Chapter 344: Three Files

Chapter 341: Three Files
“Sir, the investigation on the source of the guns has yielded results.”

Sergeant Felder placed a file on the desktop in front of Arthur.

“Whoa? So soon?” Arthur copied the document and leaned back in his chair to read it, “That’s an efficiency of investigation that doesn’t come along very often! Even in London, on our own ground, it’s not going to take three days to figure out where the six guns came from.”

Fielder reported, “The main reason for making a breakthrough on the gun issue so quickly is that we seized the bills for the acquisition of the guns by the three gunmen in the hotel where they were staying. According to the bills, two of the revolvers were undoubtedly in the hands of Mr. Samuel Colt. The two East India Company and Beretta flintlock pistols were exchanged from Moxon’s Gun Shop in London.

Our agents sent to London to investigate visited each of these two sources of guns, and their books of account confirm that all the information contained in the bills is true. The perpetrators were exiles living in the Polish refugee area of north-east London, and all three held Polish citizenship.

Once their identities were known, our agents traveled to the refugee area in search of clues and were able to locate their homes. According to the neighbors of the perpetrators, the three men moved into the area in different groups between August and October this year.

In view of the fact that your assassination was most likely caused by the special status of Commissioner. Therefore, I personally believe that it is unlikely that the gunmen’s group had been in place since August, and suggest that you may wish to consider ruling out the possibility of an assassination under a false identity as a preliminary step.

In addition, regarding the descriptions of them by the residents in the neighborhood, I have written them all down in the appendix of the documents, due to the time constraints coupled with the complexity of the case, so I have not streamlined the information, you may need to take some time to read these files.”

“Well done, Field. Scotland Yard needs officers like you who are responsible and have a clear head.”

Arthur complimented slightly, then his eyes quickly moved down to the files.

Soon, the information on the three men was quickly presented to him.

[File No. 1831-12-A1

Name: Cheslav Kovalchik
Age: 30-35

Faith: Catholic
Marital status: Married

[Information summarized]

According to the confession of the local parish priest:

The Kowalczyk family moved into the area to live in August 1831, and there were four members of the household, including, in addition to the prisoner, two boys about 8 years old, and the prisoner’s spouse, a young female Polish exile in her 20s named Agnieszka.

According to the priest’s observations, the Kovalchiks would have come from a middle-class Polish family, and both children were very well mannered. And Mrs. Kovalchik was not well acquainted with housekeeping, as could be seen from her delicate fingers and her occasional quotations from the Bible, which indicated that she had been a wealthy, unworldly young lady before she married.

It is worth noting that, unlike the usual Polish refugees, the house they rented was not luxurious, but it was an apartment in good condition in the area. This suggests that they would have had some savings with them when they arrived in Britain.

According to confessions from nearby neighbors:
Mr. Kowalczyk was a rather gloomy, repressed man who usually did not communicate much with the other residents of the parish. Because of his lack of fluency in English, he was unable to find work for a long time. He was introduced to a short-term job as a porter at the docks, and when he became more proficient in English, he worked as an errand boy for a local grocery store.

Neither job lasted long, though, and Mr. Kovalchik was soon dismissed by his employer because of his inability to get along with people. After that, Mr. Kovalchik shut himself up in his house for a long time, and quarrels often broke out in the middle of the night in their home.

According to the local residents, who did not understand Polish but were keen on reasoning, the quarrels between the couple were mostly about their income. And the facts bear this out. It was not long before it was discovered that Mrs. Kowalczyk had begun to work as a laundress in order to make ends meet, and that her clothes had been changed from fine velvet dresses to plain, hard-wearing Welsh facecloth aprons.

By about November, the parishioners noticed that Mrs. Kovalchick’s attire had changed back to the old aristocratic style, and her face was becoming more and more elaborately made up. This was accompanied by more violent quarrels from the Kovalchick home and the crying of the children through the night.

Although the gossiping parishioners had no proof of this, they all beat their chests to our agents, saying that Mrs. Kovalchik, the woman named Agnieszka, had become so rich so quickly because of some immoral work.

And after another violent quarrel, the parishioners, who listened every night to the Polish couple’s arguments to help them sleep, saw Mr. Kowalczyk through the dirty window panes slamming the door one rainy night. From then on, he was not seen for days on end.

And by the time he reappeared on the streets of the parish, his air had become more formidable than ever. He knocked on the door of his house, handed a small bag to the two children who were staying at home, and kissed them on the forehead, and then left without looking back. And after that, no one ever saw him again.

Arthur couldn’t help but shake his head when he saw this, “Another one of those stories. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen it too much, I’m a bit numb from reading it.”

Felder lit his pipe and sat down next to Arthur, “Sir, to be honest, I’m the same. I have to admit, you said once upon a time, ‘After a long time in Scotland Yard, the heart is hardened’. In that, you were right.”

Arthur closed the first file and spoke, “Putting aside the misfortunes of Mr. and Mrs. Kovalchik, let’s get to the facts of the case. If it’s true, as the parishioners say, that Mrs. Kovalchik has maintained a higher standard of living only through some special channels, then perhaps we’ll have to use the means of some special channels as well.”

Fielder asked, “Are you talking about …… Miss Ivan?”

“That’s right.” Arthur took the fire from Field, “Send someone to London and tell our underground queen that it’s time to move her lazy ass to work. The old man called for an eye opener, and this can’t just go away.”

Feld pulled out the little notebook he had with him and took notes, “We need Miss Ivan to find out if there’s a Polish lady named Agnieszka among the new stragglers who have entered the business after the end of October. On top of that, it would be a good idea to find out her current whereabouts?”

Arthur sniffed and asked, “Find out whereabouts? Does that mean that the lady is lost?”

Felder nodded, “That’s right, not long after Kovalchik disappeared, the lady disappeared with him.”

Arthur frowned, “What about the remaining two children?”

Fielder stuck his pen back in his pocket, “Standard endings, are at the poorhouse.”

Arthur’s fingertips tapped the desktop, “Has anyone been sent to confirm this? Or is that just what the agent pried out of the parish priest?”

“That ……” Field realized something was wrong as well, “I’ll send someone to London later to confirm.”

Arthur nodded slightly, then turned to the next file.

[File #1831-12-A2].

Name: Nikolai Dabowski
Age: 20-30 years old Belief: Catholic
Marital status: Unmarried

[Information summarized]

According to the parish priest’s confession:

Dabowski moved into the area at the end of September of this year, sharing a one-bedroom apartment with another gunman that had poor lighting.

He described himself as a highly educated Warsaw university student and a personal participant in last year’s Warsaw Uprising, and as a regular Uprising soldier who took part in a blockade of Tsarist forces near the Vistula River.

And of all his experiences, Dabowski’s favorite boast to people is that he once personally handily killed two Tsarist infantrymen. But given his history of alcoholism and habit of telling tall tales, the parish priest remained highly skeptical about the veracity of his stories.

More than that, the parish priest saw him as a local troublemaker. Although he had moved into the local parish only a few months earlier, Daborski already had a brief stint in jail for a drunken brawl.

According to local resident confessions:

Local residents’ perceptions of Dabowski were severely polarized.

Some see the Polish man, who has only a simple command of English, as a good, helpful man who doesn’t care about money, claiming that Dabowski, although he is strapped for cash, often buys drinks for the group at the tavern and gives his food to others who need it more.

The other part of the group strongly complained about Dabowski’s high level of drunken and uncivilized behavior, including, but not limited to, severe exhibitionism, drunken violence, and blush-inducing nasty oral sex. The ladies were particularly vocal in this regard, complaining that 90% of Dabowski’s limited English vocabulary was not to be spoken aloud in public.

If we exclude the ambivalent views of the locals, Dabowski clearly fared much better in the area than the other inmate. He hadn’t been in the area long before he was introduced to the docks by his new friends, and worked his ass off, with a level of hard work that rivaled that of the lowliest of Irish immigrants.

His sturdy frame was to the liking of the dockworkers, but his fiery temper and habit of running his mouth brought him into contact with the Short and Dagger gang that roamed the West India Docks. After a routine break from work, Dabowski was approached by the Short Daggers, and he disappeared from public view after poking an elite member of the Short Daggers in the right eye with a nail in front of dozens of people.

And after the crime, a group of people from the Short Dagger Gang went to Scotland Yard to report the crime, and the Criminal Investigation Department then issued a wanted notice for Dabowski ……

Seeing this, Arthur slowly exhaled smoke rings with his pipe in his right hand, “These hooligans kinda know the law! Still know to report the case.”

Fielder returned with his pipe in his mouth, “Short Dagger Gang’s losers are just like this, if Fred was still around, a screwed up gang like them would have been blown out of the East District long ago. Now it’s because Fred is gone, coupled with the fact that Inspector Jones and the previous Inspector Klein have been pressuring the various forces in Tauerhamletts not to go too far, the Short Dagger Gang, a group of small scumbags who don’t even dare to move their knives, are able to scrape together a meal on the fringes of the West India Docks. However, it’s this meager meal they can’t even eat well, letting an unsupported outsider stab an eye blind, why don’t they go jump in the Thames and kill themselves?”

Arthur shook his head as his eyes continued to descend.

It had been two weeks since Dabowski had disappeared and reappeared on the streets of London.

According to the word of mouth of a local resident, Mr. Smith, who was on good terms with Dabowski, he was returning home from work when he spotted Dabowski walking out of a legal brothel. Dabowski had already changed into a broad outfit, with two hands on the right and two hands on the left, and a smug smile on his face.

And when Dabowski spotted his old friend Smith, he casually gave him a guinea gold coin. Limited by Dabowski’s impoverished vocabulary, he was unable to express exactly what he wanted to say. So, using body language, Dabowski pinched a prostitute’s ass and gave his old friend a scowl.

Shocked, Mr. Smith rushed to excuse himself, telling Dabrowski that he was a decent gentleman with a family and could not do anything wrong to his family, and seriously admonished Dabrowski that he should remember God’s teachings and abstain from those immodest habits. At that, Mr. Smith took the gold coins that Dabowski had given him and bought him a drink, and the two talked late into the night.

When Arthur saw this, he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes: ”In the front, he said that Dabowski’s English was terrible, and then he talked to each other late into the night. Mr. Smith’s confession is worth recalling!”

Fielder took a drag on his cigarette, “It’s only human nature. Mr. Smith can’t say that he took the gold coins given by Dabowski and had a great time, right? We did question Mrs. Smith afterwards, and the lady told us that his husband did come home one night in the middle of the night with a windfall, but not a guinea, but ten shillings. So long as he didn’t conceal it in the vitals, as for disturbing the harmony of other people’s families, there was no need for us to go into that.”

Arthur laughed and leaned back in his chair and spoke, “Charles, after all this time at Scotland Yard, your heart has more than hardened, it has softened. It’s the soft part that’s not quite right?”

Field saluted and snorted, “It’s all because of your guidance, sir. I’ve only just heard about your Scotland Yard conversion method from Mr. Jonesy, and I’ve only slightly improved on it; one guinea equals ten shillings seems reasonable to me.”

Arthur closed the second file and spoke, “I keep your copy in your bedside cabinet, the truth is buried in the second drawer. Also I have to say that this is only the first layer of the truth, and since my plastic surgery was so successful, I expect that someone will soon reveal the second layer of information to us.”

When Felder heard this, his smile just couldn’t stop spilling out, “Sir, the guys say that one year of working with you is worth ten years of working alone, so I really do have to learn more from you after all.”

“It’s not that easy money.” Arthur pointed to the stitches in the corner of his eye, “Although I don’t mind sacrificing a bit for the guys, I can’t always bleed me, right?”

Fielder squared his shoulders, “Of course, sir! I’ll hang those sons of bitches on the gallows in a heartbeat, or at the very least, pull a few minions for you to sacrifice.”

Arthur nodded slightly as he was about to review the third document, which had nothing but a name filled in.

“What’s going on here?”

Fielder hurriedly explained, “The third prisoner’s situation is slightly complicated, he hasn’t moved to London for a long time and has always lived in deep seclusion, he usually doesn’t deal with the neighborhood and usually hangs out with other Polish exiles. So we know very little about him from the parish, and the neighborhood generally has little recollection of him other than that he’s an oddball.”

Arthur asked, “So didn’t the agents go to the Poles to find out more about him?”

Fielder spoke up, “Went, but you are aware of that Temporary Control of Polish Refugees Bill proposed by the Foreign Office, aren’t you?”

“What? The Foreign Office won’t allow Scotland Yard to have contact with the Poles? They don’t have that power either, do they?”

Fielder pursed his lips and said, “Of course the Foreign Office doesn’t have that power, but isn’t there a cholera epidemic in London right now? The Polish gathering area had a wave of outbreaks a while ago, so it’s been designated as a controlled area by the Central Health Board, and access to the area is now strictly controlled by the military police. Without that Temporary Control of Polish Refugees Act, all we’d have to do is get a document approved by the Chancellery, and we’d be in in about two or three days. But now we have to go through an application from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs again, and because of that there’s a delay in time, so I guess we’ll have to wait a week or so before we can officially send someone in.”

“Is that so?”

Arthur read as he stared at the name ‘Victor Novak’ on the file, “Kind of interesting.”

Push the book, “Isn’t this also Cyber? , which the guys are interested in checking out

(End of chapter)