Chapter 157: Unorganized Crime

Chapter 156 Unorganized Crime

On the rickety carriage, Arthur’s arms held the case containing the phonograph.

And in his hand, he cupped a freshly recorded, round record made of tin and wax as well as wooden boards.

The record was nowhere near as expensive or as delicate as the thousands of dollars a piece of vinyl in the latter days, but its lifespan was uncharacteristically short and astonishingly short.

According to Wheatstone’s estimation, the sound quality of this record, which he had improvised, might not be guaranteed after about twenty plays.

Although he was confident of making a better one, it was certainly too late to bring it out in time for Sunday’s dinner party.

But even such a shoddy piece of rushed work was enough to surprise Arthur, after all, he had originally thought it would be good enough for Wheatstone to get the phonograph into shape in just a week’s time.

But he obviously underestimated Charles Wheatstone’s attainments in acoustics, as well as the hands-on ability and creativity of this young British scientist from a family of musical instruments to combine new inventions with musical instruments.

Elder, who was sitting opposite him, was still in the grip of the shock he had felt when the phonograph first played a piano tune.

“This …… this is really a great invention! To actually be able to seal the human voice, God, I used to think that maybe only God could do this.”

Elder muttered, “With this phonograph, I’m afraid musicians will be out of a job from now on, right?”

Arthur returned, “Instead of worrying about musicians, you should worry more about your next sea training.”

Elder raised an eyebrow, “Arthur, then again, I knew you knew about art, but what I didn’t know was that you boys could fucking play the piano, when did you learn this stuff?”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil sitting by the car window.

Agares had traded in a black tuxedo from somewhere, and the Red Devil was humming a little tune, his eyes were closed, and his arm was swinging like a whip, as if he wasn’t sitting on the window of the car, but standing in the Golden Hall of Vienna at the moment.

Arthur sighed, “Would you believe me if I said I just learned?”

Elder was full of disbelief, “Come on, Arthur, if you can play to this extent after just learning it, then it only shows that your musical talent is unattainable. When Britain’s song ‘Wellington’s Victory’, which commemorates the victory at the Battle of Victoria, was first written, it shouldn’t have cost a lot of money to go to Vienna to get Beethoven to compose it, but instead should have gone straight to you in the Yorkshire countryside.”

Arthur sniffed and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, “That wouldn’t do.”

“Why?”

Arthur spoke, “Because playing the piano can be too much for a person. Elder, the Battle of Victoria was in 1813 as I recall, I was three years old, and a three year old can’t do this kind of big business.”

Eldad bristled, “Doesn’t everything take a bit of work? But then, not being a musician doesn’t seem like a big deal. You’re a superintendent of Scotland Yard at a young age, you live in a small detached six-bedroom, two-bathroom house next to Hyde Park, and even General Codrington has to invite you to his parties. When you do the math like that, it seems like the average twenty year old musician, compared to you, is generally not doing well in the mix.”

Elder said this, picking up his pipe to himself, crossed his legs and began to care about Arthur’s relationship.

“At the age of 20, it may be a bit early to get married, but you have to think about it. If you climb up to a young lady from a rich and noble family, you can take advantage of the momentum of the other family to soar.”

Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but snicker, “Elder, that doesn’t sound like you. Didn’t you always say in the past that you wanted to break into a world on your own? It’s only been a year or so, and your life course has flipped upside down. It’s not even a problem that the ‘Royal Navy Bloodline’ in your body has awakened, but now you’re even planning to find a partner with both wealth and background?”

Who knew that Elder didn’t care about these things at all as he spoke, “Arthur, you don’t understand that you have to seize the opportunities that should be seized. You have organized so many big cases in Scotland Yard, if the same merit is put on a nobleman, maybe this moment has been transferred to the Ministry of the Interior as an official. But you still stay in Scotland Yard, this shows what? It shows that you still lack background.

Besides, even if you don’t like it, you can still play along. London’s social circles are full of people who have risen through the ranks by playing this game.”

Arthur saw that he had a ‘young man don’t be too young’ expression, so he matched it and asked, “Are all the upper class social circles in London playing this kind of thing?”

As expected, as soon as Elder heard this, it was as if he had been hit with chicken blood.

He whispered, “You’re asking the right person. Let me ask you, do you know General Nelson’s mistress – Mrs. Hamilton Emma Hart?
Arthur felt something familiar as soon as he heard this name, as if the Red Devil had mentioned it to him before, “Just a little heard of it.”

Elder saw that he didn’t know, and was suddenly excited to introduce it.

“Mrs. Hamilton is one of the legends in London’s upper class social circle. Mrs. Hamilton was originally an ordinary commoner, her father was a blacksmith, her mother was a maid, she herself originally did jobs such as odd jobs and nannies, and she was even almost cheated by a man into becoming a prostitute.

But her fate was turned around when she met Lord Charles Grenville, who saw her beauty and brought her home, taught her all kinds of high-society dress, behavior, and even invited someone to give her an education in literature and art. In Lord Grenville’s cultivation, Emma Hart first appeared in the social banquet will be a hit, not long after she became the circle recognized as ‘England’s first beauty’.

Just when everyone thought that Emma Hart would be with Lord Grenville, Mr. Lord actually transferred her to his uncle, Sir William Hamilton, in order to pay off his high debts, and Emma naturally became Mrs. Hamilton.”

Hearing this, Arthur frowned, “But how did she get involved with General Nelson?”

Elder returned, “That’s because Sir Hamilton became the British Minister to Naples at the time, so naturally Emma went along. She made good use of the social skills she had learned in London and soon became a favorite of the Neapolitan high society of the time.

And at this time, General Nelson had just defeated the French Navy at the mouth of the Nile in Egypt and was promoted to the command of the Mediterranean Fleet, and the two fell in love at first sight in Naples, and their relationship developed by leaps and bounds. And instead of rebuking them, Sir Hamilton was gracious enough to return to London with them both.”

Arthur’s eyes jumped when he heard this, “Are you sure? I know that having a mistress or something isn’t considered rare these days, but I’m afraid that not many Britons can accept this kind of behavior when it’s made public, right?

After all, our old king George IV who just passed away was attacked by public opinion every day when he wanted to get divorced, and even the parliamentarians were all angry for Queen Caroline.

Nelson and Emma’s matter, even if Sir Hamilton didn’t care, didn’t the London broadsheets and tabloids attack them?”

Elder said disdainfully, “If someone else had done that, they would have had to be trampled into the mud. But it was Horatio Nelson, the soul of the Royal Navy! If Admiral Nelson is still alive, I’m afraid that even the Duke of Wellington wouldn’t be able to securely suppress him, so how can our former king’s majesty compare to him?”

Arthur asked, “And after the Battle of Trafalgar? Without Nelson, I’m afraid Mrs. Hamilton won’t end up too well.”

Elder nodded, “That makes you guess right. Before the Battle of Trafalgar, Admiral Nelson could still be considered a human being, but after dying in battle at Trafalgar, he has become a kind of hero symbol of Britain. This kind of hero obviously can’t be tainted in any way, so for the sake of Nelson’s reputation, Mrs. Hamilton was soon abandoned by London’s social circle, everyone treated her as air, and her name and experience became a kind of taboo that can’t be spoken.”

Arthur asked, “So it wasn’t a failure? What are you doing mentioning her to me?”

“There are successes!”

Elder spoke, “There’s no more typical female success story than Harriet Wilson, who knocked it out of the park in high society by maintaining lovers’ relationships with a bunch of people. Even when she retired, she continued to serialize her past love affairs in the newspapers.

As long as those old lovers didn’t pay, she would expose their names and quirks in her love history. And if the money was right, she would even sing their praises.

And there has been no more successful male case in recent years than Henry Temple, Viscount Palmerston. Although there is no hard evidence, I am told by so many people that Viscount Palmerston had affairs with at least three of the ladies in the seven main patrons of the Ormac Club.

If it weren’t for the help of these ladies, it would have been completely impossible for Viscount Palmerston to mix so well in social circles and politics, and to have been accepted into the Whig Party immediately after breaking away from the Tories.”

The great name of the ‘Ormac Club’, Arthur had heard of it long ago, and as for the honorable name of ‘Viscount Palmerston’, it was written in the textbooks, so that he couldn’t even think of not learning it.

Suddenly interested, he opened his mouth and asked: ”Can you tell me the inner story in detail? For example, the seven female patrons of the Ormac Club, or perhaps Palmerston.”

When Elder heard this, he thought that Arthur had figured it out, and he patted Arthur’s shoulder with relief, “Arthur, you finally understand that if you want to be a big shot, you can’t rely on yourself alone.”

“Of course.” Arthur smiled and patted the box he was holding in his arms, “Relying on myself alone definitely won’t work, I still have to rely on recordings.”

Elder froze at his words, “Recordings? What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Arthur smiled back, “Eldad, you don’t think the phonograph was invented just to deal with a dinner party, or maybe to listen to a piece of music, do you? If possible, I’d like it to be a powerful tool in our fight against organized crime at Scotland Yard, aka the LPS.”

Elder was shocked by Arthur’s thoughts, “Arthur, you don’t think of the Whig and Tory MPs as organized crime, do you?”

Arthur sniffed and didn’t respond positively, he just gave a slight shrug and smiled back, “Elder, our duties also include fighting against unorganized crime.”

While the carriage that Arthur and Elder rode in faded away, Charles Wheatstone stood in front of the store and lingered for a long time without leaving.

Only the sunlight sprinkled on Wheatstone’s face, and he covered his sweat-stained forehead with a look of disbelief, “My God! What in the world was that thing that Mr. Hastings played just now?”

(End of chapter)