedy here, you should have stayed home,” said Zhang Heng.

“I need to pay for rent and food. I just borrowed this half bottle of wine from someone,” replied the girl. Her English sounded like she wasn’t from this country, a heavy accent embedded among her words.

“No matter what happens in this world, we have to keep working, don’t we?”

“Well, at least stay in a crowded place, or with your companions, perhaps. You will feel safer.”

“This line of work is not as simple as you think it is. We, the prost.i.tutes, have our designated territories. I am just a foreigner who arrived here not too long ago. They will definitely not accept me,” the girl sadly related, “I can only linger in places they won’t go. Anyway, what are you thinking?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” said Zhang Heng lightly. “Know what kind of men come here at this hour?”