The Lion's Courtship: An Anna Kronberg Mystery (25 page)

The man’s gaze flickered a little. ‘I met people like you at Harvard, Mr Holmes. Brilliant men who need the constant stimulation of the brain and who see little else than their work. Your brain is running in circles when not put to hard work, and boredom is your greatest torture.’
 

Mr Holmes was rooted to the spot, his eyes unfocused, and behind them, his mind was racing.

‘I have seen these men using cocaine when nothing is at hand to tickle their intellectual powers. What about you, Mr Holmes?’ His gaze sharp now, his eyes met mine. I nodded and smiled. ‘It doesn’t help much, does it? Is it the cello that can put some order into that occasionally too-chaotic brain of yours?’
 

I pointed to his left hand.

‘No,’ I decided aloud, ‘for the cello wants to be embraced. You prefer the violin — she can be held at a distance.’
 

He gazed at the faint calluses on the fingertips of his left hand, marks produced by pressing down strings.
 

‘You are a passionate man and you can hide that well. But do you really believe that outsmarting everyone around you is an accomplishment?’
 

His expression was controlled and neutral, but his pupils were dilated to the maximum, betraying his shock.
 

I rose to my feet, took a step forward, and put my face close to his. ‘It feels as though a stranger ripped off all your clothes, doesn’t it?’ I said softly. ‘Don’t you dare dig into my brain or private life again.’ I tipped my hat, turned away, and left him in the grass.

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Extras (making-of, historical background, and more)

Acknowledgements

The murders in Whitechapel inspired some parts of this story, most of all Mr Steward, whose real name we’ll, of course, never know. Many thanks to Stephen P. Ryder from
The Casebook
,
as well as all contributors to the largest Jack the Ripper online resource.

I owe several characters to John Thomson and Adolphe Smith, who photographed and interviewed the people populating London’s streets in the 1870s.

Scotty the Crawler and her friend (whom I named Betty in this book) lived and perished in St Giles under extreme poverty.
 

Baylis, a former policeman, did indeed own the cook-shop at Drury Lane, which was open to convicts and street arabs alike, and everyone else too poor to afford a meal, such as Ramo Sammy, who also appears in this book.

The hardships these people had to endure, and the compassion they practised, inspired me to try to bring them back to life.

Excerpts from
Street Life in London
, by John Thomson and Adolphe Smith (1876 to 1877, public domain):

‘…among the
poor he met
with
that charity
which
the
poor
mor
e
than
any other
class
extend one
towards the other.’

The Crawlers

Huddled
togeth
e
r
on
th
e
workhouse steps
in
Short's
Gard
e
ns tho
se
wrecks of
humanity
,
the Crawlers of St. Gil
es's,
may
be seen both
day
and
ni
g
ht
seeking
mutual
warmth and
mutual consolation
in
th
ei
r
extreme
mis
e
ry.
As a
rul
e
, they
are
o
ld
women
reduced by
vice and
poverty to that de
g
r
ee
of wretchedness
which d
es
troys
e
ven the
e
nergy to b
eg
. Th
ey
have not th
e s
tr
e
ngth to
struggle
for bread,
and prefer
s
tarvation to the
activity
which
a
n
ordinary
m
e
ndicant must display natural cons
e
qu
e
nc
e,
th
ey
cannot obtain
mon
ey
for
a
lodging
or
for
what
littl
e
charity th
ey
receive
is more fr
e
qu
e
ntly derived
from
the lowest
orders.
They b
eg
from b
egga
rs
,
and
th
e e
nergetic, prosperous mend
ica
nt is in his turn
called
upon to
g
iv
e
to those
who are
his inf
e
riors in th
e "p
rofession.
"
Stale
br
ead,
h
a
lf-us
ed
tea-leaves, and on gala days,
the
fly-blown
bone
of a
joint,
are
th
e
ir
principal
items
of
di
e
t. A
broken
ju
g,
or a tea-pot without
spout or
handle
,
constitutes
the
domestic
crock
e
ry. In this th
e
stale tea-l
eaves,
or, perhaps,
if
one of
th
e
company
ha
s s
ucc
eeded
in be
gg
in
g
a
penny
,
a
h
a
lfpenny-worth
of
new t
e
a is car
ef
ully
placed;
then
o
n
e
of
the
women
ris
es
and
crawls
slowly towards
Drur
y
L
a
n
e
,
wher
e
th
e
r
e
i
s a
coff
ee
-shop
k
ee
p
e
r
a
nd
a
l
so
a
publican who take
co
mp
ass
i
o
n
on
th
e
se wome
n
, a
nd
supp
l
y
th
e
m
g
ratuitously with boilin
g
wa
t
e
r.

A Convicts’ Home

For fourt
ee
n
years
he (Baylis) has taken delight in
se
rvin
g
th
e
wretched people around
him; but, rememb
e
ring his own past
experience
,
his
ge
n
e
rosity i
s
unbound
ed
towards the pal
e-
faced street arabs who with hun
g
ry
eyes
fr
e
quently
thron
g a
bout his door. His thoughts are
constantly
occupi
e
d with th
e
fat
e
of
th
ese
childr
e
n,
and
h
e
anxiously inquired whether
I had
any
hop
e
that l
e
gislature
would or could
ado
pt
some effective
m
ea
ns of protecting the children who had no par
e
nts
and
ar
e
l
ef
t to l
ea
rn
e
very
vice
in th
e
streets
of London. In
the m
e
anwhil
e,
th
e
y can
,
in any
cas
e
,
obtain
enormous
helps of pudding for
a
penny
,
and
ev
e
n for
a
halfp
e
nny. Nothin
g
is
wasted
in this
establishment.
All scraps ar
e
used, and tho
se
who cannot afford to pay for a fair cut from th
e
joint can
obtain,
for a penny
or
twop
e
nc
e,
a
collection of vegetables
and
scraps
mixed with
soup or gravy,
that contain
a
goo
d proportion
of
the nutritive properties of meat.