"Why are you flinching like that? Must be feeling guilty about something, I suppose?"
As it turned out, I wasn't a suspect.
Whew, what a relief...
No, wait.
It's only natural.
I have used poison before, but it was at the police station.
And it was all done with permission, you see.
"Anyway... it's a case the higher-ups want to sweep under the rug. But to my eyes, it seems a bit strange."
"Please explain."
"Yes, we're listening."
The Commissioner's visit came on an afternoon that was as leisurely as usual.
I had taken care of the diabetic patients in the morning, and disinfected and sent off the Member of Parliament in the morning too, so I had absolutely nothing left to do.
So, strictly speaking, he was an unwelcome guest who showed up during my break...
But not all unwelcome guests are the same, right?
Besides, we have connections with the gangs and benefit from it, and we also regularly receive corpses from the police station, among other perks, so the Commissioner was a VIP among VIPs.
Therefore, we served him the black tea brought out by Joseph, the Emperor of Disinfection, and listened to his story.
Sip.
As I drank the black tea, I was reminded of Qing China, which I had momentarily forgotten.
Come to think of it, wasn't the Opium War planned because they were running a deficit buying this stuff?
It's not that I... have particularly good feelings towards China or the Qing, but just looking at this incident alone, it seems like Britain's fault.
They bought it because they wanted it, ran a deficit, and then started selling opium.
What's even more absurd is that listening to people like Jamie or the MPs, they seem well aware of the harms of opium, yet it's still sold openly, in broad daylight, even here.
"Look carefully. They are from banker families... a full 6 out of 10 people died."
"Huh... But, they died with diarrhea?"
"Hmm... They also had a fever. And diarrhea... Just looking at this, it's similar to cholera, isn't it?"
I was managing to follow the conversation despite my wandering thoughts.
As I listened, it seemed like a rather pointless conversation, so my interest was gradually waning.
He said poisoning or something, but it's just cholera.
"No, but... according to you folks, cholera spreads a bit, doesn't it?"
"That's right. But if you just wash your hands well, you won't get it."
"That's true. But look. It's not just here. These are people from business families. Here, 4 out of 8 people died."
"What about people from nearby families?"
"They're mostly fine. Ah, this family here did have quite a few deaths though."
"Hmm..."
But as I listened more, it did seem strange.
Cholera...
Like most infectious diseases, isn't it a disease that typically infects socio-economically disadvantaged people much more easily?
However, at our hospital at least, we haven't heard so much as a 'C' from the word 'Cholera'.
One might think, 'Well, it is the 19th century,' but...
Our director is quite an enlightened gentleman, you know.
On top of that, those dying now are clearly members of London's leadership class.
"It certainly is strange."
"Right, it's strange. The fact that they are dying off in isolated points like this is strange."
And it wasn't spreading to the neighbors either.
They die here, they die there, just as the Commissioner said, they were dying off in points.
"But... there are no other findings to suspect poisoning. Semmel just called it diarrhea sickness."
"Semmel? Why did you call that guy?"
"I didn't know you folks had moved here. I went, and they said you weren't there, so I called the next most famous person."
"Ah..."
Semmel...
The Emperor of Bloodletting.
That guy is considered a renowned doctor in London.
It's a truly hopeless situation... but separate from that, this case is a bit strange.
"We have Semmel's opinion, and my men aren't finding any clues at all, so they're slowly getting worn out. Moreover..."
"Moreover?"
"Actually, the reason I started thinking this was strange was because I dropped the case files and was organizing them..."
"Yes?"
"If you look closely, these three cases here... have almost 3-month gaps between them."
"Oh, that's right. Hmm... Serial murder?"
"Serial murder? Oh... It's my first time hearing that term. Sounds quite plausible."
"Ah, it's your first time hearing it."
"It's the first time I've heard such a term."
I see.
The 19th century is an era where the term 'serial murder' doesn't exist yet.
It could be that such a person exists but hasn't been caught...
Or it could be that social pathology hasn't progressed that badly yet.
If it were before I came back here, I might have optimistically leaned towards the latter.
There's a vague feeling that the past, while materially lacking, must have been spiritually rich.
But having actually come here, it's not true.
This place... has much worse human hearts and is harder to live in.
I realize every hour that the saying 'poverty chills the heart' exists for a reason.
"Well, that's not the important point. I'm getting interested."
"We also have time now."
"Aren't you busy? I heard this place is doing very well lately."
"The assistants handle the preparations anyway."
"Yes, we have nothing to do."
"Right, so you can come along, is that what you're saying?"
Anyway, Liston and I stood up almost simultaneously.
Watching us, the Police Commissioner smiled contentedly and stood up as well.
"Right, say what they will, you two are the real doctors. I was feeling a bit uneasy lately because of the ominous rumors going around."
No matter how you look at it, it seems he called Semmel not because he didn't know we were here, but simply because he himself felt uneasy.
Common sense says, is it possible for any high-ranking official in London not to know about our hospital's recent opening?
Whatever the case, he's seen the light now, so it's fine.
I'm so... tremendously understanding.
Clatter.
Anyway, we headed to the police station in the Commissioner's carriage.
It was quite pleasing to see most of the carriages and people we passed on the way bowing their heads or making way for us.
This is status...
This is power...
'Next time the topic of titles comes up, I should get knighted at least.'
Wouldn't it be nice to experience this at least once while living in the 19th century?
Well... it's not like I don't experience it at all.
If I go to the slums or among the gangs, they all bow their heads.
But that's a bit... you know.
I want to inspire respect and fear among ordinary people too.
"We're here. Why are you smiling like that?"
"Huh? Me?"
"Yes. Just now, you looked very... well, like the French."
"Isn't that too harsh an insult?"
"Haha, just joking. You looked German."
"That's..."
Isn't that an even worse insult?
They have less than 100 years left.
Until they start a World War.
And if you wait a little longer, right?
Then World War II breaks out and they carry out mechanized massacres.
"Alright, gather around."
"Ah, yes."
Anyway, we went inside and headed to the Commissioner's office.
It's an era with clear preferential treatment for those in power, so he even had a separate secretary, and the room was splendid and nice.
The window was large, and even though it's London, perhaps it was built in a sunny spot or something, but sunlight came in well.
It wasn't just us; the detectives who had investigated this case, I suppose...?
Police officers were also present.
They came because they were told to, but they didn't seem to have come willingly.
Every time the Commissioner looked away, they exchanged insolent glances among themselves.
Of course, it was futile.
"You. You said there are no points of criminal suspicion?"
"Ah, yes. We investigated all the servants and people around them at the time."
"What did you investigate?"
"First... we mainly investigated the people the victims had contact with at the time of their death... There were no particular grudges, and most importantly, there was no one who benefited or stood to benefit from the victim's death."
"Right, you said that. And you?"
When you're asked a question, you should answer it.
He's the Commissioner, the Commissioner.
Not a 21st-century commissioner, but a 19th-century one.
He's a person of immense power, I tell you.
Even the police officers outside have probably dined and dashed more often than they've paid at ordinary shops, they are people with that much power, but the more power one has, the weaker they tend to be before greater power.
"Mine isn't much different. There was one person who did have a grudge... but they were abroad at the time of the incident."
"Isn't there a possibility they hired someone?"
"There's no trace of money exchange, and most importantly, according to the servants' testimonies, there were no new people coming and going around the time of the death."
"Possibility the cook was bribed?"
"He's a fairly famous person. That possibility is unlikely. Moreover, that person became unemployed after the master here died. We confirmed he faced livelihood difficulties."
"I see... And you?"
Thanks to this, Liston and I could listen to the details of what the officers had investigated.
This is just a simplified summary; you could tell these gentlemen hadn't investigated carelessly.
If people in the slums had been dying like this, they probably wouldn't have investigated at all.
What investigation? They would have just sent the corpses straight to our hospital.
But since the victims were all upper-class people, it seemed they had done a proper job for once.
You could tell from their attitude and expressions alone that they had investigated diligently.
"Mine is similar. For a businessman, his reputation was very good. Even the factory workers liked him, they say."
"He probably didn't make much money then?"
"Well, he inherited a lot of money anyway."
"Ah, I see..."
"One peculiar...? No, this is probably nothing."
The last officer to speak tried to say something but hesitated.
Both I and Liston, and most of all, the Commissioner, were annoyed.
"Say it, whatever it is."
"Well, it's nothing major..."
"Then you wouldn't have thought so either. Speak up."
"Ah, yes. It's... about the cook."
"The cook?"
"Yes. The cook who was at these people's houses."
"What are you saying? That the cooks at these deceased people's houses are all the same person?"
At the Commissioner's words, the officer nodded.
'No way.'
That reaction brought one specific case to my mind.
It wasn't coming to me precisely, so I needed a moment.
I remained silent, you see...
"Was there a grudge?"
"Ah, no. I found it strange too, so I really looked into it thoroughly... There was absolutely no sign of him living better or changing his spending habits after moving workplaces."
"Couldn't he have done it secretly?"
"No. You see... it hasn't been that many months. I followed him for almost one or two months, and even now, he found a job and is working ordinarily as a cook. On the contrary, it seemed his circumstances became very difficult each time a master died."
"Hmm... I see. A grudge? You never know about grudges."
"His reputation around him is very good. He's very generous... Moreover, they say he attended every single funeral and cried each time someone died, and it didn't seem like an act."
"So it's just a coincidence, then."
"That's... what I concluded."
Watching the nodding officer, I precisely recalled the case.
'Typhoid Mary...'