The high ceilings of Scotland Yard Hall let in plenty of natural light, and through the ornately decorated glass skylights, the light reflects the dappled light on the old timber floors.

At the end of the corridor may be a towering staircase that leads pedestrians up and down the floors of offices, interrogation rooms, and archives.

On both sides of the corridor, there are several sturdy white marble columns, which bear the precipitation of time, the surface is polished smooth and calm, and each texture seems to be engraved with the story of the past.

Built in the 15th century, this building has witnessed the arrival of King James VI of Scotland in England, the fierce battles between the New Model Army and the Royalists under Cromwell, the 1665 London Plague and the Great Fire of London, which burned down 87 churches, 44 companies and 13,000 houses for four days and four nights.

And as the wheel of history slowly moves forward, it will also witness similar things play out here again and again.

The air smells of ink and old paper, mixed with the aged aroma of wooden furniture and tobacco burning.

Occasionally, hurried footsteps echo in the corridor, where the agents of the Criminal Investigation Department and the staff responsible for transmitting domestic security information are on a mission, leaving a tense and orderly work here.

On the railing of the second floor of the hall, a young police officer was leaning on the railing overlooking the busy scene, his white-gloved right hand resting on the king's court sword at his waist, and his pipe in his left hand.

Scotland Yard used to be noisy, but today, apart from the sound of busy footsteps, there was no unwanted noise in Arthur's ears.

Everyone tacitly did not want to say a few words, and the tense air that spread from the upper layers of Britain finally reached here after several days of fermentation.

At this moment, no matter how courageous a man is, he will feel bottomless in his heart, and everyone hopes that someone can stand up and say something, even if it is some nonsense that makes no sense, at least those nonsense can make people feel very relieved to listen to it.

Not only did the officers dare not fight with Arthur, but even the superintendents and assistant superintendents who were not far from Arthur's rank wanted to keep their distance from him.

Article 1 of the London Metropolitan Police Handbook states that police officers should not hold any political positions and should not dictate law enforcement by their personal likes and dislikes.

But, having said that, when the whirlpool has been formed, who can really guarantee that he can be alone.

More than 90 per cent of Scotland Yard's senior police officers have retired from the Army, and that alone speaks volumes about their political stance.

Unfortunately, Arthur is the exception of the ninety-percent.

To make matters worse, the choice of the British prime minister is now undecided, and the positions of ministers are naturally vacant.

At such times, almost all subordinate departments are fighting on their own. Therefore, in addition to some day-to-day administrative tasks, do not expect to be able to get support and help from other departments.

For one, everyone is afraid of taking responsibility.

Second, if you stand in the wrong position at such a time, you will definitely not be able to eat and walk around when the new cabinet candidates are announced.

Don't make controversial remarks, don't act aggressively, and prefer not to do anything wrong than do something wrong, that's the current mentality of most people.

But Arthur apparently didn't think so, and he made promises both to the Duke of Wellington and to Mr. Bentham.

He made few promises to people or to the devil.

But since he has made his choice, he will definitely fulfill it according to the prior agreement.

Arthur looked up, and he saw two familiar figures walking into the hall.

His police secretary, Mr. Louis Bonaparte, and the sharpshooter Thomas Plunkit, head of the 8th Ghost Unit of the Police Intelligence Service.

Arthur took off his hat and shook it at them, and the two of them quickly walked up the stairs and followed him to the office.

The door closed, and Plunkitt's ass was on the stool when he heard Arthur speak.

"Thomas, I'm sorry, I should have given you and your brothers more time to train, but things didn't always go our way. As you can see, there is danger everywhere in London right now, and that's what we police officers don't want to meet. ”

Plunkitt seems to have been prepared for Arthur's words, and as a battle-tested warrior, he has long been accustomed to killing. However, this does not mean that he will shoot at anyone, he also has his concerns and bottom line.

Plunkitt was silent for a while, and then suddenly said, "Sir, I am very grateful to you, I am very grateful to you for promoting me to my current position, giving me a higher position and a decent salary. I'm willing to do anything for you, but...... But there is only one thing that I have to say beforehand. ”

Arthur poured a cup of tea: "Well, Thomas, you say, I'll listen." ”

Plunkitt swallowed, turned his head to look at Louis beside him, and couldn't help but stand up and salute Arthur: "Sir! I'm sorry for you, but I have to say that we, the brethren who retired from the 95th Regiment, would never shoot at the old nose. ”

When Arthur heard this, he paused slightly in pouring tea, and then raised his head and stared at Plunkitt's bowed head for a long time: "Shooting at the Duke of Wellington?" Thomas, how could you mistake me like this? ”

Plunkitt's eyes widened: "Huh? Didn't you come here to do this? ”

"Why do you think that?"

Plunkett scratched his head: "Huh...... Maybe I've been nervous too hard lately. I've heard some people in the hall say you're a very special person......"

Arthur took a sip of tea: "How special?" ”

"It's the kind of special ......"

"Which?"

Plunkitt held back for a long time, and finally explained the truth: "That kind of special thing that is not the same as us." Sir, some of the guys in the hall think you're from the Whigs, on the Reformist side. And you're accompanied by a Bonaparte! Doesn't it sound reasonable that the Bonaparte family wanted to kill the Duke of Wellington? ”

Louie, who was taking notes on the side, heard this, and almost broke the quill in his hand.

He raised his head helplessly, and assured Plunkitt sincerely: "Dude, it is true that our Bonaparte family does not like the Duke of Wellington, but we are not going to behave in such a bad way towards him, eh...... At least I don't have a brain like that. ”

When Arthur heard this, he did not rush to explain the task to Plunkitt, but instead chatted with Plunkitt, trying to calm the subordinate's emotions.

"Thomas, I assure you, if anyone in the hall tells you that I ordered the assassination of the Duke of Wellington, you can immediately shoot him and come to me and use his head to receive a bounty, do you know what I mean?"

Hearing this, Plunkitt finally put his heart back in his stomach, and he sat back in his chair, raising his sleeve and wiping the sweat from his head.

"Sir, I'm relieved to have your words. You may not know what old noses mean to us veterans. A lot of us soldiers hate fighting, but, I mean, but...... If England must serve in the Army, and I am in the Army, then we want the old nose to command us.

Although his military law was strict, every time we fought with him, he would always look out for our interests, and we would never have to fear the enemy. In particular, there are two things that we can rest assured of.

First, no matter how harsh the conditions, we can always be well supplied. Second, whoever the enemy is, even if it is Sirte, Marmont or Napoleon, we will surely be able to beat the enemy to the ground. What more could we ask for than that, for us soldiers?

Every time I see him standing on a hill in low boots, white breeches and a dark blue tuxedo, a white scarf and a tricorne, the big guy feels very relieved. I dare to guarantee you that there is not a single guy who served during the Napoleonic Wars who does not want to serve the old nose. ”

Arthur laughed when he heard this: "Did he dress so plainly when he was fighting?" It's not what I've heard! When I used to talk to the superintendents, I heard them say that most officers like to dress up in fancy clothes and decorate themselves with gold and silver, even when they are fighting. The most typical of these is Horatio Nelson of the Royal Navy, who likes to wear ornate tops with ribbons and jewel-encrusted medals that stand out on the Victory. That's why he let the sniper kill him with a shot near the end of the Battle of Trafalgar. ”

As soon as Plunkitt talked about his past experience, his whole body seemed to become energetic, and he laughed and said, "Yes, most officers like to wear beautiful clothes, and they have to dress themselves up as if they were attending a ball on the battlefield." But Old Nose, like you, is a very special one, he always dresses modestly on the battlefield and never makes a special statement about himself. Because he understands that even if he doesn't wear gold and silver and decorate himself pretentiously, we men know who he is. ”

Arthur asked, "Listen to you, the Duke of Wellington is very close to the soldiers, so you all know him?" ”

"No, no, no."

Plunkitt took the glass full of brandy from Louie's hand, thanked him, and then poured it down, and then spoke.

"Old Nose never jokes with us, that's not his style, and for the most part, he's calm and serious. The man who liked to joke with the soldiers was Marshal Blucher of Prussia, whom I had met once, at Waterloo, when he had just escaped the French with the Prussians, and we met him and his army on the side of the road.

I still remember that the 74-year-old man, despite the bruises all over his limbs, was still in good spirits and in high spirits. He washed his wounds with brandy, poured a bottle of spirits, and though the ride must have been painful for him, he rode to talk to us and tell us jokes. We were in a very low mood at the time, but the old fellow's humor quickly ignited the whole column like wildfire.

I couldn't talk to him, but I just caught a glimpse of him from afar. However, if I have the opportunity, I would very much like to tell the old hero that although he was beaten badly by the French, I am still very happy to see him escape from the pursuit of the French, and I am sure that all the people of the 95th Regiment must have thought so. ”

When Arthur heard this, he replied with great interest: "Hearing you say this, I suddenly feel that war is not so terrible, because there seem to be many interesting things here. ”

Plunkitt's face changed when he heard this, and he waved his hand again and again, "No, sir, you must not think so. You find it interesting because I just picked out the interesting parts to talk about. In fact, when our 95th Regiment was at Waterloo, two-thirds of the officers and more than half of the brothers were killed in the Battle of Four Arms Village.

The 42nd Regiment next door to us was covered by French artillery fire on the first day of the Battle of Four Arms, and in the morning they had 526 men, and by the evening there were only 238 left. You should know the nickname of the 42nd regiment, right? The Black Guards, the Scottish Highland Infantry Regiment, even they are so miserable, not to mention other regiments. At that time, we were almost unable to hold on, and Old Nose also realized that we needed support, so he hurriedly sent the 69th Regiment from Lincolnshire to support.

But it's a pity that the old nose has a vision. But the guy in charge of our right wing is an idiot, the Prince of Orange 'Slim Billy'. He was only 23 years old at the time, and he was a hairy boy who didn't know anything. He ordered several of our regiments to form a horizontal formation to meet the enemy, and several battalion commanders of our 95th Regiment lodged a solemn protest with him, but this guy remained stubborn.

And when the order to form a horizontal column was communicated to the regiments, Kellerman's cuirassiers were on a rampage between our units. Switching formations allowed them to spot our weaknesses at once and take the opportunity to attack. The 73rd Regiment hastily withdrew into the dense bushes to take shelter due to its close enough proximity to the Bossu woods. The 33rd Regiment barely formed a phalanx defense, but the 69th Regiment was miserable, they were trapped in the center of the battlefield and were violently charged by the cavalry.

The chaotic change of formation resulted in the 69th Regiment being annihilated on the spot, and their royal flag was also captured by the French, with only a few fleeing to the nearby friendly formation. You may not know what a shame it can be for us soldiers to lose their flags. The flag has an almost occult meaning, and in order to defend it, soldiers can fight like demons.

When the 69th Regiment found out that their flag was lost, they really went crazy like this. Christopher Clark, the flag bearer of the 69th Regiment, found that he had lost the flag, and immediately re-entered the encirclement with red eyes, and single-handedly killed three French cuirassiers. When he comes out with the flag of the 69th regiment, my God! I couldn't believe my eyes.

He had 22 stab wounds on his body, and there was no good flesh on his body, and the wounds were bleeding everywhere. But God willing, this guy's vitality is very tenacious, maybe God also thinks he is a good person, so he survived in the end, and later joined the 42nd Scottish Highland Infantry Regiment to continue to serve. ”

When Arthur heard this, he suddenly raised his hand and motioned to Plunkitt to stop: "Wait...... Thomas, that flag bearer Christopher Clarke you were talking about? Could it be that we are here in charge of interrogation...... Inspector Clark? ”

Plunkitt nodded slightly, "That's right, it's him." Sir, you should know by now why no one in the hall dares to argue with Inspector Clark, right? Even Chief Rowan and Sir Mayne usually have a lot of respect for him. ”

Speaking of this, Plunkitt was still a little unsure, he hesitated for a long time with his wine glass, and added: "Your Excellency, someone like Superintendent Clark, or someone like me, will never make a move against the Duke of Wellington." Because he is a person, to us soldiers, he is like the flag of the entire British Army, and if anyone touches him, we will all have red eyes. ”

(End of chapter)