Editing Black Dragon, White Death: Prologue
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''Why did a bunch of damned Eastender lowlifes selling God knows what right off the East India docks get themselves killed on my watch? Their would-be customers dead too, by all accounts. At least a dozen corpses in all and for what? A fewTea chests? Opium?<br><br> | ''Why did a bunch of damned Eastender lowlifes selling God knows what right off the East India docks get themselves killed on my watch? Their would-be customers dead too, by all accounts. At least a dozen corpses in all and for what? A fewTea chests? Opium?<br><br> | ||
− | + | It’ll take hours to get everything processed. Only two survivors in holding. Worthless scum. Streets're safer without that lot. Cockneys might as well be wogs. Could stand to have less of them, too''.<br><br> | |
His reverie was interrupted when Inspector Hargreaves dropped the small pile of loose paper that constituted his “report” on Sergeant Nellings desk. Hargreaves looked tired and ill-kept. The only inspector in the office who worked nights, he’d been assigned Lambethside as a punishment for politically inopportune investigations and since then his work had become somewhat lackadaisical.<br><br> | His reverie was interrupted when Inspector Hargreaves dropped the small pile of loose paper that constituted his “report” on Sergeant Nellings desk. Hargreaves looked tired and ill-kept. The only inspector in the office who worked nights, he’d been assigned Lambethside as a punishment for politically inopportune investigations and since then his work had become somewhat lackadaisical.<br><br> |