The Shadow of Great Britain

Since the establishment of the London Metropolitan Police Headquarters in 1829, Scotland Yard, located at 4 Whitehall Street, has been temporarily transformed into police headquarters.

Speaking of the origin of the name Scotland Yard, we must trace back to the 15th century during the Tudor period, when it was the residence of Scottish envoys and nobility in London and once served as the London palace for the King of Scotland.

However, although Scotland Yard was considered one of the best houses in London centuries ago, after the Kingdom of Scotland and the Kingdom of England merged into the Kingdom of Great Britain, Scotland Yard gradually became a government office and dormitory for the Foreign Office, and by the 18th century, even the bureaucrats of the Foreign Office were reluctant to live in these old houses, so Scotland Yard was converted into stables and warehouses.

For this reason, although the location of Scotland Yard is excellent, adjacent to the power center of Whitehall, its buildings were not originally prepared for officers.

At that time, Ministers Charles Rowan and Richard Mayne barely managed to set up a few offices in the old building, lime the walls, and place some heavy desks and iron filing cabinets, and that was considered the ”headquarters.”

Of course, compared to eight years ago when it was first established, the interior of Scotland Yard now has a completely different look.

However, refurbishment is not reconstruction, and the corridors here still follow the layout of the old residence—long and winding, with doors close to each other. During peak working hours, clerks and officers carrying dossiers brush past each other, much like the market at Covent Garden.

Over the years, as the police force expanded from its initial 3,000 members, the rooms inside became increasingly cramped.

Various administrative documents, patrol logs, case files, and financial records piled up like mountains and often had to be temporarily placed in wooden boxes alongside the corridors.

Officers often have to squeeze past when walking past the archives and the Criminal Records Center.

However, even though office space is so tight, the newly established Police Commissioner Committee was still temporarily set up to work here.

The reason given was rather high-sounding, saying that it would facilitate communication with Scotland Yard and make it easier to report unexpected situations to the Home Office on the same street promptly.

Arthur closed the office door, and just as his gloved fingertips left the copper handle, he heard a rapid scratching of a pen from the next room, occasionally accompanied by a few muffled coughs.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, walked over, and gently knocked on the next door.

”Come in.”

Minister Rowan was hunched over the desk, with several piles of reports clipped together with iron fasteners. He glanced up at Arthur, then buried himself back in work.

Arthur smiled and said, ”Boss.”

Rowan, without lifting his head, said, ”I’ve told you before, don’t call me boss anymore. You can call me Charles or Rowan.”

”Alright, old buddy.” Arthur joked, ”Looks like we’re now like two coats hanging side by side on the wall.”

Rowan chuckled, ”Yes! The Home Office says it’s to save costs, so they merged the Police Commissioner Committee with Scotland Yard for joint work. They say it’s for better communication, but I think it’s just so we can keep an eye on each other.”

Just as Rowan finished speaking, Deputy Minister Richard Mayne pushed the door open, holding a stack of dossiers as thick as bricks, followed by a young clerk carrying a blue document bag half his height.

”Charles,” he said as he elbowed the door open, ”the files you’ve signed off on have been sent back by the Treasury again...”

Before he finished speaking, Mayne’s peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of another person in the room, causing him to momentarily pause, almost dropping the files from his hands.

”Arthur’s here too?” He frowned with a hint of surprise in his voice, ”Oh, I almost forgot, you started working next door today, right?”

Rowan gestured to the corner of the room, indicating for Mayne’s young clerk to place the document bag on the iron cabinet in the corner: ”Just put it there.”

The young clerk wisely placed the files down and bowed out, while Mayne turned around after closing the door and began to criticize the Treasury: ”I’ve really had enough of those people. They’re constantly cutting our budget, as if all the deficits are caused by Scotland Yard.”

Arthur listened to these internal complaints from Scotland Yard, leaning against the window with arms crossed, saying, ”It’s easier to cut the police budget than that of the Royal Navy and Army, right? Behind the Royal Navy is His Majesty the King and the Whig Party’s admirals, and behind the Army is the Duke of Wellington and the Conservative Party’s land nobility. Compared to the Royal Navy and Army, we’re just the easiest soft targets.”

Hearing this, Mayne put down the files in his hands and sighed, ”Even soft targets need someone to squeeze them. The fact that the Treasury can keep sending the accounts back shows they know we’re too afraid to say anything. But now it’s different... the Committee has come in.”

Rowan frowned at this: ”Richard...”

Mayne pretended not to hear, ”Arthur, your committee is under the Home Office, right? The documents say the committee’s role is to supervise and improve, but I’m pondering... does that mean even the finances will be under your control?”

He pulled a budget sheet from the pile of documents and slapped it on the desk, tapping on the densely packed numbers: ”For instance, how many patrol officers we plan to add, how much money we should spend on police equipment... will it all need to go through you guys in the future?”