Chapter 25: Shady Dealings
Chapter 25: Shady Dealings
“Found Willox’s body?”
The middle-aged Superintendent couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows when he heard these words, “You mean to say that it wasn’t us who did it?”
The officer nodded his head, “That’s right, someone has gotten down to business before us.”
The middle-aged Superintendent stood up and paced slowly in his office as he muttered to himself, “Who did it? A buyer? An enemy? Or perhaps a fellow ingrate?”
The officer lowered his voice and asked for instructions, “Do we need to start an open investigation? We haven’t disposed of the body yet.”
“No need.”
The Superintendent shook his finger, “Scotland Yard has already attracted too much attention now, and all eyes are on us. If the news of the sheriff’s murder happens again at this time, it will only make things bigger and bigger, and there might be some kind of chaos behind it.”
“An internal, secret investigation then? We’ve already established that the last person to have seen Willox was Patrol Sergeant Dennis Lloyd of Greenwich Borough. We can start with him and work backwards if we need to.”
“Hold off on him for now, you guys get rid of Willox’s body first, make things clean and don’t leave any clues. By the way, have you guys sorted out Willox’s social relations? It won’t cause any trouble, right?”
The officer took out the file clipped in his arm and placed it on the desk.
“This is his information file, Willox’s parents died at an early age, he joined the Army at the age of fourteen to serve in the army, after retiring from the army, he entered Scotland Yard as a sheriff, he once had a wife but divorced not long after, the couple had no children.”
The corners of the Superintendent’s mouth quirked, “Very simple social relations, that’s what I like about him. Murderous, violent, limber but simple minded, no major flaws other than a bit of vengeance, ready to be thrown away after use and no worries about the aftermath.
After you dispose of the body, come back and let me know. I’ll start the investigation process within three days and convict him of absconding.
At that time, I will put all the internal firearms and stolen goods that we trafficked out of Scotland Yard in the past six months on his head, and it’s only fitting that he, a dead man, should take the blame for this.
The list of equipment purchases for this fiscal year will soon be finalized, and it will be a good opportunity to make up the difference.
With Sergeant Arthur’s shining example in front of us, I’m sure Parliament and the Secretary of State shouldn’t put much of a damper on Scotland Yard’s budget request.”
The officer was a little hesitant to hear this, “But won’t …… Sir Peel grow suspicious? That’s dozens of guns, and the value of the missing stolen goods is even more impossible to specify. Although we did it cleanly, but if the Ministry of the Interior is determined to trace down, I’m afraid it will also be seen to be wrong, right?”
“The Ministry of Internal Affairs won’t trace it down.”
“Why?”
The Superintendent glanced at the officer and smiled disdainfully, “Sir Peel has managed to turn the tide in Scotland Yard’s favor, do you think he’d tolerate a scandal breaking at this time about a large number of guns and stolen goods missing from London’s Metropolitan Police Force?
As long as the scandal breaks out at this time, not only will all the previous efforts be wasted, but we will also be subject to a strong backlash from public opinion.
The Whigs in the House of Commons have been looking for an opportunity to impeach him for a long time, and he won’t allow that to happen.
Don’t be fooled by Sir Peel’s gentle and kindly appearance, he has a deeper heart than anyone else.
He will definitely get suspicious and may go for an investigation, but it definitely won’t be in the name of the Ministry of the Interior with much fanfare, so we can easily avoid it if we pay attention to it.
Of course, the best case scenario is that he simply pretends not to know about it. That way he continues to be his Home Secretary and we continue to do our police work, which is better for everyone.”
The young officer was still a little scared, and the Superintendent could see his eyes wandering and dodging around.
But he neither criticized nor reprimanded.
Instead, he simply patted the young officer’s shoulder and said, “Jones, you have to know that the Home Secretary can’t do it for life, and may be replaced at any time. You, however, are the one who is going to work in Scotland Yard for the rest of your life.
Are you happy with your salary of twelve shillings a week? Are you well pleased with your shabby abode and house?
Summer is coming; take this, and go and buy a pretty dress for your wife, and some new toys for your children.”
At these words, the middle-aged superintendent pulled his wallet out of his pocket, folded ten brand-new pounds into diagonal pieces, and slipped them into the young officer’s jacket pocket.
“You’re a very good lad, you deserve more, and I’m very optimistic about your future.
Now Willox is dead, oh no, I should say he’s fled in fear of his life.
But anyway, there’ll be a vacancy for a sheriff’s post in Greenwich. Jones, you know what I mean, and you mustn’t make a mistake about yourself.” The young constable could not help a shudder from his body at these words.
But when he felt the weight of the bulge in his pocket, he still immediately stood at attention and saluted, “Yes, sir!”
The middle-aged superintendent nodded in satisfaction, “Now go back to your business. By the time you come back to report after disposing of the corpse, your promotion documents should have been drafted.”
The young police officer clenched his fists, and although he tried his best to restrain his excitement, he couldn’t help but reveal a smile if anything.
Just as he was about to leave the house, suddenly, it was as if he had remembered something.
He fished out a blood-stained playing card from the pocket of his pants and placed it on the table.
“By the way, sir, this is what I found on the chest of Willox’s corpse, it might come in handy.”
The middle-aged superintendent picked up the playing card, which was a pierced jack of hearts.
He slumped back in his chair and held the playing card aloft against the window, the sunlight shining on its surface.
The color of the hearts was bright red.
“Heh …… kind of interesting.”
……
In the confinement room at Scotland Yard, Tom and Tony were locked in the same room.
The two lay on their backs on the floor, looking at the airtight pitch black environment, even breathing felt oppressive.
“Tony, do you think, the two of us this time, are we finished?”
“Whatever, I think it’s already worth it to beat up that old bastard Willox.”
“But aren’t we getting our asses kicked?”
“Shut up, Tom! It’s all your fault. You put a sack over his head and you can’t even get it right! If you put a sack on his head, you can’t get it wrong, and you can’t take a stick and hit him in the back with it?”
“Tony, that’s a very unkind thing to say! I broke the stick, what else would you have me do? That bastard Willox is like iron, if I’d known I’d have switched to a hammer instead of a stick.”
“That was the wrong place for you to hit! If it had been a punch to the back of his head, any man would have been dazed. But you hit him in the back! Well, Willox didn’t get shit done, and we both got beat up and locked up!”
When Tom heard this, he felt that his future was gloomy: “God! Help me, I’m trying to atone for my sins, I’m trying to do something for Arthur, but why are you punishing me like this?”
As soon as Tom’s words left his mouth, the iron door of the confinement room creaked and was pushed open.
Light streamed into the darkened confinement room, illuminating Arthur’s majestic back and lighting up his shining Bass Star shoulder patch.
Tony was lying on his side with his back to the door, waving his hand impatiently, “Is it a food delivery? Just leave the stuff on the floor, we’ll get it ourselves.”
Tom, on the other hand, looked at the smiling Arthur in front of him with a stunned look on his face, and in a trance he took his hand and pushed Tony’s ass beside him.
“Tony, Tony.”
Tony got a belly laugh, “What’s going on!”
“Would you look who’s here?”
“Who else could it be, couldn’t it be Arthur?”
Tom felt that his mind was no longer quite clear, and he muttered, “No, it’s not Arthur, it’s …… God.”
(End of chapter)