## Chapter 184: Blue-Skinned Beasts
The morning mist clung to the streets of Westminster, the wheels of carriages splashing through puddles as they rolled along.
Arthur stood on Whitehall Street, his breath forming white puffs in the damp air. He looked up at the throngs of men and women, each with an umbrella shielding them from the drizzle.
He removed his gloves, preparing to push open the grand doors of the Metropolitan Police headquarters. But before he could take a step, a familiar voice rang out behind him.
“Arthur?”
Arthur turned to see an elderly gentleman standing behind him, his physique sturdy and his spirit vibrant. He wore leather gloves and held a black umbrella.
Arthur smiled at the gentleman’s silvering temples. “Magistrate, leaving so early today?”
“Not early, I’m retired!” The magistrate roared with laughter. “Congratulations to me, Arthur! I’ve finally escaped that cursed courtroom and can now enjoy my retirement pension in the countryside.”
“That’s certainly something to be congratulated for,” Arthur replied with a smile. “I have to say, I envy your life. A retirement pension – not many departments can offer that. I can only pray to God that Scotland Yard will have established a pension system by the time I retire.”
The magistrate laughed heartily. “You probably don’t know, but even Magistrates weren’t initially entitled to pensions. When the pension system was first established in 1590, only retired Royal Navy officers were eligible.
Later, the Parliament included the Army in the system. By the 17th and 18th centuries, government departments, public services, and civil sectors like the Magistrates’ court began to receive this benefit.
I believe police officers will have pensions sooner or later. As you know, the government is all about practicality nowadays. As long as you can create results and make them realize that Scotland Yard’s role is far greater than the funds they provide, Parliament and the Cabinet will eventually consider giving Scotland Yard officers a decent retirement life.
Arthur, remember what I told you before? With you around, everything will be fine. You’re a natural in law enforcement. Look at how many major cases you’ve cracked in just one year. If Scotland Yard didn’t have a capable officer like you, I bet those people at the Home Office would be lost.”
Arthur shrugged, half-jokingly. “I wouldn’t dare dream of a pension right now. I’m just hoping they’ll finally pay Scotland Yard’s performance bonus for the past six months.”
The magistrate looked surprised. “The Home Office is holding back your performance bonus?”
Arthur sighed. “Of course. You know, Scotland Yard’s funding comes entirely from local security taxes. Whenever Superintendent Rowan goes to the Home Office to ask for funds, we get the same response: ‘Due to the difficulty in collecting security taxes from some parishes, we can only temporarily allocate basic wages. As for the performance bonus for the past six months, we’ll have to wait.’ ”
The magistrate frowned. “Taxes not coming in? What the hell are the Treasury doing? Those damn fools are just drawing their salaries and doing absolutely nothing. And the Home Office is taking you for granted. Why don’t they go to the Treasury and urge them to release the funds?
I tell you, those guys are probably used to the benefits Scotland Yard brings them and think it’s all your duty. If you suddenly decide to walk away one day, those arrogant bastards with their noses in the air will finally know what it means to be powerful.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “You guessed right. I heard that the Home Office gentlemen have been giving Scotland Yard a nickname in private.”
“Nickname? What nickname?”
Arthur breathed out a puff of white air to warm his hands. “I heard they call us ‘Blue-Skinned Beasts.'”
“Blue-Skinned Beasts?” The magistrate scoffed, slamming his cane heavily on the wet cobblestone floor. “That’s outrageous! They don’t do any work themselves, yet they have so much to say when they see others working?”
Arthur raised his hand to stop the old magistrate’s anger. “It’s nothing serious. I think it’s probably because they’re upset about Scotland Yard’s collective pay rise recently. It’s already tight maintaining Scotland Yard’s daily operations with the security tax, so Scotland Yard’s pay increase came out of the Home Office’s administrative budget. They took our money, so of course they’re not happy.
Forget about those depressing things. Magistrate, you’re retiring, I’m actually a little sad. When I first joined Scotland Yard, I practically saw you every day. It’s always disheartening to see a colleague with exceptional work ability and a strong sense of responsibility leave.”
The magistrate felt refreshed by the compliment and chuckled. “It’s nothing serious. The person who replaces me will surely do better than me and won’t cause any trouble for you at Scotland Yard.”
“Oh? Have you decided on the new magistrate?”
The magistrate teased, “Maybe you should consider training at one of the four Inns of Court in London. Your qualifications meet their entry requirements. Even though you didn’t graduate from Oxford or Cambridge, you still have a university degree.
Plus, I’ve been here for so many years, I have some influence. I’ll use my old face to get them to reserve this position for you for a few years. This job is not as easy as Scotland Yard, but the pay is good. You’ll earn at least £1000 a year.”
Arthur knew the magistrate was joking, so he responded in jest. “If that’s the case, you should just put this position up for sale. I bet many people would be willing to pay a high price for it. Then you can use the money from selling the position to pay for my tuition at the four Inns of Court. It costs £300 a year, which is beyond the reach of a ‘Blue-Skinned Beast’ like me.”
“Hahaha,” the magistrate roared with laughter. “Then farewell, Arthur, good luck to you.”
Arthur took off his hat and said goodbye. “May you have a fulfilling retirement.”
After parting ways with the magistrate, Arthur took a deep breath and pushed open the grand doors of the Metropolitan Police headquarters.
“Good morning, Inspector Hastings.”
“Good morning…”
Arthur greeted his busy colleagues as he walked through the corridors and the lobby, familiar with the way. He climbed the stairs and reached the door of his office.
As he entered, he saw several Inspectors standing up and saluting him. They had been waiting for him.
“Inspector Hastings.”
Arthur glanced at them. “You’re all here early.”
The Inspectors smiled. “We’re used to it.”
Arthur didn’t waste time with small talk. He untied his scarf, took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack in the office, then pulled at his tight white shirt collar and sat down in his chair.
He picked up a few files from the stack on his desk. He held them up and said, “We have this weekly divisional police meeting every week, and I’m sure you’re all tired of the pleasantries. So, I’ll keep things short and sweet, and not waste your time with your daily work.”
The Inspectors sat straight in their chairs. If Arthur didn’t want to go on and on, they were happy to finish it quickly.
Arthur looked at them and read from his materials. “Today’s main purpose is to read out a few documents. First, it’s about promoting a few officers who have excelled in the Hyde Park riots and in recent months.
First, a written application was submitted by Arthur Hastings, Divisional Superintendent of the Greenwich and Tower Hamlets Districts of the Metropolitan Police, and approved by the Metropolitan Police Senior Management Police Meeting. The Home Office officially approved the promotion of Tony Eckhart, Tom Flanders, and Charles Field, three Police Constables, to the rank of Detective Sergeant.
Until a Sergeant position becomes available in the districts under the Metropolitan Police, the three new Sergeants will be temporarily assigned to the London Area Temporary Surveying and Statistical Survey Bureau to assist the Metropolitan Police in completing the street mapping of London’s East End.
Second, to continue to improve the cultural quality of officers, especially to address the lack of officers with the ability to examine public prosecutions in the district, and to respond to Home Secretary Sir Peel’s call for a younger police force, this district plans to go to the University of London next week to find suitable graduates to join the police force.
When you get back, compile a list of vacancies for civilian staff in your respective districts and report it to me. You all know about our benefits. Although the University of London hasn’t been granted a Royal Charter, it’s still a university after all. They can occasionally patrol the streets, but if they do it regularly, I don’t think they’ll last a few months.
After all, there aren’t many fools like me in this world. Even I almost joined the Royal Navy back then. Don’t even mention those who are smarter than me.”
The Inspectors couldn’t help but stifle their laughter. “Inspector Hastings, you shouldn’t belittle yourself. Not many people can reach your position at such a young age.”
“Really?” Arthur held the materials in his hand and teased, “Don’t you have one right in front of you?”
Another Inspector stood up and questioned, “Inspector Hastings, I think it will be difficult to recruit graduates from the University of London. You mentioned earlier, our benefits…”
Another Inspector crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “That’s right. We can barely recruit anyone from Oxford or Cambridge, let alone the University of London.”
Arthur smiled and looked at him. “Well said. I’ve also considered the issue you raised. Since we have some extra funds this year, let’s use some of it as a prosecution allowance. Every day they appear in court, their weekly wages will be supplemented by an extra shilling. Anyone who can straighten out their speech in the Magistrates’ Court can get this money, which is fair. This way, those who were previously reluctant to go to court to face the magistrate and the jury might also consider it.”
The Inspectors nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea.”
Arthur turned to the next page of the document in his hand, suddenly pressing his forehead as if he had a headache. “The last thing, of course, is about maintaining order at the venue for the new parliamentary election. You all know that whenever a new king ascends the throne, Parliament will be re-elected. But this election is different from the previous ones. You all know how lively London has been lately. Absolutely nothing can happen at this critical juncture, otherwise, when the new Cabinet comes in, we’ll definitely be in trouble…”
(End of Chapter)