Dark-Haired British Doctor Chapter 263

Episode 263: Rather than poisoning [1]

“Why are you flinching so much? Are you feeling something hurt?”

As it turned out, I wasn't a suspect.

Phew, thank goodness… … .

No, no.

It's a given.

I've poisoned people before, but I did it at the police station.

What I'm saying is that all of this was done with permission.

“Anyway… … It’s an incident that they’re trying to cover up from below. But from my perspective, it’s a bit strange.”

“Please explain.”

“Yes, I will listen.”

It was a leisurely afternoon like any other when the chief came to visit.

The diabetic patients were all taken care of in the morning, and the doctor's head was also disinfected in the morning, so there was nothing left to do.

So, if you think about it, it's an uninvited guest who came while you were resting…

Isn't an uninvited guest just like an uninvited guest?

In addition to being connected to the gang and benefiting from it, the police station also received regular corpses and other benefits, so the chief was a VIP among VIPs.

So we listened to his words while being treated to tea from the master of disinfection, Joseph.

Shredded.

As I was drinking black tea, I suddenly remembered the Qing Dynasty, which I had briefly forgotten about.

If you think about it, wasn't the Opium War planned because it was running at a loss to buy this?

Well… … I don’t really have good feelings towards China or the Qing, but if you look at this incident in isolation, I think it was Britain’s fault.

They bought it because they wanted to eat it, but when they ran a deficit, they sold the opium.

What's even more absurd is that, when you listen to what Jamie and other members of the National Assembly say, they certainly seem to be well aware of the harmful effects of opium, yet they are blatantly selling it here in broad daylight.

“Look carefully. They are from a family of bankers… … Out of ten of them, six are dead.”

“Huh… … No, but you died while having diarrhea?”

“Umm… … I have a fever. And diarrhea… … It looks like it’s similar to cholera.”

I managed to keep up with the conversation even though my mind was wandering.

As I listened to it, it felt like such a useless conversation, so I gradually lost interest.

They say it's poison or something, but it's actually cholera.

“No, but… … According to you, isn’t cholera spreading a bit?”

“That’s right. But if you wash your hands well, you won’t get it.”

“That’s true. But look, it’s not just here. This is a business family. Here, too, four out of eight people died.”

“What about the people in the nearby houses?”

“It’s almost okay. Oh, there were quite a few deaths in this house.”

“Umm… … .”

But the more I listened, the more it seemed strange.

Cholera is… … .

As with any infectious disease, isn't this a disease that infects people who are originally socioeconomically disadvantaged more easily?

But for now, we haven't even heard the 'ㅋ' of cholera from our hospital.

Well, you might think that the 19th century was the 19th century… … .

Our director is quite a enlightened gentleman.

In addition, it was clearly London's leadership class that was dying out.

“It’s definitely strange.”

“Yeah, it’s strange. It’s strange that they’re dying like this.”

It wasn't like it was spreading to the house next door either.

Dying here, dying there, just like the chief said, they were dying in dots.

“But… … there are no other findings that would suggest poisoning. For now, Jemel just said it was diarrhea.”

“Jemel? Why did he call you?”

“I didn’t know you guys had moved here. When I got there, you guys said you weren’t there, so I called the next most famous person.”

"ah……."

Jemel… … .

The king of bloodshed.

That guy is hearing the sound of fame in London.

This is truly a desperate situation, but… … Separately from that, this incident is a bit strange.

“There’s also Jemel’s words, and my subordinates are getting tired of it because they haven’t come up with any clues. And… … .”

“And what else?”

“Actually, the reason I started to think this was strange was because I dropped the case file and was organizing it.”

"yes."

“If you look closely, these three incidents… … are almost three months apart.”

“Oh, I see. Hmm… … Serial killings?”

“Serial killings? Oh… … I’ve never heard of that before. It sounds pretty plausible.”

“Oh, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

I see.

The 19th century was a time when the term serial murder did not yet exist.

There might be someone like that, but we haven't caught him… … .

Or perhaps the social pathology has not yet progressed that badly.

If it were before I came back here, I might have thought more positively of the latter.

Somehow, when I think of the past, I feel like it might be lacking materially, but it would be rich spiritually.

But when I actually got there, it wasn't like that.

This place… … is much more unfriendly and harder to live in.

Every hour I realize that it's not for nothing that they say that good deeds come from the barn.

“Well, that’s not important, but it’s interesting.”

“And there is time.”

“Are you busy? I heard things are going well here these days.”

“Anyway, the assistants will be doing the preparations.”

“Yes, we have nothing to do.”

“Okay, so can I go with you?”

Anyway, Liston and I got up without saying who would go first.

The police chief, who was watching the scene, smiled happily and got up along with them.

“Yeah, no matter what anyone says, you guys are the real doctors. I was a little uneasy for a moment because of the ominous rumors going around these days.”

No matter how I look at it, it seems like he called Jemel not because he didn't know we were here, but because he just felt uneasy.

Does it make sense that the Lord Chancellor of London doesn't know that a new hospital has opened in our area?

Whatever it was, it's okay since I've converted.

I am so… … so understanding.

Right away.

Anyway, we rode in the chief's carriage and headed to the police station.

It was quite a sight to see most of the carriages and people we encountered along the way bowing their heads or avoiding our path.

This is the identity… … .

This is power… … .

'Next time the topic of titles comes up, I should at least get a knighthood.'

Wouldn't it be nice to enjoy something like this once while living in the 19th century?

Well… … It's not like I can't enjoy life at all.

When you go to the slums or gangs, everyone bows their heads.

But that's a bit like that.

I would like to inspire respect and fear among the general public.

“You’re all here. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Yes? Me?”

“Yeah. Just now it was really… … yeah, like the French guys.”

“Aren’t you cursing too much?”

“Haha, just kidding. You sound like a German.”

"that is……."

Isn't that an even bigger insult?

Gene said there are less than 100 years left.

Until the world war started.

And just wait a little longer?

Then World War II breaks out and mechanized genocide begins.

“Okay, gather around.”

“Oh, yes.”

Anyway, we went inside and headed to the director's office.

Since it was a time when preferential treatment for those in power was clear, there was a separate secretary, and the room was fancy and nice.

The windows are large and although it is in London and is located in a sunny spot, it is still bright and airy.

It's not just us, should we say the detectives who investigated this case… … ?

The police officers were also present.

He came when I told him to, but it didn't seem like he came from his heart.

Every time the chief looked away, they made rude eye contact among themselves.

Of course, that didn't help much.

“You. You said there was no suspicion of a crime?”

“Oh, yes. At that time, we investigated both the employees and the people around them.”

“What did you research?”

“First of all… … we investigated the people who were in contact with the victims when they died… … and there was no particular grudge, and above all, there was no one who benefited or could benefit from the victims’ deaths.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. What about you?”

You should at least answer the questions.

It's the chief, the chief.

It's not a 21st century prologue, it's a 19th century prologue.

He is a man of immense power, that's what I'm saying.

Even police officers are people with power to the point that they have more experience of eating and drinking without paying than of going into a regular store and paying for something. However, the more powerful a person is, the weaker he becomes in the face of greater power.

“I’m not much different. There was just one person I had a grudge against… … I was abroad at the time of the incident.”

“Isn’t it possible that he requested something?”

“There is no evidence of money being exchanged, and above all, according to the testimonies of the employees, no new people came and went before or after his death.”

“Is it possible that the chef was bribed?”

“He’s quite famous. It’s not likely. Besides, the owner of this place died and he became unemployed. I confirmed that he was having trouble making ends meet.”

“I see… … and you?”

Thanks to that, Liston and I were able to hear the story behind what the officers had been investigating.

This is just a brief summary, and I could tell that these gentlemen did not conduct their investigation carelessly.

If people had died like this in the slums, there probably wouldn't have been an investigation or anything.

What's the investigation? They must have just sent the body to our hospital.

But since the victims were all upper class people, it seemed like they did it right for once.

Just by looking at their speech and facial expressions, you can tell that they have researched hard.

“I’m similar. I have a very good reputation as a businessman. Even the factory workers like me.”

“You must not have made much money?”

“I inherited a lot of money anyway.”

“Aha. I see… … .”

“One thing special… …? No, that’s not it.”

The last officer to say something was about to stammer.

I was annoyed, so was Liston, but most of all, the chief.

“Say something.”

“This is nothing special… … .”

“Then you didn’t think so either. Tell me.”

“Oh, yes. That… …the chef.”

"chef?"

“Yes. I am the cook who lived in these people’s house.”

“What are you talking about? The cook in these dead people’s homes is all the same person?”

The officer nodded at the chief's words.

'no way.'

There was one case that came to mind that really struck me about that reaction.

It took me a while to remember because it wasn't exactly what I was thinking.

I was silent, that's what I'm saying… … .

“Do you have a grudge?”

“Oh, no. I looked into it really hard because it was strange… … I haven’t really gotten better or changed my spending habits since I moved to a new job.”

“Can’t you do it secretly?”

“No. It’s been… … a few months. I’ve been following him for about a month or two, and I’ve found a job and am just working as a cook. On the contrary, it seems like things get worse every time my master dies.”

“Hmm… … I see. What about the grudge? You don’t know what you want.”

“He has a very good reputation. He is very kind… … Most of all, he is said to have attended funerals without fail and cried whenever someone died, so I don’t think it was an act.”

“Is it just a coincidence, then?”

“That’s what I’ve decided… ….”

As I watched the officer nod, I recalled the case precisely.

'Typhoid Mary… … .'