Shadow of great britain

London is always very dangerous at night. At the last moment when the sun sinks into the horizon, smart London citizens usually choose to hide home early to enjoy the little sense of security, while the nightlife of stupid and unafraid of death drunkards has just begun. start.

If there was any business that was guaranteed to make a profit in 19th-century London, then opening a cheap tavern would definitely be the best choice.

Of course, in order to have a good relationship with his patrons, the tavern owner must have some of the same qualities as the guests. If these qualities are not stupid, then he can only risk his life.

The most lifeless publican in London is naturally Judd Martin, the owner of the Martin's Beer House in Whitechapel.

As usual, just an hour after the tavern opened, the farce that happened almost every day happened here.

A very drunk guest didn't know what was irritating him. He stood on a stool with one foot, raised his glass in his hand and cursed: "Big... everyone is looking at me. I want to tell you something." truth!"

The other guests all turned their attention to him, with countless confused eyes flashing on their faces with unhealthy redness.

"What are you going to say, bro?"

"You... hiccup, are you going to declare that you are a fool?"

"I'm tired of hearing this joke. If you say such corny things again, I'm going to punch you hard on the jaw."

The customer just burped with wine and said: "I want to tell you, all the lawyers in the world are idiots! I gave them so much money, but I still can't win my lawsuit! They are a bunch of authentic London lawyers. Ruffian!"

When a drunk guest heard this, he suddenly put one hand on the table and straightened his back: "Sir, you... I ask you to take back your words, I will not allow you to insult me ​​like this, you He’s just fucking farting!”

"What's wrong? Are you a lawyer?"

"No!" The guest burped and dropped his old felt hat: "I'm a fucking London gangster."

As soon as he finished speaking, bursts of laughter erupted in the tavern, and a few faint sounds like donkeys' crowing could be heard.

At this moment, the bar door of the tavern was pushed open, and Arthur, wearing a black trench coat, walked into the tavern with a pipe in his mouth. He frowned and glanced inside the room, and asked Mr. Martin: "There are new dishes in the store." Yeah? I thought Londoners didn’t eat donkeys.”

When Mr. Martin saw the big patron coming, he hurriedly put down the beer glass he was wiping and greeted him: "Mr. Hastings, are you kidding me? We have some good stuff here, don't we have to reserve a portion for you first?" Where can I get you a Scotsman at this point?"

He took the coat he took off from Arthur and shouted to the kitchen in a hurry: "Annie! Anne! Mr. Hastings is here, prepare everything that needs to be prepared and send it to the second floor in a moment!" "

Arthur did not rush upstairs, but leaned against the hall pillar on the first floor and looked at the guests in the tavern.

As expected, it didn't take long for him to spot a few familiar faces, and he called out a few names casually: "Brown, Taylor, Wilkins, you three, stay safe and don't do anything wrong. Scotland Yard Life has been tough recently. If you hit the muzzle of a gun, don’t blame me for not reminding you. Although your eldest sister has probably given you the order, I think it’s best to emphasize it to you just to be on the safe side. Once again, do you understand?"

The three hooligans lay on the wine table and raised their hands slightly, but judging from their unfocused eyes, they probably couldn't hear what they said.

Seeing this, Arthur just blew out smoke: "I hope you won't regret it until you step on the exile ship. At your age, you can no longer win the sympathy of the jury."

After saying this, he walked up the stairs into the private room on the second floor.

And here, one of his old friends has been waiting for him for a long time.

As soon as he entered the room, Arthur saw a heavy machine placed on the table in the room, and sitting next to the machine was a haggard Wheatstone.

Arthur opened his arms and smiled: "Charles, my most reliable chief scientific adviser to the London Police Intelligence Bureau, I knew you would not disappoint me. Although the delivery date is a full half a year later than we expected. , but fortunately you finally overcame the technical difficulties and delivered it to me when I needed it most."

Wheatstone let out a long sigh: "If I had known that this thing was so difficult to make, I shouldn't have taken your order in the first place. The complexity of this thing is simply not on the same level as a gramophone. I spent a lot of money to make it well. It took me three or four months to supplement my electromagnetic knowledge. Fortunately, the theories you proposed are correct, so I can hurry up and deliver the goods today.

But, Arthur, I have to remind you that this thing is much more expensive than a gramophone, and since sound needs to be converted into electromagnetic signals, the steel wire used in this wire recorder must be of extremely high purity. In other words, this thing cannot be transferred to the civilian field on a large scale in a short period of time. "

Wheatstone thought that Arthur would be furious when he heard this, but unexpectedly, instead of being angry, Arthur nodded with satisfaction: "Well done, Charles, this is just what I wanted."

Wheatstone was stunned for a long time. After a long time, he tilted his head and frowned and asked: "Arthur, is there something wrong with your head? When you held the concert, you wanted to maximize profits and recorded it secretly. Those exclusive recordings for musicians. Why don’t you care about the commercial benefits of the product now?”

Arthur walked to the tape recorder that was almost half a meter long, held his chin and looked up and down, and murmured: "Although this volume is a bit big, I guess it won't work if you want to install it secretly, but Fortunately, not many people know about it..."

When Wheatstone heard this, the hairs on his body almost stood up. He finally understood why Arthur asked him to make this thing.

Wheatstone stammered and asked: "Ah...Arthur, you...you don't want to...that's illegal!"

When Arthur heard this, he just smiled slightly, raised his eyebrows and asked: "Charles, is there any law in Britain that prohibits recording?"

"This..." Wheatstone's brain short-circuited for a while. He savored it carefully and suddenly said in shock: "This... it seems that there really isn't... the tape recorder has just come out, how can there be legislation? But... with all due respect , this is immoral after all!”

Arthur pulled a chair and sat down, picked up the teapot on the table and poured himself a cup: "Immoral? Oh, my dear Charles, I don't know when you found a place to be a priest. Besides, Aren’t you going to hear what I’m going to record with it?”

Wheatstone asked, "What are you going to record with it?"

Arthur sipped the lipstick tea: "Of course these are some private recordings that are not suitable for public disclosure."

"Isn't that immoral?"

Arthur gently shook his finger: "Charles, you can't say that. In our York countryside, there is a saying - you can't pee in the basin you eat in, because you have to use it yourself. Although this is It sounds vulgar, but the truth is this. If I tell you now that the London Police Intelligence Bureau may be canceled due to the lack of this recording, and the scientific research funds you invested will be lost, then you should How to deal with it?”

"This..." Wheatstone asked suspiciously: "Is the matter so serious?"

Arthur smiled and replied: "Oh, Charles, you are very lucky, you are a scientist, not a Scotland Yard policeman. So you have no idea what kind of trouble we are in now, and you don't have to have any concerns about it, but……"

As soon as Arthur said this, there was a knock on the door.

Immediately afterwards, there was a voice that sounded like falling into a candy jar: "Mr. Hastings, my sweetheart, you asked me over so late, it seems that you have figured it out? You finally realized that I am worth it" Two hundred pounds?"

When Arthur heard this, he just pointed behind Wheatstone: "Look, Charles, what am I talking about? This is what I face every day."

Wheatstone just swallowed: "Really? Why do I think it's actually quite tempting? But what about the two hundred pounds?"

Arthur did not answer Wheatstone's question. He just stood up and opened the door, grabbed Fiona's arm and pulled her into the room.

As soon as Fiona entered the room, the smile on her face froze instantly. He glanced at Wheatstone who nodded to him with a shy smile on his face, then turned to look at Arthur in the dark, and suddenly his eyes widened. Almond-like eyes asked: "Hastings, what do you mean? I am not such a casual woman. I have to consider if you double the money."

"Madam, you think it's too easy to make money."

Arthur sat back on the chair, leaned back and asked, "Where's the intelligence? After following Mr. Harrison for three days, I can't get nothing."

When Fiona heard this, she just curled her lips in dissatisfaction, then gently pinched her hands, took out an envelope from her bra and threw it on the table: "Ha! It's really no fun, working like this every day, why didn't I treat you like this? Are you exhausted?"

Arthur was not angry when he heard this, but took out a small bottle from his pocket and threw it towards Fiona.

"What's this?"

Fiona caught the bottle and looked down. Through the light that was not too bright, she could vaguely see the amber semi-viscous liquid flowing in the small transparent glass bottle, and there were also inscriptions on the surface of the bottle. With its brand name - Ruimei.

Fiona was slightly stunned: "This..."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and asked, "So, can you go back to work now?"

"You want to get rid of me with just a bottle of perfume?" Fiona snorted disdainfully: "Please, I'm not the kind of innocent teenage girl. Your approach is too cliché."

"Well, you are indeed a shrewd woman." A look of regret appeared on Arthur's face. He took out the hot note from his jacket pocket: "Then take this and return the perfume to me."

"Return it to you? If anything falls into my hands, it will naturally belong to me." Fiona covered her eyes with her hands and pretended to cry: "Oh! Asking a lovely lady for something to give away, Mr. Hastings, Although you are a policeman, even if you pretend to be a bit of a gentleman, you still have to pretend to be a gentleman, right?"

"Okay, okay." Arthur opened the envelope and took a look at it, then shook the ticket at Fiona: "Since you did a good job, the ticket and the perfume are yours, but I have to make it clear in advance that this is just this time and will not be repeated in the future."

Upon hearing this, Fiona leaned forward and held the note with her hands, dangling for a long time. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She stared at Arthur's face for a long time, but in the end, she retracted her hands.

The blond mixed-race girl snorted from her nose with dissatisfaction: "Come on, if I take this money, you will probably have to find a reason to quit me someday. Forget it, a bottle of perfume will cost you just one A bottle of perfume is better than getting nothing at all. But, Mr. Hastings, as you said, it’s just this once, and we won’t do it again.”

After saying this, Fiona lifted up her skirt, put one foot behind her and slightly bent her knees to perform a standard ladylike greeting: "Well, good night, Mr. Hastings. I hope that when I see you in the evening, you will Not with a man. After such a long time, I have made some progress. Even though I am a vulgar woman, after staying in the embassy for half a year, I have still learned these complicated upper-class etiquette."

With the gentle sound of the door closing, Wheatstone's glowing eyes also dimmed. He couldn't help but shook his head and said, "What a beautiful lady."

Arthur also withdrew his attention from Fiona. He put his hands into the inner pockets of his vest, seeming to be groping for something.

Seeing his appearance, Wheatstone couldn't help but wonder: "Arthur, what are you doing?"

As soon as he finished speaking, there was a tinkling sound in his ears. Arthur spread his hands and placed a pile of colorful perfume bottles on the table.

Wheatstone scratched his head: "Where did you go to buy the goods? There are enough perfumes to open a perfume store."

Under Wheatstone's confused eyes, Arthur calmly took a puff of cigarette. He put his arms on the table and asked, "Charles."

"What's wrong?"

Arthur pointed to the perfume bottle on the table and said with some embarrassment: "You are a scientist who is obsessed with research, so you may not care about this. So let me introduce it to you first. This is the most fashionable perfume in London at the moment. Brand - Rimmel. Each bottle of perfume is carefully prepared by Mr. Rimmel, a famous French perfumer. And as you just saw, each bottle of perfume is worth two hundred pounds. But since we are old friends , I can’t cheat you, let’s just give you a discount, here are ten bottles, even if you give me a thousand pounds, we can just settle the payment for the recorder, do you think that’s okay?”