Chapter 91: Solution

The scenery started to distort, turning illusory and began to fade away.

After Klein left his dreamlike state, his vision adapted to the darkness

in the room.

He knew that with one pound and ten soli, which was thirty soli a week,

Benson didn't have an easy time supporting the family according to the

standards of an average family.

He had thought that the majority of workers earned twenty soli a week.

He had once heard Melissa remark that Lower Street of Iron Cross Street

had five, seven, or even ten families squeezing into the same room.

He also learned from Benson that as a result of the situation in the

Southern Continent, the kingdom's economy was in a recession for the

past few months.

He knew that a maid, with board and lodging provided, could earn between

three soli and sixpence to six soli a week.

Klein extended his hand and pinched his glabella. He was silent for a

long time, until Sir Deweyville asked, "Officer, aren't you going to say

anything? The psychiatrists I went to would always speak to me and ask

questions in such a situation.

"However, I must say that I feel at peace. I almost fell asleep. I

haven't heard any moans or cries yet.

"How did you do it?"

Klein leaned back in the rocking chair. Instead of providing an answer,

he asked with a gentle tone, "Sir, do you know about lead poisoning? Do

you know about the dangers of lead?"

Deweyville fell silent for a few seconds. "I did not know about it in

the past, but I do now. Are you telling me that my psychological illness

stems from my guilt---my guilt toward the female lead and porcelain

factory workers?"

Without waiting for Klein to answer, he continued just like he always

had---in his position of power during a negotiation.

"Yes, I did feel guilty about this in the past, but I did compensate

them. At my lead and porcelain factories, the workers do not earn less

than other workers in the same industry. In Backlund, lead and porcelain

workers are paid no more than eight soli a week, but I pay them ten,

sometimes even more.

"Heh, many people criticize me for breaking ranks since it makes it hard

for them to recruit workers. If not for the repeal of the Grain Act that

made many farmers bankrupt, sending them to the cities, they would have

had to raise their wages just like I did.

"Furthermore, I've also informed the supervisor of the factories to make

sure that those with repeated headaches and blurry vision are to leave

the areas where they are exposed to lead. If their illness is really

severe, then they can even ask for help at my charity foundation.

"I think I have done enough."

Klein spoke without a ripple of emotion in his voice, "Sir, at times,

you cannot imagine how important a salary is to a poor person. Simply

losing work for a week or two can result in an irreversible loss to

their family, a loss that would cause tremendous grief."

He paused before saying, "I am curious, why wouldn't a kind person like

you install equipment that can protect against dust and lead poisoning

in your factories?"

Deweyville looked at the ceiling and laughed ruefully.

"That would make my costs too high for me to bear. I would no longer be

able to compete with other lead and porcelain companies. I no longer pay

too much attention to my profits in these areas of my business. In fact,

I am even willing to fork out some money. But what's the point of

keeping the business if I have to keep doing that? That can only help a

number of workers and not become a standard in the industry or effect

change on other factories.

"That would merely result in me forking out money to support the

workers. I heard that some factories even secretly hire slaves to

minimize costs."

Klein crossed his hands and said after a moment of silence, "Sir, the

root of your psychological illness comes from the buildup of guilt,

despite you believing that the guilt has faded and disappeared over

time. It wouldn't have any visible effects under normal circumstances,

but there was something that triggered you and set off all the problems

at once."

"Something that triggered me? I'm not aware of such a thing," Deweyville

said puzzled, but with conviction.

Klein allowed the chair to rock gently as he explained with a gentle

tone, "You did fall asleep for a few minutes just now, and you told me

something."

"Hypnosis?" Deweyville made a guess as he usually did.

Klein did not give a direct reply and instead said, "You once saw a girl

dying on her way to work while you were on your carriage. She had died

because of lead poisoning. She was one of your workers who glazed

porcelain while she was still alive."

Deweyville rubbed his temples, speechless before saying somewhat

doubtful, "I think that happened once... but I can't remember it

clearly..."

His prolonged insomnia had left him in a poor mental state. He could

only faintly recall seeing such a scene.

He thought for a moment, but gave up taxing his brain. Instead, he

asked, "What was that worker's name?

"Well, what I meant was, what should I do to cure my psychological

illness?"

Klein replied immediately, "Two things."

"First, the worker that died by the side of the road was called Hayley

Walker. That was what you told me. She was the most direct trigger, so

you have to find her parents and give them more compensation.

"Second, spread information about the dangers of lead in the newspapers

and magazines. Allow your charity foundation to help more workers who

suffered from the damage. If you succeed in becoming a member of

parliament, push for enacting laws in this domain."

Deweyville sat up slowly and laughed in a self-deprecating manner.

"I will do all of the rest, but to enact a law, heh--- I think it's

impossible since there is still competition from nations beyond our

country. Setting up such a law would just slip the entire industry in

the country into a crisis. Factories would become bankrupt one by one,

and many workers would lose their jobs. Organizations that help the poor

cannot save that many people."

He slowly got off the bed and adjusted his collar. He then looked at

Klein and said, "Hayley Walker, right? I'll immediately get Cullen to

retrieve information about her from the porcelain company and find her

parents. Officer, please wait with me and continuously evaluate my

mental state."

"Alright." Klein stood up slowly and smoothed his black-and-white

checkered police uniform.

At eleven in the morning in the living room of Deweyville.

Klein sat on the sofa in silence as he looked at the man and woman being

guided into the house by Butler Cullen.

The two guests had blemished skin, wrinkles already woven into their

faces. The man had a slight hunch while the woman had a mole under her

eyelid.

They looked nearly identical to what Klein had seen through Hayley, just

older and more haggard. They were so skinny that they were almost all

bone. Their clothes were old and ragged. Klein even learned that they

couldn't continue living on Lower Street of Iron Cross Streets any

further.

Sob...

Klein sensed an icy wind start to spiral through his spiritual

perception.

He pinched his glabella and shot a glance toward Sir Deweyville. It was

unknown when a faint white, translucent, contorted figure had appeared

behind him.

"Good-good morning, Honorable Sir." Hayley's parents were unusually

polite.

Deweyville rubbed his forehead and asked, "Are the both of you Hayley

Walker's parents? Doesn't she also have a brother and a two-year-old

sister?"

Hayley's mother answered in fear, "Her-her brother broke his leg at the

harbor sometime back. We got him to take care of his sister at home."

Deweyville remained silent for a few seconds before he sighed.

"My deepest condolences for what happened to Hayley."

Upon hearing that, the eyes of Hayley's parents immediately turned red.

They opened their mouths and said over each other, "Thank-thank you for

your goodwill.

"The police told us-told us, that Hayley died from lead poisoning.

That's the term, right? Oh, my poor child, she was only seventeen. She

was always so quiet, so determined.

"You had sent someone to visit her before and sponsored her burial. She

is buried at the Raphael Cemetery."

Deweyville glanced at Klein and changed his sitting posture. He leaned

forward and said with a serious tone, "That was actually an oversight of

ours. I have to apologize."

"I have considered that I need to compensate you, to compensate Hayley.

Her weekly salary was ten soli, was it not? One year would be five

hundred and twenty soli, or twenty-six pounds. Let's assume that she

could have worked for another ten years.

"Cullen, give Hayley's parents three hundred pounds."

"Three-three hundred pounds?" Hayley's parents were dumbfounded.

They never had more than one pound of savings, even at their richest!

It wasn't only them who were dazed. Even the expressions of the

bodyguards and maids in the room were also all that of shock and envy.

Even Sergeant Gate couldn't help but draw in a deep breath---his weekly

salary was only two pounds and among his subordinates, only one

chevroned constable earned one pound a week.

Amidst the silence, Butler Cullen walked out of the study and held a

bulging sack.

He opened the sack and revealed stacks of cash, some one pound, some

five pounds, but mostly made up of one or five soli.

It was clear that Deweyville had made his subordinates receive "change"

from the bank earlier.

"It's an expression of Sir Deweyville's goodwill," Cullen handed the

sack over to Hayley's parents after receiving confirmation from his

master.

Hayley's parents took the sack and rubbed their eyes, looking at it in

disbelief.

"No, this-this is too generous, we cannot accept this," they said as

they held the sack tightly.

Deweyville said in a deep voice, "This is what Hayley deserves."

"Y-you truly are a noble, charitable knight!" Hayley's parents bowed

repeatedly in agitation.

They had smiles on their faces, smiles that they couldn't repress.

They praised the knight repeatedly, repeating the same few adjectives

they knew. They kept insisting that Hayley would be grateful towards him

in heaven.

"Cullen, send them home. Oh, take them to the bank first," Deweyville

heaved a sigh of relief and instructed his butler.

Hayley's parents hugged the sack tightly and walked toward the door

quickly without stopping.

Klein saw the faint translucent figure behind Sir Deweyville attempt to

extend its hands towards them, hoping to leave with them, but the

parents' smiles were abnormally radiant. They didn't turn back.

That figure turned fainter and, soon, vanished completely.

Klein also sensed that the icy feeling in the guest hall had instantly

returned to normal.

From beginning to end, all he did was sit there silently, not expressing

his opinion.

"Officer, I feel much better. Now can you tell me why my butler,

servants, and bodyguards could also hear the cries and moans? This

shouldn't just be solely a psychological illness of mine, right?"

Deweyville looked at him curiously.

Inspector Tolle, who knew the underlying truth, instantly became

nervous.

Klein replied without much expression, "In psychology, we call this

phenomenon---mass hysteria."