Chapter 204: Nostalgia
Chapter 203 Nostalgia
London, Westminster, 4 Whitehall Street, Greater London Police Station.
Arthur sat on the chair in his office with a white porcelain teacup in his hand, gently sipping his tea.
The warm tea slid down his mouth and down his throat, finally merging into his burning heart, igniting a body that had lost its temperature due to the cold weather.
Arthur looked out the window at the pattering, dense rain and reached out to wipe away the hazy mist from the window.
Outside the window, the streets of Whitehall were busy with traffic, and even on the sidewalks you could see a number of officers from various departments running around with papers under their armpits, braving the downpour.
Seeing their comical appearance, Arthur couldn’t help but sigh, “I thought that people like me were the only ones who needed to move around after the Whigs came to power, but now it seems that most people are thinking the same as me.”
Hearing this, the Red Devil, who was leaning against the window wearing glasses and knitting a sweater to pass the time of boredom, just laughed playfully and shook his head, “People can sometimes dictate their own destiny. If we are subject to it, my dear Brutus, the fault is not in our fate, but in ourselves.”
Arthur heard this and snapped his fingers, “From Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II.”
Agareth shook his leg as he spoke, “Arthur, I’m not discussing opera with you. You know what I mean when I say that you clearly could have gone to less trouble. Solving Rowan can’t be called anything too difficult, especially for you. This time you just happened to do it, what are you going to do if Brougham doesn’t become the Chancellor?”
“Didn’t become one?” Arthur leaned back in his chair, “At best I won’t be here if I don’t make it. Didn’t I tell you that? You’ve given me too many means of earning money for a Superintendent of Scotland Yard, there’s really nothing left.
I stayed in this shithole before because I had to make a living here. Then I stayed here because I sensed that there were people who depended on me for a living. And then I stayed because the shit in the cesspit was in my face and if I didn’t respond to it, I’d be one with the cesspit.
But if you say I’ve gotten this far because I’ve been lucky, I won’t deny it. But you probably don’t know, an elder in my hometown said, ah, a person’s life, it’s not just about individual effort, sometimes you have to consider the course of history as well.”
Hearing this, Agares couldn’t help but mock, “Arthur, you have to be glad that humans don’t have tails, or else your tail would be up by now.”
For Agares’ challenge, Arthur always comes to the rescue, he nodded his head and agreed: “I’m also disappointed that the one who concluded the contract with me was not Barr, if it was Barr, he would not have said anything to watch me fall into the cesspit.”
“True.” Agareth rarely agreed with Arthur, “If it had been Bal, more than likely he would have eaten the cesspool clean before you fell in.”
Agares had just finished saying this when there was a thunderbolt outside the window, only a rumble could be heard, the red devil was so scared that he actually fell straight down the window.
Arthur sat by the window and waited for a while before he saw a withered palm with thin black nails sticking out from the edge of the window, the red devil exposed half of his head and while crawling towards the house, he cursed with a loud voice: “Fuck, scared me, I thought I really let Barr hear it.”
Arthur just nestled into his chair and repeated what the Red Devil had said in a flat tone, “People can sometimes dictate their own destiny. If we are subject to it, my dear Agareth, the fault is not in our fate, but in ourselves.”
“Arthur!” The Red Devil’s head exploded with smoke and one eye snapped up, nearly pushing Arthur out of the office with his chair, “Cut the fucking bullshit!”
Arthur sat by the door, frowning as he stared at the cup of black tea in his hand, displeased, “Agareth, watch it next time, you almost spilled my black tea. You know what? This tea is very expensive.”
The Red Devil tumbled in through the window with his wet head, and while glaring at Arthur, he lifted the lid of the teapot and poured a stream of tea into his mouth.
He chewed on the tea leaves while spraying spit and said, “What the hell black tea, I don’t taste much different!”
Arthur just shook his head helplessly as he watched him trash things so badly, “Maybe. But our new Prime Minister Earl Grey likes to drink this tea so much that he named it ‘Earl’s Tea’, and now it’s the hottest seller in the tea stores in London, and I usually can’t even buy it if I want to.”
Agares raised his eyebrows and said, “Can’t buy it? Then where did you get this stuff you’re drinking now?”
Arthur got up and walked over to the cabinet in his office and took out the tea canister, unscrewing the lid before aiming it at Agareth.
The Red Devil glanced at it, only to see a letter hidden behind the lid, addressed to – Braden Jones.
Agareth smiled at the sight of the name, rubbing his hands together with a wicked grin, “Wow! My dear Arthur, you have at last learned to do this. A small, insignificant gesture of human kindness, accepting some commonplace gift to maintain the daily comings and goings of your superiors and subordinates?”
Arthur shook his head and said, “Actually, generally speaking, I don’t accept these things. But Jones chose to send tea this time, and this behavior gave me an inexplicable familiarity, incidentally recalling an unpleasant past event. Perhaps it is also because of this that you feel flat when you drink this tea, but I feel an aura of reminiscence when I drink it.” “A whiff of memories?” Agareth wondered what kind of crazy this kid was having today as he asked, “Are you out of your mind again? You were still rolling around in a pigsty in York’s countryside when you were a kid, it’s more like you’re drinking two pounds of mud, can you afford to drink this high-grade black tea?”
Arthur didn’t get angry when he was mocked like this, he just spoke, “Agareth, I know you have a good taste in art. For the sake of this matter, I even composed a small poem, are you interested in hearing it?”
“Whoa! My dear Arthur. Is this your confidence since you won the gold medal at Cambridge? And you’ve started writing poems?”
The Red Devil grinned, “But you boys better stop kissing my ass, do you think I’m that brainless, arrogant Vice Lord of Heaven – Lucifer Morningstar? Just pat me on the back twice, and I’ll be on my ass to forgive you?”
Arthur said with regret on his face, “What a pity, I thought you were the only one in this world worthy of appreciating it.”
Agareth picked up the sweater pin and sat on the edge of the window with his legs crossed, “Tell me about it.”
Arthur smiled slightly as he cleared his throat and looked out the window at the pouring rain and lamented.
“When I was a child.
Nostalgia is a little tin of tea.
I was at this end.
The leader was at that end.
When I grew up.
Nostalgia is still a fucking pot of tea.
jones at this end.
I’m on that end.”
No sooner had Arthur finished this sentence than there was a sudden knock at the office door.
A voice so tense that it was distorted rang through the door, “Report!”
Arthur narrowed his eyes towards Agares as he asked, “Which end is it from?”
The Red Devil raised his glowing crimson eyes to glance at the door, “This end.”
Arthur sniffed in relief as he returned to his chair and sat down, calling out aloud, “Come in.”
As soon as the words fell, the door to the office was pushed open, and standing outside the door was the drenched as if he were a drenched chicken, Braden Jones, the sub-inspector of the Whitechapel police district of the Tauerhamletts Region.
Jones was filled with nervousness, his slightly shaking hand still cupped a document that had just been issued from Scotland Yard regarding Arthur’s transfer away.
Although he had rehearsed in his mind countless times what he should say in his meeting with Arthur, when his eyes met Arthur’s line of sight, he still couldn’t help but let his brain go blank in fear.
The beating he received a few months ago lingered in his mind, although it had been quiet for a while and Arthur hadn’t bothered him again.
But Jones’s heart is always empty, this feeling is simply more horrible than Arthur reprimanded him face to face, it is like always someone put the noose on his head, but he can never guess when the execution will take place.
Jones’ lips turned white, and his body shivered and trembled for half a day before he finally summoned up the courage to speak, “Sir, don’t worry. I’m here at Whitechapel, as long as Miss Fiona and the others follow what you say, and don’t touch the felonies that have a large social impact, I can guarantee that they won’t have any problems. In addition, I believe that with your ability, even if you are transferred this time, it won’t be long before you will definitely come back. I …… no, it’s the gang, we all have confidence in you.”
Hearing this, Arthur just smiled and held out his hand, “Don’t be nervous, Jones, please sit down. I never left, so what’s the point of coming back? Speaking of which, how’s that thing I asked you to look into going?”
With heavy steps Jones walked over to Arthur and sat down, he shakily removed a document from the cloth bag he carried and handed it over.
“This is the information that Miss Fiona got after they sent someone to follow up, because the time is too tight, there are a lot of things that have not yet been investigated clearly. But if you’re not in a hurry, there will definitely be additional things sent over one after another. Mr. Norton and Mrs. Norton’s addresses, as well as their recent travel trajectories and what they did, have all been written on it.”
(End of chapter)