Chapter 3: Piercing Scotland Yard

Chapter 3 Piercing Scotland Yard
After parting ways with Elder, Arthur paced slowly towards Scotland Yard following his usual patrol path.

He was oblivious to the hawkers occupying the road on both sides of the road, and only reluctantly would he politely dissuade them if the store owners strongly protested.

This was a philosophy of dealing with the world that Arthur had learned only after six months at Scotland Yard.

The area policed by the Greater London Constabulary was home to a world-beating population of one and a half million people, one-tenth of whom were directly or indirectly engaged in itinerant retailing.

The prisons around London were already overcrowded, so Arthur couldn’t put everyone in jail.

And even though the ships of the Royal Navy were able to travel the seas, to defeat the invincible fleets of the Dutch and the Spanish, and to beat Napoleon’s fleet to a pulp at the Battle of Trafalgar, the Royal Navy was equally incapable of banishing all the London peddlers to Australia.

To catch or not to catch, Arthur would always be faced with this difficult choice these six months.

The good thing was that from now on, he would never have to face this dilemma again.

Agareth’s head hung down like a defeated rooster, and he followed Arthur step by step, without any energy.

Arthur also noticed that his friend was not in a good mood, so he asked, “Agareth, what’s wrong with you? Look at your face, you look like a defeated Frenchman.”

“Arthur! What expression are you going to make me put on when you are going to ask me to accompany you to the sea to see the whales? Am I to laugh?”

After saying this, Agareth ran to a small fish-selling stall and squatted down in front of it, he looked at the half-dead herring spitting bubbles on the case with a disgusted face, then covered his forehead and sighed.

“Just how many virtues have I accumulated to bring me to this state? For the next few years, I’ll just have to dine on this ugly-looking, slime-covered little thing?”

Instead of being half sympathetic to Agareth’s complaints, Arthur tried his best to correct this devil’s wrong values.

“Agareth, you’re being disrespectful to the history of this country by saying that. For a long time in the past, the Royal Navy could have been fed by the ugly little things you talk about.

Back then, in order to pursue a mercantilist policy and encourage the growth of the fishing industry and shipbuilding, Henry VII introduced the Fish Eating Act, which made it mandatory to eat fish every Lent and Lenten fasting day of the year.

And to the time of Elizabeth I, the scope of the fish day was expanded to three days a week. It was the duty and obligation of every subject under the king to eat fish.”

Agares was so furious that he conjured up three torches from nowhere and provoked Arthur by jumping on his feet while performing acrobatics similar to a circus clown juggling colored balls.

“Taking the laws of Britain to behead the Duke of Hell, Arthur, you’ve got a lot of official authority! I just won’t eat, what can you do to me?”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, “According to the law, the lightest punishment for not eating as prescribed on the fish-eating day is six hours of shackling, but your attitude is of extreme gravity, so I would advocate for ten days of imprisonment. But then, that’s all in the past. Now you can eat or not eat as you like, no one cares.”

“No one cares about me? Then why did you bring it up?”

Arthur replied seriously, “Since you just called me an excellent London University graduate this morning, I was going to show you my excellent academic skills. Although it’s something that wouldn’t normally line up in the day-to-day workings of the Greater London Police Department, I thought it was more or less necessary to give you a little account of it so as not to let you, my main patron, down.”

“I don’t need you to give me that kind of account! If you really want to give me an account, then use that dexterous little brain of yours and think of some other way out than floating on the sea.”

“Unfortunately, Agareth, it’s all too late. If you’d been honest and sent me to Oxford or Cambridge in the first place, or if I hadn’t hit a recession when I graduated, perhaps I would have had other options.

But now, the only way I can go is to the sea. Agareth, you’re to blame for this.” “Oh! my dear Arthur.” Agareth pleaded in a low tone, “If I apologize now, is it too late?”

Arthur pointed to the badge on his hat and asked, “If apologizing works, what do we need police for?”

“Damn! So you’re just being ironic? If that’s the case, why don’t you take off your disgusting clothes? Isn’t this week’s paycheck already paid?”

Arthur said, “It’s called being prudent and standing your last watch. As long as I haven’t officially handed in my resignation, then I’m still a member of the London Metropolitan Police.”

“Wow, Arthur ……,” Agareth picked up his handkerchief and pretended to wipe the tears from his eyes, “I almost believed you. What the hell are you planning to do, you tenacious little bastard?”

Arthur glanced at him, “I’ve been sickened by this place for six months, am I just going to walk away from it lightly?”

“Whoa! That’s right!” The devil broke into an excited grin, “What are you going to do? Set Scotland Yard on fire, or stab that fucker of a boss of yours?”

“Neither.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I intend to stab Scotland Yard in the back and put another fire under my boss’s ass.”

“Isn’t it all the same?”

“No, Agareth, you don’t understand, it’s not the same at all.”

Arthur came to an abrupt halt, and he was standing at the corner of the street where there was no end to the pedestrian traffic.

Behind him was the noisy, dirty, East End of London that reeked of decay and stench everywhere.

The world in front of him, on the other hand, was completely different.

The neat houses and clean streets lined up one after another, the medieval buildings with gothic spires and gilded splendor blended with the modern houses of exquisite design around them, the gorgeous bas-reliefs and the black and strange fences reflected each other, and near the Parliament Square, there were gorgeous carriages and well-dressed high class gentlemen and ladies.

The best of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland is contained within an area of less than three miles, with the Houses of Parliament in London representing the national legislature to the east, Whitehall Street with its administrative apparatus to the north, the Supreme Court of Great Britain to the west, and Westminster Abbey and St. Margaret’s Church, symbols of the Anglican Church of the United Kingdom, to the south.

All of this is a dazzling contrast to the dark and filthy scene behind it.

And it was here that Arthur’s destination for the day was situated.

His eyes drifted north through the dense flow of people.

4 Whitehall Street – the headquarters of the London Metropolitan Police.

(End of chapter)