Daily Times

After witnessing the trial of a killer on board the ship that brought him to London, the travelling historian developed an inclination to know more about a serial killer who had killed his last victim – a member of the royal family – only a few years ago.

The killer declared that killing as the last one through the word “Final” written by the blood of the victim at a wall of the room where the victim was killed.

All crime scenes were exactly the same. The victims were brutally beaten only between the groins and exactly at their private parts. These were slow deaths because the victims would have been much in pain and shock and must have bled to death. All victims’ heads were turned backwards with such force that the bones of the throat and neck had pierced out of the neck’s skin. All of the victims were royals and were from one well known family.

The travelling historian’s first destination was Shepherd Market in his search to seek answers. There was a belief among people that the killer was some prostitute. Some others believed that the killer was the daughter of a former prostitute. Yet others were of the opinion that the killer was a pimp who had killed these royalties for not paying dues. The travelling historian will come to know only afterwards that the killer was neither a pimp nor a prostitute. The travelling historian had never obtained a service of a prostitute in the past therefore he felt perturbed among them. When he entered the market, many prostitutes threw themselves at him. He was wearing a decent outfit and looked a reasonably well-off person. However the historian was not too interested in any young prostitute. He looked around for older ones and finally settled on one.

The rate was decided and the two went to the nearby alley, which was usually the place where most prostitutes would serve their clients. However the moment the two stopped in the alley, the travelling historian told her that he had changed his mind but would still pay her. He asked her if she could tell him something about the killer of royals as he was a historian and he wanted to know about this mysterious royal’s killer. The prostitute asked if he is an undercover policeman. He assured her that he was not. The old prostitute said she herself didn’t know much about it however there was a rumour among her colleagues that there was an old prostitute who was a brothel owner by the name of Christine who might know something. She also asked him not to tell this to anyone, as this was a closely guarded secret. She had only told him because he had paid her.

Christine was a retired staff member of a royal palace and after leaving the palace she was running a brothel nearby. However she was an elusive person. There was a time when she and some of her friends in this business were regularly invited to the dinners and dance parties of the royals. However this was years ago when she was young, beautiful and attractive. For over 15 years, she had not been invited by anyone however her brothel was well in use by the royals. The travelling historian walked into the brothel and asked to meet Christine. The clerk at the reception told him that Christine was not open to meeting strangers. The historian insisted however and he was soon shown the door. The historian knew that Christine was somewhere inside this house which was in use as a brothel and if he stayed around for a few hours or may be some days, he will catch her outside. So he decided to sit at the corner of the opposite street so that the clerk will not notice him and alert Christine. Many other homeless people were lying around him. This was the perfect hideout for him without getting noticed.

Christine didn’t come out that day; she didn’t come out the next day either. In fact, she didn’t come out the whole two weeks. When the travelling historian had already lost hope, one night a little before dawn, he noticed that a huge buggy had come to the brothel. As the buggy was even bigger than the ones that were frequenting the brothel, so he showed interest in it. Moreover when the buggy came to the brothel, no one came out of it. Instead, the buggy stayed there for 15 minutes before a woman in dark black robes came out of the brothel and sat in it. The travelling historian immediately knew that this was Christine. Christine was old and frail but she was tall and slim. He immediately started following the buggy on foot. However, as soon as the buggy was way ahead of him and sped away between the fields and soon it was gone leaving behind only a cloud of dust. The travelling historian came back to his resting place and waited for Christine’s return. He mostly survived on the food thrown in his direction by the wealthy and nicely dressed customers of the brothel. He was not surprised that so many homeless men were gathered at one place virtually blocking the alleyway because of the frequency of alms given to the homeless by the passers-by. The freezing cold nights of London were his only big concern. Christine returned to the brothel after 18 days. She came back at exactly the same time when she departed – sometime before dawn.

That night he slept in great comfort. He realised that these women who sell themselves for surviving in a man’s society had big hearts and they were ready to protect the vulnerable of the society selflessly. The presence of so many homeless men around the brothel was an example of the kindness of these women

Apart from going on this journey, he had not seen Christine leave the brothel at all. He was concerned that if she wouldn’t leave the brothel on foot then he would never be able to talk to her. So he decided to get Christine’s attention. One night, when most of the customers of the brothel had already left and the brothel was closed for the day’s business, he went around the building in which the brothel was situated asking for alms. He was speaking out loud enough that any residents of the upper floor could easily hear him. No one responded, no food or coins were thrown at him. So after waiting for half an hour, he did exactly the same. This time someone did throw some food at him. He was able to catch the glimpse of the lady that had thrown the food at him. She was dressed in black robes. He wished that it would be Christine. He immediately asked “Madam, may I also have a place to sleep for tonight? I am very weak and can’t sleep on the floor in this cold.”

After a few seconds, an old lady appeared on the window. “Where did you come from and why can’t you just sleep with others round that corner?” she said pointing in the direction of other homeless people.

“Madam, I am not a homeless man and I am not a beggar either. I am a travelling historian. I travel from town to town and country to country in search of events that can bring me closer to my creator,” he said.

“We don’t allow any man in here after business hours,” she said. “However, since we are not selfish like others therefore I may allow you to sleep in a room downstairs,” she added. Soon she was standing right before him opening the door to bring him inside. “All my girls are sleeping right now and I couldn’t offer you anything else except for the food that I gave to you, I can give you some money and a room to stay for the night,” she said directing him to a small room that had a bed and heating.

“Thank you very much madam. I am happy to find a person as kind as you are in this miserable city where a case of a boy killed on a ship will never be registered,” he said.

“And what does that mean? Which boy are you talking about?” Christine asked. The travelling historian was waiting for an opportunity to introduce himself as a genuine travelling historian and he immediately presented to her, the events that he had written so eloquently about the boy’s killing whilst sitting outside this brothel for days among the other homeless men.

“You may take these pages to your room and read them at leisure. And if you want to read other stories from my travelogue you may ask for them,” he said, while handing over pages that had the floating jury and the killed boy’s incident written on them. That night he slept in great comfort. He realised that these women who sell themselves for surviving in a man’s society also had big hearts and they were ready to protect the vulnerable of the society selflessly. The presence of so many homeless men around the brothel was an example of the kindness of these ladies. If the same number of homeless men would have accumulated near some other business then they might already have been forced to leave.

The next morning, when he woke up, and he woke up without been interrupted in sleep by anyone, he found fresh boiled eggs, bacon, sandwiches and hot coffee on the side table. He ate heartily. Just when he was hoping to talk to Christine about the mysterious killer of royals, Christine walked in. “You wrote very well, mister,” she said while handing over the pages back to him. “What are you planning to write about this city though?” she asked. He couldn’t believe his ears when she asked him this question. After a brief wait he began to speak.

“Much like any other travelling historian and traveller, I too am interested in recording the most astonishing incidents of this city that are currently the talk of the town. Our travelogue speaks for the time we lived in at some place. Can you recall some event that can be historic in significance for today’s London?” he asked. They both looked at each other for a while. There was an awkward silence in the room. He noticed her changing colour, probably she had realised which events the travelling historian was talking about.

“I suggest you could leave now, mister. We are about to open,” she said this and turned around.

However, he immediately spoke, “Madam, please let me record the truth behind this royal’s killer and let the world know the truth. Let the killer speak to the people directly for once,” there was a pleading tone to his voice. She left him alone in the room. He didn’t leave the brothel and surprisingly no one asked him to leave either. Perhaps it was the tradition of these miserable women never to force any guest out of their house unless he is not a customer and is too drunk to behave properly.

Hours after the brothel was closed for business, Christine came back to the travelling historian’s room. “I will tell you the story of the royal’s killer only if you promise me that it will not be shared with anyone until 30 years after your natural death. Memory of our people is not too strong, I am sure they will forget about these incidents after a while. This will give the persecuted too to live in peace. I want the history to remember the killer not as an oppressor but as an oppressed,” she said. The travelling historian agreed to this.

A century and half after the death of the travelling historian, some archaeologist found some ancient pages nicely folded and placed inside a glass bottle and buried deep inside the earth. The papers were the missing pages from the posthumously famous travelling historian’s popular travelogue. This is what the travelling historian had written in his travelogue as narrated by Christine:

Stephanie was the senior most housekeeping staff working in the house of the Duke Williams. She was a tall, slim and extremely attractive woman. Her daily responsibilities included looking after the cleanliness of the house and managing all the other staff members ranging from cooks, nannies, gardeners and other such personnel. In short, she was responsible for everything except for the security of the palace. Continued

The writer can be reached at m.khalid.shaikh@gmail.com

Published in Daily Times, October 28^th 2017.