Shadow of great britain

There was a lot of traffic outside Whitehall Street, and Arthur walked out of the coffee shop, followed by Bernie Harrison like a defeated rooster.

"Mr. Hastings, what do you think of the proposal I just made..."

Arthur put the documents into his coat and said: "Mr. Harrison, as I just said, although I am personally willing to reconcile with you, I have no say in this matter. You and Scotland I will need to ask Director Luo Wan for instructions on matters between the parties later. As for the document you just handed me, I still need to carefully consider the appropriate way to hand it over to you."

"Transfer?" Harrison said in astonishment: "This...are you not interested in the Polish issue? If you were not interested, why did you publish those articles in "The British"?"

After hearing this, Arthur finally understood why Harrison came to him with this document.

He must have identified Arthur as a liberal fighter who fought tirelessly to defend Poland's independence, just like Lord Byron who went directly to fight the Ottoman Turks for Greek independence.

After all, this kind of people were not uncommon in the turbulent 19th century, and this kind of people had always been very productive on the small island of Britain.

But it is obvious that Harrison got the wrong person this time.

Arthur took off his hat and dusted off the cigarette ash on the brim: "Mr. Harrison, I am a Scotland Yard policeman. Although I can barely be regarded as an intellectual, an intellectual who can climb to this position in Scotland Yard has this experience. Isn’t that enough for you to see through the essence of me?

Singing praises for the revolution is what a poet should do. As a police officer, my job is to hide in the dark and observe them quietly. As for Poland, I certainly sympathize with the Polish people and I am willing to shed a few tears for their plight, but how can that help them?

Please forgive my short-sightedness, but the furthest I can see is the East End of London. The document you sent me is not as valuable as you think. If Sir Peel would accept it, it might help improve his poor impression of you. As for my favor, please remember that you have not paid it back yet. "

At this point, Arthur patted Harrison's shoulder gently, leaned down and whispered in his ear: "Don't think about running away, you can't escape the eyes of Scotland Yard. Mr. Harrison, feel free to read at home. Read the newspaper and I will contact you again when needed. I heard from Mr. Ruimei that your company's cosmetics have always been very good, and the ratio of arsenic elements has always been clever."

When Harrison heard this, his lips turned white, his whole body was trembling, and his forehead was covered with sweat. After a long time, he took off his hat and smiled reluctantly: "Then we'll see you again, Mr. Hastings. If you can help me with the parliamentary matter, I'm willing to pay a reasonable reward. Three A bill of exchange for a thousand pounds, whether it's from the Rothschild Bank, Barings Bank or the Bank of England, as long as it's convenient for you. That's all I ask, please consider it."

As soon as he finished speaking, Harrison got into the carriage with stiff steps.

Somehow, he always felt like he was being stared at by a carrion-eating vulture when talking to this young man.

Those eyes with a faint red glow always made him feel as if his neck was on the gallows, and it would only take a word to kill him.

Harrison leaned on the seat of the carriage. Only then did he realize that his shirt had been soaked with sweat. The shirt clung to his skin, making him feel uncomfortable all over.

As the carriage started shakingly, he couldn't help but curse: "Arthur Hastings, the best police officer in Great Britain, the outstanding pianist famous in London, the electromagnetic lunatic of the Royal Society, so this is it." ?”

Arthur watched his car disappear around the corner, took out a cigar box from his pocket, put it in his mouth and lit it: "Three thousand pounds..."

Agares, who was leaning against the lamppost, grinned and said, "Oh, Arthur, do you want to think about it? This money is almost enough for three Freds. Having said that, although you are now It can be considered a small fortune, but all your assets have turned into shares of Road and Bridge Company and shares of "The British" on the stock exchange. With these three thousand pounds, we can seriously hire a few Servant, please bring a few more cases of Chateau de Lysaluna. Oh, to be honest, since I tasted the bottle of Chateau de Luxe given by the Duke of Wellington, I no longer have the taste for other wines. .”

Arthur blew out a smoke ring: "It's okay to buy a few bottles of the Lysaluna family's products, but, Agares, it's too much for you to mention Jinzhuang by name. Can't you consider ancient times?" Are they sub-level products like Dai and Feiyue? Anyway, they are both run by the Lysaluna family, and they are also grapes from the Sauternes region of France, so the difference shouldn't be that big, right?"

The Red Devil heard this and said with disgust: "How can these be the same? First of all, their prices are different. Secondly, the bottle sent by the Duke of Wellington is the best of the best. It was brewed in 1815. You can feel the noble rot in one sip. The unique aroma of the wine, and you can still smell the artillery fire of Waterloo on the tip of your nose. How can this be the same? However, it is such a good wine, but you let that Jew ruin half of it. Arthur, what else do you have to say now? ?"

"Jew? Isn't King Solomon also a Jew?" Arthur curled his lips and said: "Not only that, but he is also a Jew who has been dead for three thousand years. I have never seen you slander him."

The red devil heard this and slapped his hand on the lamppost. He emphasized: "How can it be the same? Just as Chateau Dikin is the king of wine, King Solomon is also the king of Jews!"

"So what? Just as the Superintendent of Scotland Yard is still a blue lobster, Benjamin may be the Prime Minister among Jews, but in the end he is still a Jew in your mouth."

Arthur puffed on his cigar and looked around. He was about to reach out to stop a carriage, but what he didn't expect was that before he could reach out, a carriage with a black and gold-trimmed cloak slowly stopped. in front of him.

The window of the carriage was gently lifted, revealing a familiar silver-haired old man.

"It's a nice day today, boy from Scotland Yard. Do you know why I don't like Fouche but like you? That's the difference between you and Fouche. That bastard Fouche works at least eighteen hours a day. Except Apart from grabbing more power, his life has no fun. But you are different from him. You have a good balance between work and rest. Just like me when I was young, I started touching people in coffee shops before twelve o'clock. Fish. If cabinet ministers all over Europe worked like the two of us, there wouldn’t be so many problems.”

Arthur also knew how to deal with this old playboy. He took off his hat and said hello: "Mr. Talleyrand, at this point you are not playing cards, but hanging out on Whitehall Street. Has your work intensity increased recently? Too quickly?"

Talleyrand laughed loudly after hearing this and said: "There is no way, the king sent an order from Paris, asking me to have a good talk with your foreign minister about the Polish issue. As the French ambassador, I can't always just eat and do nothing, right? I Although I am older, I still have to move occasionally, otherwise it will be difficult to ask Paris for funds for the embassy’s activities.”

Arthur asked: "But seeing that you came back so early, I guess today's meeting didn't go well?"

"Well..." Talleyrand raised his white eyebrows gently: "I'm not in a good mood anyway. Do you have any money with you?"

Arthur took out his wallet from his arms and counted the bills one by one: "Five pounds is not too small. I still have a few pennies in my pocket. Do you want it?"

Talleyrand raised his cane and knocked on the car window: "Come up here. If you lose too much, you can give me an IOU."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, and he hooked his hand at the red devil squatting on the street corner: "It seems that our Dijin Village is settled."

Arthur got into Talleyrand's carriage, which was much more spacious than the carriages he usually took. There was also a small wine rack and a few glasses placed in the corner of the carriage. At a glance, it was clear that Talleyrand was often there. Have a few drinks in the car.

While cutting the cards, Talleyrand said: "You can take whatever you want to drink, but be careful to hold the glass carefully. If it spills on you, don't blame me for soiling your fine clothes. By the way, what did you smoke? Cigars, West Indian?”

"I don't know where it comes from. I bought it from the Newton store on Jermyn Street." Arthur nodded: "But Alexander said this tastes authentic, so I believe him as an expert."

When Talleyrand heard this, he smiled and said: "This is one of the places where I think London is better than Paris. In London you can find any commodity produced anywhere in the world. Whether it is tobacco from West India, tobacco from East India Spices, tea from China or dried grapes from Iberia or France, you can find them all here.”

While touching the poker, Arthur asked: "So, are you going to go to Savile Row to order a top-notch morning dress, or are you going to Jermyn Street to buy a few boxes of cigars like the ones I have?"

"Forget shopping, women are the experts at this. I'm not in a good mood today, so I don't intend to make it worse. I want to find something happy for myself, Like going to a boxing match or something.”

"Boxing match?" Arthur's brows couldn't help but jump twice when he heard about this sport.

Talleyrand caught a glimpse of his reaction and asked lightly: "What? I thought a young man like you would like to watch boxing matches."

Arthur threw out a card, rubbed his chest and said calmly: "I can't say whether I like boxing matches or not, but as a policeman, I have always hated all kinds of large-scale sports. Take boxing as an example, every time There are boxing champion-level fights, and the number of people watching them is always in the thousands.

If you have been paying attention to the London boxing match, you may have heard others talk about last year’s challenge between Simon Bourne and Sandy McKay against boxing champion Jem Ward. That match attracted nearly 10,000 people. People came to watch the game. In order to maintain order at the scene, Scotland Yard directly removed 500 elites from each police district.

As you may have guessed, I, a guy who would hang out in the coffee shop at twelve o'clock, was also caught in the act. I was responsible for maintaining order at the boxing match. "

When Talleyrand heard this, he couldn't help but start to laugh: "Really? I heard that the scene that day seemed very tragic."

Arthur frowned and said: "That scene can no longer be described as tragic. The two idiots Simon Byrne and Sandy McKay were killed two against one by Jem Ward. Simon Byrne In the third round, he was knocked out with heavy punches. Sandy McKay fell to the ground five times in 12 rounds, but he couldn't save face every time and had to get up. As a result, he was beaten so hard that his orifices bled and he died on the spot.

The gamblers in the audience collapsed when they saw this situation, and supporters on both sides began to yell at each other. When the situation developed, beer bottles were flying all over the place. The deadbeat gamblers took advantage of the chaos to try to get their gambling money back. After seeing the blood, the drunkards also had the idea of ​​​​gesticulating with others. Ladies screamed and ran around holding up their skirts, and gangs of thieves in London's east and west boroughs took advantage of the opportunity to make a fortune.

If we hadn't brought fifty guns with us that day, fired several rounds into the air, and had a relatively sufficient police force on site, it's probably not just McKay in the ring who would have died in the end. But even so, after the boxing match, our group of policemen were still more or less stained, and a few unlucky guys almost had their bottles opened. "

Talleyrand laughed loudly after hearing this and said: "It seems that the boxing match in London is more lively than I thought. This is probably the most lively sports event, right?"

Arthur laughed at himself after hearing this: "That's not true, there is something more fucked up than this. Mr. Talleyrand, do you know the traditional festival of Stamford County's Running of the Bulls?"

"Running of the Bulls? What's going on?"

Arthur said: "The Running of the Bulls is a very old festival in Stamford County. If you trace it back, it may be traced back hundreds of years. Every November, several injured bulls in estrus are released onto the streets. Villagers from dozens of villages gather in the streets to party, and almost every few years some people die.

People from the British Society for the Protection of Animals have always regarded this festival as an eyesore, and they sue the organizers of the Running of the Bulls in court almost every year. They claim that this festival is inhumane to both humans and bulls. However, the local magistrate believed that the Running of the Bulls was a historical tradition in Stamford County and completely ignored the SPCA's appeal.

People from the Animal Welfare Association saw that there was no way to go through the court, so they united with their old comrades-the Wesleyan clergy. The priests are also deeply abhorred by this kind of behavior. They often work with the Animal Protection Association to make great efforts to combat bullfighting and cockfighting.

After the Animal Welfare Society and Wesleyan priests were gored by bulls, Parliament finally made up its mind to completely eradicate the bad habit of the Running of the Bulls that had lasted for hundreds of years. The year before last, when I first joined Scotland Yard, I happened to be lucky enough to participate in that operation.

You may not believe it, but it was a big scene that day. The police, army, cavalry and local police officers filled the streets. Those who didn't know it thought Britain was at war with France again. "

Talleyrand sipped his wine: "So, did you succeed in the end?"

Arthur shrugged helplessly: "Unfortunately, although in the parliamentary report, that operation was described as a draw, in my opinion, it was a pretty bad operation. The parliament's troop increase plan aroused hostility from the locals. In the mood, farmers held pitchforks to clear the way for the bulls, and the farmers generously sponsored several times more bulls than in previous years.

The Cavalry Guards lost three of their best horses in the battle, and several soldiers of the Fifth Royal Infantry Regiment were almost pushed to the eaves. This happened to both the cavalry and the army. We Scotland Yard policemen could only hold the civilized The rod directs traffic. Ultimately, according to Stamford County documentation, casualties at that year's Running of the Bulls may have been the worst in recent decades. "

When Talleyrand heard this, he laughed so hard that he couldn't close his mouth. He swung his wine glass and said, "So, in the end, the Parliament compromised?"

"You can't say compromise. Sir Peel won't like that."

Arthur curled his lips and said: "After getting angry, Sir Peel immediately went to the Ministry of Finance to hold an impromptu meeting. The day after the meeting, the Ministry of Finance proposed to Parliament a proposal for housing in the area hosting the Running of the Bulls. There is a bill to impose an extra 6p per pound on rent. The Treasury has also threatened that if Stamfordshire does not show a willingness to improve the situation, this tax may continue to increase in the future.”

Talleyrand couldn't help but smile when he heard this: "This solution is really British. In my opinion, since the tax increase, the situation of the Running of the Bulls must have been greatly improved."

Arthur nodded slightly and said: "You are right about this. The scale of the Running of the Bulls has indeed continued to shrink in the past two years."

"Well... if you look at it this way, the dangers of boxing matches and bull-running festivals are quite high, so aren't there any more civilized sports?"

Arthur took a sip of wine: "There are also civilized ones, such as rowing and so on. By the way, have you gone to see the Oxbridge Boat Race organized by Oxford and Cambridge in the past two years? It was held on the Thames River in late March and early April. One game.

If anything else, it’s the equestrian competition that’s popular all over Europe. The Derby Horse Race held every June is also considered a major sports event in Britain. Last year, the total number of spectators along the route should have been more than 100,000.

But you must be tired of watching horse racing in Paris, and you don't have much sense of participation. So, if you are looking for a sport to relieve your boredom, why not try golf today?

A friend of mine has been inviting me to practice my skills at the Royal Blackheath Club. If you don't mind it, why don't you go to the Financial City now? Let's take him with us, and we can find you someone else to keep you company. What do you think? "