Chapter 20: The Taste of Betrayal

Chapter 20: A Taste of Betrayal

Arthur followed Officer Dennis all the way as they made their way through the streets and raucous, noisy crowds of Greenwich Borough.

As time passed, Arthur noticed that there were fewer and fewer pedestrians on the road, and the street in front of him became narrower and narrower.

The sky overhead was beginning to be obscured by low, crowded shanties, and domestic sewage and excrement were everywhere on the wet tiles, the filth following the height of the ground all the way behind Arthur until it was dumped into the already overburdened River Thames.

The world was quiet, so quiet that Arthur could even hear the whistle on the Thames.

The world was noisy, too, so noisy that Arthur was so bloodied and dizzy that he couldn’t even tell the world apart, so much so that he wanted to bring up his fist and punch Dennis at his side.

He stood and stopped in front of the alley that was barely big enough for two people to pass side by side.

“Arthur, why don’t you, why don’t you go?”

Officer Dennis tried to act calm, but the sweat on his head had long since betrayed him.

Arthur fumbled for the new pipe in his pocket and held it in his mouth, but it didn’t light.

He didn’t say anything, but just looked at Dennis with eyes that had mixed meanings, some anger, some sadness, but most of all indifference that was heartbreaking to the core.

Dennis didn’t dare to meet his eyes, he just hung his head and stood there hunched over.

He was in a sorry state, not at all like an upright police officer, but like a prisoner who had been caught in flagrante delicto.

The weather today was overcast, but it didn’t rain.

That still didn’t stop something from dripping down Dennis’s chin to the ground, though.

Clean droplets of water dripped down his jaw into puddles of sewage on the floor tiles, stained with earthly filth so that one could no longer tell its original color.

Officer Dennis sucked in a single breath as if someone had stabbed him through a lung tube with a knife.

“I don’t want a reason, and I don’t deserve any. Yes, that’s right, I’m a coward, it’s in my nature. I’m not as good as Tony and Tom, and I’ll never catch up with you.”

Dennis took a deep breath, “Arthur, give me two punches. It’ll make you feel better inside, and it’ll make me feel better inside. Come on! Give me two punches!”

The Red Devil climbed up to Arthur’s ear and he hemmed and hawed and laughed to Arthur’s distraction.

“Arthur, what are you waiting for? This bastard has betrayed you, skin him and hang him from the roof of Scotland Yard. Only then will others know to fear you and realize what price to pay for betraying you.”

Arthur was silent for several moments as he fished a box of matches out of his pocket and handed it to Dennis’s eyes.

Dennis was teary-eyed, and he looked up at Arthur in surprise.

Arthur still didn’t say anything, he just pointed at the other man to the pipe he held in his mouth.

In realization, Dennis took the matchbox shakily and then tried again and again to light the match with his trembling hand.

His hands were clumsy, and it was not until the fifth attempt that the fire was finally kindled.

In no time at all, a thin wisp of smoke rose in the alley.

Arthur took a deep breath.

The tobacco was still as bitter, astringent, and throat-choking as ever today, but fortunately, he was beginning to grow accustomed to the flavor.

He was finally beginning to understand why those people enjoyed this unique hobby.

Arthur exhaled a mouthful of smoke rings and sighed heartily as he looked at the roofs of the shacks that almost covered his face on both sides of the narrow alley.

“Smoking, it feels so good ……”

He looked at Dennis’ familiar and unfamiliar face and spoke, “Your family’s child, almost a year old, right?”

Dennis froze, then gently nodded his head.

Arthur heavily pressed him against the wall of the alley, and the sudden force shook his hat to the ground.

Dennis stared blankly at a grim-faced Arthur, and just when he felt sure he was about to get a good beating, Arthur’s voice rang in his ears. “You’re the worst coworker ever.”

Dennis closed his eyes and nodded with a smile, his mind somewhat relieved, “That’s right.”

“But that doesn’t stop you from being a great father.”

For a split second, Dennis’s heart felt like a knife.

Arthur bent down to pick up the hat that had fallen to the floor and pressed it back on his head, the brim hiding his face from view.

“You go back, go back and take care of your family, I’ll just take the rest of the way on my own. The road ahead is quite dangerous and not suitable for the presence of a man with a family like you.”

Arthur had his hands in his pockets, his back was dragged long and long in the alley, but it made people feel a little lonely and desolate.

“Arthur!!!”

Dennis’s voice penetrated the entire alley, “Don’t go, he’s waiting for you right in front.”

Arthur’s footsteps paused for just a moment, but it didn’t take long for the alley to resound with footsteps again.

“If you must go, then take this with you!”

Dennis hissed with almost all his strength as he removed the officer’s knife from his waist and slammed it down hard on the ground.

“Take it! At least you deserve to use it more than I do!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks as he looked back at the officer’s knife that had fallen to the ground.

This time, Arthur didn’t refuse.

He bent down to pick up the officer’s knife and flicked his fingertips on the guard.

With a choking lang, the rapier was sheathed.

The blade was snow-white and shiny, and at a glance it was clear that it was usually well maintained, just like the one he had once owned.

It was so clean that it could simply be used as a mirror, illuminating both Arthur’s and Dennis’s faces, as well as the human and worldly conditions.

Arthur put away the officer’s knife and turned to stride toward the deepest part of the alley.

Officer Dennis watched his back as his body slid down the dirty wall a little.

These few short words just now had almost emptied all the strength from his body, his legs were weak, even his lips couldn’t stop trembling.

He sat down in the sewage, breathing heavily as he muttered, “God! Dennis, look what you’ve done.”

……

At the end of the alley, the same man was leaning against the wall.

The brim of his hat was pressed as low as Arthur’s, and his simple civilian clothes couldn’t hide his solid, hideous muscles, much less the shallow scar on his neck.

He tilted his head back, unable to stop himself from gently banging the back of his head against the wall.

Thud! Dang! Thud!
All Greenwich Borough Patrol Sergeants know that it’s best to stay away from him at this point, as it’s a sign of impatience.

And all soldiers who had served in the 15th Royal Hussars likewise understood what it meant.

Only they disagreed with the sergeants, because the soldiers thought it was a sign that he was ready to kill.

Willox did not travel today with a constable’s sword; on his belt hung a sabre that had been in his possession for many years.

The round head of the hilt was engraved with his identity – Sergeant Squadron Leader Willox Roberts, 3rd Squadron, 15th Royal Hussars.

(End of chapter)