The Shadow of Great Britain

244: Chapter 165 Damn it, who is messing with me?

244: Chapter 165 Damn it, who is messing with me?

London, Westminster, 4 Whitehall, Greater London Police Department.

In the bright meeting room, the routine weekly police meeting of Scotland Yard was underway.

Due to the Tory Party cabinet’s fall from power, the number of protest marches in London had seen a significant decrease, allowing Scotland Yard, previously stretched thin, to refocus their efforts on maintaining day-to-day order.

With a substantial reduction in his workload, Superintendent Rowan was in quite a good mood, a rare occurrence for this always stoic British Army Colonel; today, a genial smile hung incongruously on his typically stern features.

Of course, a lighter workload alone wouldn’t have been enough to cheer him up this much.

More importantly, he had secured contact with the new Home Secretary, the Viscount Melbourne, thanks to an introduction by Viscount Palmerston, and had received his endorsement.

Starting today, he would retire officially from the British Army and move from his position as acting head of the Greater London Police Department to full-time status.

To the upper-class nobility, being Superintendent of the Greater London Police Department might not seem an enviable job.

Compared with Civil Servants in the Cabinet, this position, although possessing some power, was seen as tiresome, bearing heavy responsibilities and offering meager pay.

But for Rowan, who had clawed his way up from an ordinary merchant family, his many years of hard work in the military had finally borne fruit.

Yet, what made Rowan even happier was that the Home Office had agreed without hesitation to transfer Arthur to the Criminal Investigation Department.

Perhaps the folks at the Home Office had been uncomfortable with Arthur for some time now, or perhaps they genuinely believed he was talented in criminal investigation.

Regardless of what others thought, Rowan had achieved his goal.

According to his plan, Arthur would sit on the bench in the Criminal Investigation Department for a few years.

After all, there were only a handful of significant cases each year, and even if one did arise, the decision to assign it to the Criminal Investigation Department for oversight was his to make.

By sidelining Arthur for a while, everyone would gradually forget about Britain’s finest officer.

Rowan had plenty of means to slowly torment his adversary thereafter.

The inspectors present, having listened to Rowan’s speech after speech, reading out the recent decisions issued by the Home Office, began to look at Arthur and Rowan with increasingly peculiar gazes.

Although the twenty-year-old maintained his composure, unfazed by honor or disgrace, it seemed to the group that the promising young man’s career at Scotland Yard might soon be coming to an end.

Taking advantage of a break in the meeting, Superintendent Rowan and Assistant Superintendent Sir Mayne left their seats, sparking the inspectors’ gossiping tendencies instantly.

Whispers spread throughout the meeting room.

“Criminal Investigation Department?”

“A department with only four people?”

“Isn’t this a joke?”

“Did the young lad offend Superintendent Rowan, or did he cross someone important in the Home Office?”

Among the murmurs of the inspectors, those who had fought alongside Arthur in Hyde Park could not sit still any longer.

They were all old subordinates of the Duke of Wellington, having been through the Peninsular War and Waterloo together.

Though not particularly close to Arthur, they were not prepared to sit back and watch their colleagues point fingers at someone who was practically one of their own.

Inspector Davis Lee tapped on the table, “Gentlemen, the meeting isn’t over yet.

Can’t these discussions wait until after the meeting?”

Inspector Matherlin, blind in one eye, leaned back in his chair, chiming in, “Have you forgotten how Clemens died?

Don’t be too talkative.

We’re just police; let’s not get involved in other matters.

What is most important is to do our duty.”

Inspector Mitchell, who had been lounging in his chair with his hat over his eyes, lifted the brim of his hat, “If you continue to discuss, you’ll be violating the Home Office regulation to remain politically neutral.

Although Sir Peel is gone, I hope everyone here still remembers the rules he established.”

The inspectors talked about maintaining neutrality, but anyone pulled aside could hear the sarcastic tones in their voices.

As direct descendants of the Duke of Wellington’s lineage, these inspectors, who had been recruited to Scotland Yard as police mainstays by Sir Peel, felt a sense of sorrow at the sight of Arthur being suppressed.

In fact, before Arthur himself could say anything, they had already preemptively silenced the noisy chatters for him.

The other inspectors, facing these seasoned officers, could only chuckle awkwardly and shut their mouths.

Inspector Mosley, sitting next to Arthur, the oldest in service and the one who had followed the Duke of Wellington the longest, a retiree from Wellington’s own ‘Guard’ of the 5th Royal Regiment of Foot, elbowed Arthur.

The reticent old man consoled, “Arthur, it’s nothing serious, just a minor setback.

Rowan is nearly fifty; he can’t stay at Scotland Yard forever.

Sooner or later, he’ll have to get out of here.

And you, you’re so young, you could wear him out by sheer endurance.

The Superintendent’s seat is bound to be yours eventually, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Inspector Mosley thought Arthur’s silence came from feeling upset, but in reality, while Arthur wasn’t exactly cheerful, he wasn’t feeling like the sky was falling either.

His heart was filled with more doubts because, after pondering the whole night, he still couldn’t understand—who the hell is out to get me?

He had already met with Viscount Melbourne.

Mrs.

Copper also had a good impression of him.

Even the newly appointed Foreign Secretary, Palmerston, had exchanged a few words with Arthur.

Yet, when he turned around, he received news of his reassignment.

Could it be that Viscount Melbourne was so beguiled by Rowan’s smooth talking that he believed the Criminal Investigation Department to be some critical place?

Or perhaps Rowan had another person backing him, someone with the power to exert significant influence over Viscount Melbourne, forcing the indolent new Home Secretary to take time out of his busy schedule to knock Arthur down a peg or two in Scotland Yard.

After much deliberation, Arthur concluded that in all of Britain, only two people had such power: either His Majesty the King, William IV, who had just ascended to the throne, or the newly appointed Prime Minister, Earl Charles Grey.

But for the life of him, Arthur could not figure out when he had offended these two high-ranking individuals.

He had absolutely no connection with Earl Grey, and as for King William IV, the former Marshal of the Royal Navy, if Arthur had done anything to incur his enmity, could it be that he had leaked the secret relationship between the Royal Navy, goats, and fish?

But if the King resented that, wouldn’t he first have to deal with Mr.

Eld Carter, the key figure responsible for the leak?

After all, he was the one who had spilled the secrets!

While Arthur was deep in thought, the door to the conference room was pushed open.

Chief Rowan, having finished his break, adjusted his hair and walked past Arthur with light steps.

Catching a glimpse of Arthur’s expressionless face from the corner of his eye, Rowan couldn’t help but stop, lean in close, and whisper a word into his ear.

“Arthur, what did you tell me last time?

To keep it under wraps without making a sound?

That only one of us could remain between us two?

You young people always think so extremely.

In this regard, you’re far less just than we middle-aged folks with our rich experience in handling matters.

Look, if it were me handling things, you would stay, and I would stay as well.

I would play to my strengths by leading Scotland Yard, and you would also utilize your advantages by managing the dispatch of the Criminal Investigation Departments.

Knowing how to properly delegate responsibilities is no trivial matter.

But you don’t need to thank me—after all, everything is done for the public interest.

Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you, you can also put aside that temporary task from the London Area Measurement and Statistical Survey Bureau.”

Just this morning, I went to consult with Viscount Melbourne, and His Grace also believes that tasks like city area surveying would be better handled by specialized personnel.

Scotland Yard is short on police resources, therefore, under reasonable conditions, we should first serve the regional public order.”

Rowan looked into Arthur’s red-rimmed eyes, feeling an unstoppable sense of triumph within.

He was dying to share how he belittled LPS in front of Viscount Melbourne.

But in such a public setting, that seemed too unbecoming.

After all, starting from today, he was the official Chief of Scotland Yard, and it was necessary to maintain some dignity in front of his subordinates.

He patted Arthur on the shoulder and said earnestly, “Arthur, although the Criminal Investigation Department has just been established, it is a significant department.

From now on, London’s major cases will all depend on you.

With talent like yours in Scotland Yard, why should we spend a fortune every year hiring specialized thief catchers?

We need to make good use of your talent.

The reason for the abolition of LPS is to allow you to focus more energy on criminal investigation, so that your gift can be utilized in the most valuable field.

Viscount Melbourne also inquired about your work history today, and he wanted me to tell you not to take the job adjustment too much to heart—it’s just a technical change.

The public has seen your efforts, and your future has other important uses.”

No sooner had Rowan finished speaking than the smile on his face became irrepressible.

He suddenly let out a hearty laugh but quickly covered his mouth and apologized, “Sorry, Arthur, you know I have absolutely no issues with you.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t have recommended you to Viscount Melbourne as the head of the Criminal Investigation Department.

You would agree with what I said, wouldn’t you?”

Upon hearing this, Arthur said nothing.

Instead, he picked up the hat on the table and placed it on his head, looking down at Rowan from his height, which was half a head taller.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly, “What then?

Arthur, would you like to give me a salute?”

With only a slight smile, Arthur replied, “Chief, are you sure you’ve really hidden yourself well?

After all, you are standing right in front of me.”

At that remark, Rowan suddenly remembered that the man before him was the master of close-quarter combat who came out unscathed from 1V17.

He couldn’t help but take a step back.

Seeing the situation turning sour, Inspector Mosley hurriedly came forward to block Arthur, “Let’s get back to the meeting.”

Then, he whispered to Arthur, “Don’t be fooled, Rowan did that on purpose.

If you strike now, you’ll have to pack up and leave by the afternoon.”

Arthur nodded slightly, “Thank you, Inspector Mosley.

But you don’t understand the logic of us young people.

For the sake of argument, I almost ran off to America.”

With those words, he began to slip off his right glove, preparing to throw it at Rowan’s feet.

But before he could toss the glove, a familiar, amiable voice suddenly sounded behind him.

“Arthur, long time no see.

Since graduation, have you continued to study law on your own?”