The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 1609 - 26: Mr. Martin’s New Business (2)

Without waiting for Martin to analyze in detail, Arthur lazily revealed the truth: "Because they offer a free beer to every pretty lady visiting the tavern, and then the gentlemen flock to the place like lapdogs to brag."

As soon as Arthur spoke, Martin smoothly began to flatter him: "You truly live up to your reputation as London’s famed detective; you can spot these little business tricks at a glance."

"I’m not the famed detective." Arthur peeled the salted peanuts Martin had specially prepared for him: "The real famed detective is bobbing around at sea. But if you admire him so much, I have a London Revelry Guide he just wrote; if you’re interested, you can add your tavern name to it."

With that, Arthur tossed the book onto the bar.

Martin’s palm brushed across the brand-new cover, carefully examining the rather crudely printed "The Bumpkin’s Guide: More London Revelry! Enjoy the Metropolis’ Bustle."

Martin flipped through a few pages casually and immediately noticed that this book had a striking similarity to the Guide to the Flowers secretly published by Bernie Harrison, the former MP who died by suicide. The book began clearly, with the first Chapter titled "Visiting Famous Courtesans."

However, as an old Londoner, Martin could see through Eld’s antics at a glance.

Among the seven famous courtesans listed by Eld, two had already passed away, one had retired many years ago, one had contracted syphilis, and according to Eld’s description, another "sails towards the shore like a burning ship — be cautious." Thus, only two remained, and even they were as elusive as dragons.

Yet, no matter how Eld exaggerated, Martin, growing up at the foot of the Tower of London, had never heard of these seven famous courtesans.

In summary, this book was pure fiction.

Even so, the Imperial Publishing Company, with its lustful ambitions, didn’t mind using this book to make a sensational impact nationwide at train stations.

Arthur asked: "What do you think of this book?"

Martin very much wanted to denounce the author’s shameless act of making easy money, but he was embarrassed to ridicule Arthur’s friend.

So he could only express his opinion tactfully: "In my view, the most praiseworthy thing is the book’s title. ’The Bumpkin’s Guide,’ this book is probably aimed at young men who fancy themselves playboys yet only dare to buy a dirty book."

Martin’s insightful evaluation even left Arthur astounded.

He pondered for a long while before realizing he underestimated the significance of adult magazines; upon careful analysis, there were surprisingly many intricacies.

With arms crossed, Arthur solemnly looked at Martin: "Hmm... Jason, are you interested in working at the publishing house? I think you might have talent in this area."

"Publishing house? Me?"

Martin continued wiping glasses, laughing and replying: "You’ve given me too much credit; I have no talent. I could mess up half of the twenty-six letters. An arm used to polishing glasses can hardly hold a quill. Besides, unlike you, it’s challenging enough for an ordinary guy like me to make a change in my life. My business at Alhambra is just picking up. If you’re looking out for me, don’t stir things up."

Seeing Martin’s firm attitude, Arthur didn’t push any further; after all, that wasn’t his purpose for visiting today.

He gestured toward the small rooms at the back of the tavern: "Business picking up? Are you referring to those French introduction rooms specializing in spreading the French disease?"

Martin smoothly replied: "Just a few rooms for guests to rest in—much cheaper than private boxes in theaters, so naturally, business is booming. As for spreading the French disease? That’s the guests’ privacy, not something I can manage. You might occasionally encounter one, but there will never be more than one at the same time."

Upon hearing this, Arthur chuckled softly: "You’ve mastered the legal loopholes. A lone sparrowhawk perched on a branch can be considered a freelancer, but if two sparrowhawks land on the same branch, the branch must apply for a business permit."

Martin winked at Arthur: "You know this, yet focus only on old friends like me? You aren’t in the police force anymore."

Arthur swirled his wine glass: "I’m not focusing on you; I’ve just heard that many actresses in London frequent these French introduction rooms. And at Alhambra Theater, there’s a tavern where customers can interact with ballet actresses backstage, so I came specially to ask if it’s true."

Martin’s glass-wiping slowed down as he looked at Arthur skeptically: "Have you recently taken an interest in ballet?"

"You could say that." Arthur replied: "But more importantly, I’ve heard that Miss Mary Taglioni, who starred in ’The Sylph,’ trains ballet dancers for Alhambra Theater. Can you connect me with her?"

As soon as Arthur spoke, Martin felt as if he’d been struck by lightning, numb from head to toe.

"Well... um... Sir, it’s not that I won’t help you with this, but... you might not know, uh... Miss Mary Taglioni is an incredibly famous ballet dancer!"

Arthur calmly sipped his drink: "I know; I’ve watched her perform in Paris."