shadow of britain

Chapter 722 Bastard Hastings

"Sir, here comes Mr. Fagin."

Arthur took his eyes off the Times and took out his pocket watch. The hour hand pointed to eight o'clock. Fagin was quite punctual.

Fagin stood straight at the door. Although his long-term bent back still made him look a little hunched, his natural and kind smile under the drooping hat brim made him look like a common old-fashioned old man in the West End.

Behind him was a young woman in a gray skirt.

Her face was pale, and she lowered her head, not daring to look directly at anyone in the room.

It can be seen that this girl is not a repeat offender, otherwise she wouldn't be so nervous about selling something.

Look at Fagin beside her. The retired maritime shop owner has specially changed into a proper gentleman's outfit today.

The dark woolen coat was so neat that there was hardly a wrinkle. Although the material was a little old, it was obvious that the clothes were well taken care of. Even the buttons were shining with a glossy golden luster, which made it look particularly exquisite. With the mahogany cane, white shirt and top hat, even if Fagin suddenly said "Praise my Lord", it would not feel out of place.

Becky stood in front of the door, but her eyes paused slightly when the young woman appeared.

She frowned slightly, as if she felt familiar with the woman, but couldn't remember where she had been before. It was not until the woman lowered her head and walked into the room cautiously that a trace of surprise suddenly flashed in Becky's eyes.

"Lizzie?" Becky blurted out automatically, with a look of surprise on her face.

Lizzie's body stiffened suddenly, obviously frightened by Becky's voice.

She looked up hurriedly, a trace of panic flashed across her face, and her mouth moved slightly, but nothing came out.

Becky didn't notice her mood change. Instead, she walked forward with a smile and said excitedly, "Oh my God, Lizzie! I didn't expect to see you here! I haven't seen you for so long. How are you doing? I've been very busy recently and haven't been to the reading club for almost a month. How are you doing over there?"

Lizzie's eyes flickered, and she forced a smile, even her voice was trembling: "I... I'm fine, thank you, Miss Becky. The reading club... everything is fine."

Becky talked to her happily: "That's great! Lizzie, you know, every time I hear you read the articles at the book club, I feel very benefited! You are really a very smart and talented girl."

Then, she turned to look at Arthur and happily introduced Lizzie, "Sir, this is Miss Lizzie. She is a very popular lady in our reading club. There are many maids in the reading club, but she must be the most capable one among us. After all, she works for the royal family."

As she spoke, she subconsciously patted Lizzie's shoulder, completely unaware that Lizzie's body had already been as tense as a clockwork gear.

Lizzie's face turned as white as a sheet of paper. She opened her mouth, wanting to deny what Becky said: "I, I... am not..."

However, before she could finish her words, she heard Becky's voice interrupting her like a torrent.

"Why are you visiting Sir Arthur today? Were you sent by the royal family? Did the bigwigs finally remember Sir Arthur's contributions and want to transfer him back to Scotland Yard, um... or other departments in Whitehall, such as the Foreign Office?"

Lizzie clenched her hands and her heart beat violently for a few times, as if it was about to jump out of her chest.

Her mind suddenly cleared up, and she suddenly remembered Becky's various "nonsense" performances at the book club.

Although the scale of the reading club they attended was not large, the maids who could afford such unnecessary expenses could not be ordinary washerwomen. Although they did not belong to the upper class, they still developed the bad habit of comparing with each other among the upper class.

Therefore, the social status of a maid in the reading club is determined by the family she serves and the position she holds in the family.

The most respected among the maids are definitely the housekeepers, who manage the living room maids who serve tea and water to guests, the storage room maids who are responsible for disinfecting and storing food and keeping porcelain, and the household maids who are responsible for cleaning the rooms.

The second is the cook. Due to the high degree of specialization, the cook is usually not restricted by the housekeeper, and other maids cannot interfere. The cook also usually manages the kitchen maid and the dishwasher maid.

Finally, there are the personal maids, who are not managed by the housekeeper, but directly by the mistress. Due to their special status, they not only have to help the mistress dress and wash, and warm her bed before bed, but also have to be familiar with current fashion and help the mistress to show her best manners in front of the world. Therefore, they naturally have the need to read and learn, and personal maids also account for the highest proportion in reading clubs.

As for other types of maids, due to their low salary, heavy workload and no days off, you will hardly see them in book clubs.

Of course, not all maids would be as foolish as Becky to reveal all their secrets. In order to maintain their vanity, it was not uncommon for personal maids to lie that they were housekeepers.

But even if Becky was telling the truth, it didn't stop the maids from thinking she was lying.

Becky's outspokenness often made her a laughing stock in the eyes of the other maids in the reading club.

Although she didn't realize it, the maids had already begun to distrust Becky privately.

According to their words, it was: "Does she think she can deal with diplomats? A country girl doesn't understand this industry. At most, she is just a maid in a middle-class family. It is impossible for her to get in touch with such a high circle."

Her self-congratulatory attitude often made them think that she was just a country girl who had just come to the city and wanted to embellish her life with upper-class fantasies.

Any housekeeper who can serve an aristocratic family can be seen at first glance to have an excellent temperament and outstanding abilities.

Not to mention, Becky was bragging about her family as a diplomat, who attached great importance to aristocratic communication and etiquette standards.

By hiring such a young girl who doesn't know etiquette, is the diplomat trying to show his amateur attitude towards diplomatic work?
All in all, the reading club maids are quite insightful.

After all, in the eyes of colleagues at 15 Downing Street and Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston, Becky's employer was indeed quite amateur in diplomatic work.

However, this does not prevent him from being a professional cop.

"I...I..." Lizzie was so anxious that she couldn't speak. Her steps began to become unstable, as if everything was starting to get out of control.

How could she have imagined that everything Becky said was true.

Sir Arthur Hastings, former British Cultural Counselor to Russia, has served as the Kingdom of Hanover's Special State Representative and Academic Director at the University of Göttingen, advisor on constitutional reform of the 1833 Constitution of the Kingdom of Hanover, and most importantly, Assistant Commissioner of Police of the Greater London Police, Commissioner of Police Intelligence of London, Deputy Chief Public Prosecutor of the London District Attorney's Office and police representative.

Becky didn't know many words, but that didn't stop her from memorizing the titles on Arthur's business cards.

Lizzie looked at old Fagin beside her in panic, but the "old crow" who knew what was going on was very calm this time.

This was not the first time he had worked with Arthur, and he was familiar with the working style of this fallen "rising star in the police force." The name Arthur Hastings still had some credibility in the London underworld.

"Please take a seat." Arthur raised his hand and ordered, "Becky, prepare some refreshments for the two guests."

Old Fagin looked at the decoration of the house seriously. The old man who was used to living in the "luxury house" of St. Giles said enviously: "It's really magnificent. You spent a lot of money on this house, didn't you?"

Arthur did not hide the real price of this "social security housing" provided by the Rothschild family: "It's not particularly expensive. I didn't even spend 900 pounds when I bought it."

"Four hundred pounds?" Fagin's eyes widened. "Well... well, you're really lucky. I thought a house like this would cost at least a thousand pounds..."

Arthur chuckled and said, "I've always been lucky. Cheap things always come to me. For example, this house, and for example... this writing box..."

Arthur's eyes were fixed on the ivory writing-box on the table, but Lizzie always felt as if he was looking at her.

For a moment, she almost had the urge to pick up her writing box and leave.

As a servant who had been dealing with the royal family for many years, how could Lizzie not know how sick these gentlemen and ladies in the upper class were in their study of aristocratic heraldry? Not to mention the famous royal heraldry, even the aristocratic families that had been extinct for hundreds of years could not escape their eyes.

But to Lizzie's surprise, the lord with a pair of sharp eagle eyes did not seem to discover the secret hidden in this unknown writing box. "Miss Lizzie, right?"

"Yes, sir." Lizzie fidgeted and pinched the hem of her skirt.

Arthur subconsciously wanted to light his cigar, but suddenly realized that there was a lady present. He paused for a moment and put the cigar back. "I heard about your brother from Fagin before. I'm sorry to hear about his unfortunate experience. Is he doing well now?"

Lizzie couldn't help but shed tears when she thought of her brother. "My brother...he...he worked in a shipyard...he was a decent young man. That day, he tried to pull out the wood stuck in the machine, but the machine was spinning too fast and he couldn't react in time. His finger was almost completely crushed. The doctor said that it was fortunate that he was brought to the hospital in time, otherwise it might not be as simple as amputation."

As a senior police officer who had been in charge of Tower Hamlets, where the West India Docks were located, Arthur certainly knew the character of the shipyards in his jurisdiction.

As for whether what Lizzie said was true or not, Arthur could naturally judge it.

The dockyards in the East End were one of the largest employers in London's industry, employing thousands of skilled workers such as coopers, ropemakers and carpenters who had regular jobs. But skilled workers only accounted for one-third of the people employed at the docks, and the remaining two-thirds were temporary workers who worked on a daily basis and did not perform any technical work, but simply sold their labor.

Every morning at 7:, you can see thousands of ragged workers gathered at the West India Docks, standing with their heads stretched out for hours just for the hundreds of temporary jobs provided by the shipyard.

In order to compete for the most conspicuous position, they often push each other and fights often occur.

Apart from the Thames Police and the Tower Hamlets patrolmen, the only people who could make peace with them were the shipyard foremen who came to recruit workers.

As soon as the foreman appears, there will be chaos on the dock, and then countless hands will be raised in the air one after another to attract his attention.

Everyone knew that this gentleman could bring work with just a nod.

Some would jump on others’ backs to tower over the others and attract the foreman’s attention, and everyone would shout loudly.

After the foreman has recruited enough workers, many of those who were not selected will still stand in the waiting area, hoping that in case a ship is late due to the tide, they will have a chance to do the work of porters.

This meant that hundreds of people were competing for six or seven jobs, but the wages offered were only 4 to 5 pence an hour.

Lizzie's brother was obviously an unlucky lucky guy. He finally managed to grab a job that day, but he encountered a work accident.

Investigating a worker who was injured at the West India Docks was obviously not an easy job, because there were accidents of varying sizes almost every day. Although Inspector Charles Field had tried very hard to find out the truth, the investigation time of a few days was still too tight.

Fortunately, Fagin had mentioned another clue before. Lizzie's brother lost his source of income due to a work-related injury, so he was locked up in the Sponge House (named after the house that could squeeze money out of debtors like a sponge) by his creditors. Later, because he really couldn't pay the money, he was prosecuted and locked up in the debtor's prison on Fleet Street.

In London, there are countless sponge houses that force people to pay debts. It is naturally not easy for Field to investigate. However, if he has been to the Fleet Prison, then it will be easy for Field to investigate.

Not only did Field find Lizzie's brother, but he also witnessed Lizzie picking up her brother from prison. He followed the clues and sent someone to follow Lizzie for several days to confirm the girl's true identity.

She was not a royal maid, but she did have some connection with the royal family.

Because her mistress was Charlotte Percy, Duchess of Northumberland, granddaughter of Robert Clive, Baron Clive, conqueror of India, and daughter of Edward Clive, Earl of Powys.

The Duchess of Northumberland was the governess who taught Princess Victoria aristocratic etiquette.

However, although the Duchess of Northumberland was also one of the governesses at Kensington Palace, it is obvious that you must not regard her as a governess of the same status as dancer Mary Taglioni, musician Luigi Labrache and others.

This is not only due to the Duchess of Northumberland's distinguished family background, but also because she is the Crown Prince's formally appointed tutor by the royal family and the government and has an official status.

Therefore, compared with other tutors, this lady was equivalent to a skilled worker in the shipyard, while Taglioni and others were temporary workers.

And inside Kensington Palace, there is another tutor with a special status like the Duchess of Northumberland, that is, Baroness Letzen of the Kingdom of Hanover.

However, Mrs. Letzen's identity is more complicated than that of the Duchess. Her greatest support does not come from the British royal family and government, but from Belgium. She can be regarded as the confidant of Princess Victoria's uncle, King Leopold I of Belgium.

The reason why Arthur did not rush to expose the matter of the ivory writing box was naturally because he took into account the special status of the Duchess of Northumberland.

Because her husband, Hugh Percy, Duke of Northumberland, was a moderate Tory, had a good personal relationship with Sir Robert Peel, and had served as Governor-General of Ireland in Wellington's cabinet from 1825 to 1826.

If Arthur had rashly let this matter slip, he would have accidentally "helped" the Duke of Wellington and Sir Peel to create the Tory version of the Caucasus incident.

Arthur's silence does not mean that he does not know that the "Caucasus Incident" he created out of desperation in Russia was very amateurish, and he also does not want to create a second major accident that would damage his professional image in a short period of time.

Therefore, for both public and private reasons, and for both emotional and logical reasons, Arthur must properly deal with this landmine that he dug up out of mischief.

Of course, if Lizzie cooperates, Arthur wants to use this incident to make trouble.

"Miss Lizzie, first of all, I must frankly say that your behavior is really too rash."

Arthur's voice was just right, calm without a trace of anger, but full of oppression: "I can understand your feelings, and I also understand that you do this for noble purposes. I know that you do this only out of love for your family and try your best to get some help for your brother, but you should also consider that if you let many noble people get involved because of a moment of recklessness, it will not only be irresponsible to your brother, but it may also put you in an irreparable predicament."

When Lizzie heard this, her face turned pale. Although Arthur spoke politely, the meaning of his words was obvious, and the former diplomat understood everything.

"Jazz...I..."

Seeing this, Arthur stood up with a serious expression and said, "If I detain you here, I believe you won't have any complaints, right?"

Lizzie bit her lip and lowered her head as if she had accepted her fate. Her shoulders trembled slightly and her eyes began to moisten: "I... have no complaints... but I hope you won't get involved..."

Old Fagin, who had read the script long ago, was also cooperating with the performance. The old thief stretched out his hand tremblingly and interrupted Lizzie: "Sir, but Miss Lizzie did this for a reason! Look, God! What has this world forced the poor to do?"

Arthur sensed Lizzie's guilt and nervousness. He paused, sighed, and even his tone became much gentler: "Alas... yes! If only I didn't know the ins and outs of the matter."

He adjusted his posture slightly and tapped his fingertips lightly on the table twice, as if struggling with something.

Finally, he just shook his head and said to Becky, "Go and get the letter from my bedroom desk."

Becky didn't understand why the relaxed atmosphere became so tense when she went to the kitchen to prepare tea. The usually talkative girl rarely kept her mouth shut and went upstairs to get the letter. "Sir, is this the letter? A letter to Mr. Marsden, professor of medicine at the University of London?"

Arthur did not explain, but pushed the letter in front of Lizzie: "You can take this letter and take your brother to the London Free General Hospital on Greville Street. After they receive the letter, they will arrange follow-up treatment for you."

Lizzie was stunned, and looked up at Arthur. She was stunned for a long time, and a trace of surprise appeared in her tearful eyes: "You... this... is this really okay?"

Arthur waved his hand gently. "I believe that not only me, but any capable and conscientious gentleman will lend a helping hand after learning of your unfortunate experience. For example, the Duke of Northumberland, that would have been the best solution for you."

At this point, Arthur put his hand on the writing box again: "After today, you haven't seen me, and I haven't seen you. As for this writing box, let's just pretend it never happened."

"But..." Lizzie was grateful to Arthur for his kindness, but she was also worried about his dilemma: "But how do you explain it to yourself?"

The naive girl thought that the theft of the writing box had been exposed and that Arthur was sent out to investigate the case.

How could Arthur, who has a dark heart and even darker hands, break this window paper?
An upright gentleman from Scotland Yard should let every girl he meets live in a fairy tale. Why pull them back to reality?
Arthur shook his head slightly without changing his expression. "Just remember what I said. As for the rest, leave it all to me. No matter what happens, don't reveal a word to others. Lizzie, remember, this is the only way to save your brother, and only this way can save you."

(End of this chapter)