Read Online The Mummy Snatcher of Memphis by Natasha Narayan - Free Book Online

the noise and bustle that is everywhere in London. I had to raise my voice to get Baruch to hear me. The greener, with his large bundle, struggled to make a path through the crowds.
    â€œWhat can I say? My master should tell the police about these villains,” Baruch said, stopping in the middle of the pavement. “But he does not. He is too scared.”
    â€œMoses Zwingler?” I asked, surprised. He didn’t look like a particularly nervous man.
    â€œYes, we are scared. Zwingler, the other shopkeepers, workers, all of us in Raven Row. Every week Jabber or another man—they come and take money. Sometimes they demand five shillings. Sometimes ten. Once they took a whole guinea. And the masters, they pay. The criminals, they say they need the money to protect us.” Baruch shrugged. “All lies. If the shopkeepers don’t pay, they get beaten. Or their shop will be fired.”
    â€œThat’s wicked.”
    â€œIt is the way. Jews, we have many peoples bleeding us. Like lemons—even if we have not much juice there is a little more they can squeeze.”
    â€œI thought it was your master, Moses Zwingler, doing the squeezing,” I said.
    Baruch grimaced: “Fleas feed on small fleas. Both are sucked dry by bigger, how you say?”
    â€œInsects?” I suggested. “Businessmen?”
    â€œThey call it business,” he agreed. “In Russia it is the same.”
    â€œWho is doing this to you?” Isaac asked. “Who are these criminals?”
    â€œWhere do we find them?” I added.
    But Baruch frowned; this talk was making him angry. He turned round and began walking much more quickly. We were on the edge of a crowd, waiting on the pavement. As we approached a large red omnibusappeared from the direction of Victoria. It was emblazoned with signs for Fry’s Cocoa and was already packed: gentlemen spilling off the rails at the top, ladies crammed into the downstairs compartment.
    People surged around us. We were trapped in a stampede, people pushing and shoving like navvies. An elderly lady in a lace-trimmed bonnet landed me a punch in the ribs as she made her way determinedly past. Baruch was caught in the middle.
    â€œBaruch,” I yelled. “Where do we find these thugs?”
    â€œYou’ve got to go to Norfolk. To Punch, its a—” abruptly his words were bitten off. I caught a surprised look on his face and then he was lost from view in the human traffic.
    â€œBaruch, Baruch,” I yelled. The others added their voices to mine. It was no good, a second omnibus had driven up and the crowd frothed around it like an angry sea. We would just have to wait till the crush eased.
    I glared at a gentleman in a shiny new top hat who had trodden on my foot. If he could afford a hat like that he could also afford manners, was the way I saw it. Another man, with piggy eyes and no chin, shoved against me and, fed up now, I shoved back. We waited for the crowd to disperse and in a few moments most of them had managed to cram into the two omnibuses.
    But Baruch was nowhere to be seen. Had he left us? Itmade no sense, he was just about to tell us the name of the villain.
    Over the rumble of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels I suddenly heard screaming. It was Rachel. I looked over at her, frowning. This wasn’t the moment for one of her attacks of nerves. My friend was shrieking hysterically, her whole body trembling. I looked down, following her eyes. Baruch was spread-eagled in the gutter—one arm still cradling his sack. There was a trickle of dark liquid coming out of his mouth. He has a dirty face, I thought, for a moment before I realized what the stuff was. Something was sticking out of his shirt-front. Something white and lustrous. I bent down to take a closer look at it and it was all I could do to stop myself screaming. It was the hilt of a pearl-handled knife.

Chapter Eleven
    I caught the merest glimpse of Baruch