Chapter 13: Gruesome Murder

"Liziwe! You there, hold her! Five shillings to the wretch that catches that ungrateful hag!"

"What did he say?"

"Eh?"

"'Over there, the man at the window! He said five shillings to the lucky bastard that catches her!"

Little pattering feet pounded in a frenzy of sudden surprised movement. The sounds of four became six, six became eight, and the tykes passed the intoxicating message from one shrieking maw to the next; a dangling fish, rapidly torn to enthusiastic scraps.

"Five shillings! Five, he says!

She ran as though her very life depended on it- which was, the thought flitted through her mind, not entirely far from the truth. Her boots slapped at the pavement and muck, an abhorrent squelch ringing in her ears with every knoll of filth she plunged through. But there was no time to stop, no time to think: her lungs burned with an abominable inferno that worked its aching way from the inside out, squee