Dolly couldn’t directly explain how she knew about this police officer’s background—she could only call it a gamble.
“Yes, I believe they will investigate. That’s what I’m betting on.”
She rolled her eyes. “That day, the inspector who came to our house for questioning—remember him?”
Mr. Nash suddenly recalled the police officers who had visited their home that day, especially the young and difficult one.
“I remember now. That man became an inspector at such a young age, and the officers around him were quite respectful. It seems he has some connections.
If he solves this case and polishes his record, a promotion to Police Superintendent would be perfectly reasonable. People like him are all like that.”
Having spent so many years in London, Mr. Nash had dealt with the police before and knew the intricacies involved.
Scotland Yard sending such an inspector to investigate this case was truly thought-provoking. It was likely that higher-ups were already fighting among themselves.
But regarding this inspector himself, not a single word had been mentioned in any newspaper, as if they had all agreed on it.
Mr. Nash was certain that Lobit had no idea what the person investigating the case was like.
Dolly gave an approving look.
“I think that in just a few days, the underground black market in White Chapel will be thoroughly investigated.
When that happens, pulling up one will drag out others. We might as well…”
“I suspect the transaction location for this batch of smuggled liquor is… When the time comes, we just need to wait for him to take the bait.”
“There’s no need to worry about being exposed, after all, no one uses their real name in black market transactions.”
“Do you remember? A while ago, the underground tavern across the street also sold this kind of liquor…”
She leaned in and whispered a few words, her voice rising and falling. Apart from Mr. Nash and Fred, no one heard exactly what she said.
After speaking, she calmly raised her head under the astonished gazes of Mr. Nash and Fred.
“Although this will inevitably cost us some money,
I can take responsibility for handling it and try to keep it under control.”
After Dolly finished speaking, Mr. Nash and Fred couldn’t help but narrow their eyes, pondering the idea.
If the police really continued their investigation, they would surely trace backward along the path the mastermind used to dispose of the stolen goods.
With a major social incident putting pressure on them, these inspectors would undoubtedly make an example without mercy.
Mr. Nash also believed this was a highly feasible opportunity—rarely did such chances come along for them to exploit.
Even if the police didn’t investigate or the fish didn’t take the bait, it would only mean losing a bit of money.
“Of course we should do it. We’re not at risk of being caught. As soon as the receipts are produced, everything will be clear.
As for money, if you don’t spend it first, how can you earn it?
Right now, it’s just a matter of betting on whether Lobit is greedy enough.”
Mr. Nash said.
Beside him, Fred marveled at how deep and complicated the situation was but didn’t forget to nod in agreement.
Seeing that her grandfather and father were bold enough to take risks, Dolly closed her mouth, satisfied.
The three of them—grandfather, father, and daughter—were whispering outside, while Mary in the kitchen heard nothing, only noticing that the voices outside had suddenly fallen silent.
She lifted the curtain and stepped out, scanning the room. Seeing the three of them suddenly quiet, she looked somewhat confused.
“What are you talking about? Dinner’s ready, and there are a few cooked dishes for tomorrow’s sale. Come and try them.”
She called up the stairs again, “Penny! Dinner’s ready!”
Everyone tacitly fell silent, keeping it from Mary who had never done anything wrong.
They changed the subject to ask about tonight’s dinner, everything just as usual.
In the evening, the kitchen was bathed in warm yellow light. After the storage room was cleared for use, there weren’t too many miscellaneous items in the kitchen anymore, and now everyone had plenty of space to sit.
Mr. Nash and Fred had just walked into the kitchen and thought they had come to the wrong place.
The table was still used as a cutting board; after the meal was prepared, it was cleared to serve as the dining table.
Mary was in a good mood today and had unusually laid a linen cloth over the table, meticulously setting out bright red checkered placemats and new utensils that weren’t normally used for everyone.
This could be considered a fresh start.
Dolly looked at the dishes on the table: there was chicken stewed with potato chunks, a few home-style dishes, and a small basket of steaming bread in both sweet and savory flavors.
The meat broth pudding that had solidified in the Mason jar was also turned out onto a plate, looking crystal clear, mixed with shredded meat and seasonings.
Small porcelain dishes held freshly simmered cinnamon-apricot jam, all smelling absolutely delightful.
Dolly thought the presentation was quite good. She had just taken a seat toward the back when there was a knock at the front door.
Fred went out first to check. He got up, slipped through the curtain, and went outside to open the main door.
Outside, the sky was already pitch dark. Standing under the eaves were his sister Rissie, along with his niece Emma and nephew Peter.
They were carrying several bags of various sizes, having come specifically to visit Lisa.
“You found time to come today?” Fred was somewhat surprised and very happy.
“Come in quickly and join us for dinner.”
Rissie didn’t stand on ceremony either, saying:
“Alright.
Emma is off today, her father is still at work, and the tenants don’t want to eat the dinner I made either.
So I thought, why not just bring the two of them over for a visit.”
Hearing the commotion, the others in the kitchen came out one by one.
Rissie could only come once every half month, and each time she brought lots of delicious treats. Penny liked her the most and ran the fastest, darting out in an instant to hug Rissie’s leg and act cute.
Rissie felt that Penny, this little monkey, had grown a bit taller again. She took a paper box from the pile of things in her hands and handed it to her, saying:
“I bought you macarons, go eat them quickly.”
Only then did Penny let go, grabbing the paper bag and running into the kitchen with Peter beside her, their footsteps echoing “clomp, clomp, clomp.”
Mary and Dolly came out, and Aunt Rissie stepped forward to give them warm hugs.
“What did you cook today? It smells wonderful.”
“I stewed chicken and tried making a lot of prepared foods, planning to sell them in the shop later…”
“Ah, you’re finally willing to put your cooking skills to use! Are you still babysitting for others then?”
“No, I stopped. My little business hasn’t been doing too well lately, but now the grocery store’s business is picking up…”
Rissie was about the same age as Mary and had even worked in the same factory when they were young.
It was Rissie who introduced Mary to Fred, and they had a good relationship, chatting endlessly once they started.
Dolly initially stood by politely smiling, beginning to recall basic information about Aunt Rissie’s family in her mind.
Aunt Rissie’s family of four lived north of Camden King’s Cross Station.
Fifteen years ago, she married Mr. Amber, a railway linesman, and had been living in Camden ever since.
Mr. Amber was a migrant worker from Scotland who had started working for the railway company at the age of twenty.
Over a decade later, he had risen from a junior clerk to a team leader, with a monthly salary of seven Pounds Sterling—a sum sufficient to support a family for ordinary people.
Thus, Rissie did not take on full-time work but chose instead to become a sub-landlord.
Her family rented an entire, slightly more spacious house, occupying only the first floor themselves.
She then sublet the upper two floors and the attic to those needing short-term accommodation, as Camden had a large transient population.
By also earning service fees from attending to the tenants’ daily needs while looking after her two children, her income was comparable to that of a full-time job.
Dolly thought she was a very diligent and clever woman, possessing some business acumen and the ability to manage accounts well.
Dolly shifted her gaze to the side, where a lively boy wearing a gray octagonal cap passed by her. His name was Peter Amber, aged thirteen.
His sister Emma was two years older than him. Emma Amber was only a few months younger than Dolly.
Emma also attended a girls’ school near Camden, though this school only taught a few minor European languages and offered no other courses.
In terms of employment, graduates could work as translation assistants in various private companies or public institutions, or in venues that frequently hosted foreign guests.
Emma wore a slightly worn green woolen overcoat and a soft boat-shaped hat on her head. She was very pretty, with slightly reddish hair and an outgoing personality.
Dolly naturally returned to the kitchen with Emma to arrange the chairs.
They added a few stools and set out several sets of utensils.
Peter was too mischievous to sit at the table, as he was fascinated by the ditch outside the back door of the Nash family’s kitchen.
Carefree children his age were often like this.
Emma immediately scolded him loudly, twisting his ear to drag him inside.
Dolly watched with astonishment; it seemed this cousin was quite formidable in her own right.
Peter instantly wilted like frostbitten eggplant, sitting obediently, and Penny also settled down—truly, one thing subdues another.
Mr. Nash and Fred went upstairs to accompany Rissie to see Lisa.
Mary returned to the kitchen and quickly prepared two additional dishes. She then fetched a bottle of unsold gin from before, grabbed a few old glasses, and poured drinks.
Emma opened the paper boxes she had brought one by one. They contained not only macarons but also sponge cakes coated with raspberry jam.
These items were not cheap, costing several Shillings per pound.
Dolly examined them carefully for a while. The sponge cake was first dipped in syrup before being brushed with jam, making it excessively sweet.
“They’re drinking alcohol, so let’s have tea. It’s freshly made floral tea, with rose and osmanthus flavors. Which would you like?”
Emma thought for a moment, unsure of the difference, but she liked roses.
“Rose, then.”
Soon, everyone returned to the kitchen and sat down together.
The table was laden with delicacies—food and drinks, desserts and main courses all piled together without any particular order.
Rissie could sense that her parents’ home seemed different from usual, not only in the environment of the house but also in an indescribable atmosphere.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but under Mary’s enthusiastic urging, she helped herself to a generous portion of food from the platter.
Rissie first tried the meat jelly. Using an iron spoon, she cut a piece from the translucent amber-colored cylinder and placed it on the tip of her tongue.
The solidified broth had no trace of gaminess. The spices, seasonings, and finely minced meat melted in her mouth with a gentle press.
“This tastes really good.”
Rissie then picked up a sweet bread roll, dipped it in jam, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed a few times before squinting her eyes in satisfaction.
“Mmm, this is delicious too. How are all these made?”
Mary briefly explained the ingredients and steps, but Rissie was left bewildered. She had never been skilled at cooking, though she often prepared meals to sell to her lodgers and could estimate costs based on recipes.
“I think these dishes would definitely sell well and could be made for a long time,” Rissie said to Mary with certainty.
Everyone at the table was busy serving themselves, and Dolly also tried a bit of each dish.
After dinner, Rissie and her children reluctantly prepared to leave.
Mary packed two or three portions of each dish she had prepared into paper bags, stuffed them into a basket, and insisted on handing it to Rissie.
Unable to refuse, Rissie had no choice but to accept the gifts.
Fred went out with an umbrella to find a neighbor who ran a carriage rental service. He hired a carriage to safely transport Rissie and her two children back home.
Author’s Note: