shadow of britain

Chapter 739 I Have Feelings for Scotland Yard

At Scotland Yard, the real question was never who was right or wrong, but who was left standing at the end. Although it wasn't my home, I did leave everything there when I was young.

--Arthur Hastings, Fifty Years of Life

Arthur did not sit down immediately, but still stood by the window: "I was wondering, sir, how did you survive these two and a half years. The position of director was not easy to sit in these two years. You had to withstand the contempt from above and the dissatisfaction from below. But you are really much tougher than most people."

Luo Wan didn't respond, he just changed the cigar to the other hand and continued smoking.

"I read the newspaper this morning." Arthur finally sat down and took a cigar from Rowan's cigar box with familiarity. "There was a fire at the West India Dock. The report said that a few drunks accidentally set fire to the warehouse while smoking. But I heard from my friends that at least three police officers were attacked at the scene of the fire. The weapons used by the thugs were polished shovels and hammers."

He paused for a moment and looked up at Luo Wan: "This is not a coincidence. We all know this is not a coincidence."

Rowan lowered his head and pressed the cigar butt into the ashtray. He remained silent, still waiting.

"I'm not saying this to question you," Arthur said, his voice softening. "But I'm really curious about what you think of the Home Office's attitude toward Scotland Yard."

Arthur asked very politely, but Rowan snorted coldly and put the teacup on the table: "Do you think I don't see the purpose of your coming today? You have been testing me since the moment you walked in."

Rowan's tone was not fierce, but every word he said was very serious: "Arthur, I know you are not happy in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and I know you have seen a lot of new things in Paris. But you have to understand that this is London, not the old royal city of Bourbon. The place under your feet is Scotland Yard founded by Sir Robert Peel, not the Grand Paris Police Department under Joseph Fouché."

Arthur lit the fire and laughed, "I did see a lot in Paris. You know, the chief of police in Paris is appointed by the king himself, and the French Ministry of the Interior only cooperates. Their investigating judges and plainclothes teams can mobilize a whole street of police officers at any time, and they can even use the power of the National Guard if they want. For them, tracking down a union leader and arresting a few radicals, haha... it's as easy as walking a dog."

He paused, his tone suddenly becoming sharp: "What about us? We have to look at the face of the magistrate to sign an arrest warrant. For every budget, we have to stand in front of the Ministry of Internal Affairs for several hours with the report. After finally making them happy, we have to go to the Ministry of Finance to get a cold shoulder."

Luo Wan tapped the table lightly with his fingers with a gloomy face, and still did not speak.

"You are still at your post, so it is not convenient for you to say many things. I understand that...but..."

Arthur leaned forward, his tone high and powerful: "I am not satisfied! Did you hear me? I am not satisfied! Not only as a Londoner, but also as a retired police officer who once fought on the front line in Scotland Yard. I was injured three times in Scotland Yard. Once I lay in bed for a week, once my eyes were opened by explosion fragments, and once I lay in a coffin! The honor I fought so hard to protect was actually trampled into the mud like garbage! I am not satisfied with the Ministry of Internal Affairs' long-term indifference to Scotland Yard, I am not satisfied with them treating us as replaceable and exploitable tools, and I am even more dissatisfied with them attributing the stability of the entire London to parliamentary reforms, but they keep silent about who rushed into the assembly site at three in the morning to carry out arrests, who did not retreat a step in the face of armed thugs on the street, and who the hell was it who faced stones, knives and bullets, still in uniform and with a baton, and held on to the last moment of his life!"

Hearing this, Rowan slammed the table, and the aura of a veteran of the Peninsular War seemed to return to him: "Do you think I didn't get angry after the Cold Bath incident? There is no shortage of people with temper in this world, but there is a shortage of people who can solve problems! Carley is a good guy, and there are no cowards in Scotland Yard, but you have to understand that we are the police, not the army. If we open fire at will when we encounter a riot, then what do you think is the point of setting up Scotland Yard? If you still hold yourself to the moral standards of a police officer, then tell me what Article 6 of the Police Instructions is!"

When Arthur heard Rowan's question, he did not get angry. Instead, he responded in a serious tone: "Only when persuasion, advice and warnings are ineffective, the police may use necessary physical force to encourage the public to abide by the law or restore order."

"Then stand down, Officer Hastings!"

But Arthur did not stand up. He just sat upright, as if he was back three years ago, back to the conference room where he had hosted police meetings countless times, and the conference room was full of senior police officers who were trembling with fear waiting for their reports.

"I'm sorry, Rowan." Arthur leaned back in his chair, one hand on the armrest and the other holding a cigar. "Officer Hastings, who will leave as ordered, died in 1832, just like Officer Culley who was buried last year."

Rowan stared at him. At that moment, the anger in his eyes seemed to be obscured by the cigar smoke, and seemed to be suppressed by something deeper.

He leaned back in his chair and stopped banging the table and yelling.

Rowan just took a deep breath, and then slowly, as if admitting, but also as if tired: "You have changed, Arthur."

"You too." Arthur didn't look at Rowan, he just stared at the smoke rising from his cigar. "I thought you would seek justice for Carli, just like you did for me."

"How do you know I didn't?" Rowan pursed his lips, as if he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He picked up the matchbox, but there was not a single match left in it. He angrily crumpled the matchbox into a ball and threw it out of the window: "Napoleon's artillery should have aimed more accurately! If I had been killed by a cannon at Waterloo, I wouldn't have to worry about these trivial matters!"

Arthur chuckled when he heard this. "What you said actually proves a joke I heard in Paris. The Bonapartists in Paris all said that Napoleon lost at Waterloo that year because of bad weather. If the rain had been heavier, you and I wouldn't have to waste our time in this room today."

Rowan tapped the table with his knuckles, and after a moment's silence, he finally spoke in a low voice: "I also want to seek justice for Cali. I checked the regulations, summoned witnesses, organized an investigation, petitioned the higher authorities, and requested the Ministry of the Interior to make a public statement... I did everything. I'm not seeking credit for it. It was only natural for the House of Commons Special Investigation Committee to revoke the murderer's not guilty verdict. However, if I hadn't done these things, even after the House of Commons investigation was over, they would not have been able to overturn Cali's verdict."

"When I was young, I was the same as you." Luo Wan paused, "I couldn't stand being wronged or being insulted. But later I realized that if you always expect justice to fall from the sky, you will never see the light in your life."

At this point, Luo Wan pulled out a drawer from the table, took out a neatly folded letter and handed it over. The corners of the envelope were slightly curled, and it was obvious that it had been read countless times.

"This was written to me by Carleigh's widow. I asked her what she wanted me to do. She didn't ask for compensation or a medal. She just said one thing: as long as everyone knows that Carleigh is an upright person, that's enough."

Arthur did not open the letter. Although he and Rowan were not friends, he knew very well that Rowan was an old-school soldier and he would never lie to him about such a thing.

In particular, Arthur visited Carley's widow a few days ago and gave her family a sum of condolence money.

Of course, Arthur did not say that the money came from his own pocket, but claimed that it was distributed by the government.

Arthur whispered, "So you just endured it?" "No, I didn't." Rowan said, "I did everything I could, but I didn't tell anyone. It's not because I was afraid they would know, but because I knew that if I told them, they would only be more disappointed. Scotland Yard doesn't belong to me alone, it's built with the blood and sweat of you, me and countless others. This department was not easy to come by, and although there are some unsatisfactory aspects, you and I know that Scotland Yard and everyone in it are playing a role that far exceeds the expectations of the government and the public."

Arthur nodded slightly when he heard this and said, "This is especially valuable considering that the average annual salary of our police officers is less than 50 pounds."

Luo Wan couldn't help but spit: "And this is the result after a 25% salary increase."

The anger that had been accumulating in the room for a long time seemed to be slowly diluted by the cigar smoke.

Arthur took out a matchbox from his pocket and threw it to Rowan: "To be honest, after today's chat, I don't hate you so much for your little tricks on my territory."

Rowan was furious and glanced at Arthur: "A small move? Maybe. After all, in your eyes, filing a case against a congressman is not a big move."

Arthur chuckled. "But don't be too complacent. I don't plan to leave until you have fully fulfilled your promise to Carley's widow."

Arthur's tone was calm, but every word was sharp: "You said that Carley's widow only wanted others to know that her husband was an upright man. But what did Fleet Street write? Don't say you have forgotten. At least outside of Scotland Yard, it seems that most people think that his death was 'deserved'."

Rowan frowned, holding the cigar between his fingers, the ashes falling onto the crimson felt tablecloth, but he was completely unaware.

"The Commons inquiry cleared him of the charges, but it did not redeem his reputation," Arthur continued. "You will read the files, but public opinion will not, and does not care about the conclusions of the Commons inquiry. They just follow the crowd. Londoners only remember the first few headlines printed in ink and blood. To them, Carley is still a failed butcher, a fuse that triggered the riot, and a cop who is not worth mourning."

This time, Luo Wan rarely objected. He smoked in silence. The thick smoke was silent for a long time, and suddenly his hoarse voice came out: "What do you want to do?"

"Simple." Arthur pulled out a piece of letter paper and pushed it on the table. "Empire Publishing Company will complete its initial public offering next quarter, and I am one of their board members. We have The Times and The Brit, and perhaps starting next month we will have another magazine with a huge circulation."

"You want to use newspapers to vindicate Carley?" Rowan was skeptical. As an old-school police officer, he hated these print media from Fleet Street.

"It's not 'use', it's 'create'." Arthur said, "Public opinion is like water. Where it flows depends on where we dig the ditch. As long as you can ensure that Scotland Yard cooperates with my actions, I can restore the honor that Carley deserves."

"What are you going to write?"

Arthur paused. "Have you heard about the undisclosed theft at Kensington Palace?"

Luo Wan was startled: "What theft case?"

"An ivory and silver writing box, given by George IV to Princess Victoria." Arthur said slowly, "Such a small thing can keep the whole Kensington Palace awake at night. Fortunately, I found it in a maritime house in Greenwich not long ago, intact."

"Then why are you telling me?" Rowan stared at Arthur, a hint of wariness in his eyes.

"Because I want to write a 'legacy' for Carly." Arthur tapped the table with his fingers. "I want to tell the citizens of London: It was a secret file on the theft gang left by Officer Carly that provided the key clues that allowed this royal theft case to be solved."

Luo Wan frowned and said, "You are making up a story."

"That's right, but is Fleet Street's slander of Carley the truth?" Arthur nodded without hesitation: "At least I made up a good story, a story that will make all of London and even the royal family recognize Carley again, a story that will make his wife and children hold their heads up and walk into the church. Didn't you say that she only wanted to 'let everyone know that he is an upright man'? Now, not only is he upright, he is also brave, smart, loyal, and even died with honors."

The room was silent for a long time, with only the faint sound of burning cigars echoing in the winter air.

"You are... tampering with the truth." Luo Wan's voice was low, but his tone was no longer angry.

"In our line of work, we never rely on facts alone. We rely on people's 'belief' in facts. And this belief can be shaped. Taking this opportunity, I can organize newspapers to rediscover the events of last year's Cold Bath incident and use falsehoods to create opportunities for the truth to come to light. This is good for Carley and Scotland Yard. If all goes well, we can even rebuild Scotland Yard's good image."

Luo Wan stared at him. He neither agreed nor disagreed. He just stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the street corner outside, at the young policeman who was shivering in the cold wind but still insisted on standing guard.

After a long moment, he nodded slowly.

"If you can really do that..." he began, "then try it. But I warn you, Arthur, if you have ill intentions towards Scotland Yard, I will not be as polite as Viscount Palmerston."

"I don't deny that I have made deals with Scotland Yard, but I can swear to God that I have a clear conscience for every deal, because every deal of mine has benefited my old department." Arthur stood up and said, "This is my old battlefield. I just want to make up for my fallen comrades and fire the last shot. I don't need you to write a letter of support, nor do I need you to stand on the platform. You just need to shut up for a week and pretend that you know nothing."

"Keep quiet for a week? That's a luxurious suggestion." Rowan snorted, his voice so low that it was almost inaudible: "When you were in Scotland Yard, if I didn't speak for a week, you could cause unrest in the whole of London."

Arthur did not respond directly, but simply repeated: "Seven days."

"Seven days." Luo Wan repeated in the same way: "Within seven days, you can make up whatever you want, just don't let anyone catch you. After seven days, I won't ask you how you did it, but if things go too far, don't blame me for being ruthless."

(End of this chapter)