## Chapter 205: LPS’s New Recruit (5K)
The evening had descended upon the Lancaster Gate, 36, in the Bayswater district. It was time for dinner, but the atmosphere in the living room was different from usual.
Alexandre Dumas, Charles Darwin, their neighbor Benjamin Disraeli, and even Mr. Eldred Carter were all hunched over their desks, furiously scribbling away. They were in the final stages of filling the first issue of their new magazine.
A deafening noise, like the sound of a drill during construction, shattered the peaceful silence, only punctuated by the rustling of paper.
Eldred’s brow furrowed with increasing annoyance. He couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his fist on the table and roared upwards, “Arthur! If you plan to open a cotton-spinning factory, go to Lancashire! You don’t have to torture us here in London!”
The sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs. Arthur strolled down, holding the violin that his friend, Mr. Whiston, had gifted him.
“I thought music was universal,” Arthur said, sounding rather helpless. “But it seems there’s a gap between pianists and violinists.”
Eldred glared and strode forward, snatching the violin from Arthur’s hands. “Why don’t you write a collection of your Scotland Yard detective stories? We’re desperately short of content. As a shareholder, you should be stepping up during these tough times.”
Arthur shrugged. “Detective stories? What should I call it? Main title ‘Hastings’ Case Files’? Subtitle ‘The Monkey’s Study’? Or ‘The Hounds from Nottingham’? I think these titles and themes might be plagiarism.”
“Plagiarism?” Eldred retorted. “I haven’t seen a single novel with a detective as the protagonist. Who are you plagiarizing? Besides, writing novels is definitely more profitable than being a cop at Scotland Yard. If our magazine takes off, we’ll be making thousands a year. And when the novel is finished, you can print it separately, and make a fortune from that too.”
Arthur saw the glimmer of gold in Eldred’s eyes. He pressed his hands down, signaling him to calm down. “By the way, what are you planning to write for the magazine?”
Eldred, seeing Arthur’s interest in his magnum opus, finally couldn’t contain his long-suppressed literary heart. He straightened his collar and spoke with a serious air.
“Look, Benjamin is planning to serialize ‘The Young Duke’ in the magazine. Alexander will be doing ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’. Charles, the journalist, is serializing ‘The Pickwick Papers’. Our Charles, the naturalist, is writing a science article, ‘The Monkey’s Story’. Tennyson from Cambridge is preparing ‘Lyric Poems’.
We have fashion, natural history, and lyricism. The only thing missing is a bit of historical weight. So, I’m planning to adapt some of our English legends into an easy-to-understand and engaging novel. Let me give you a hint, the character I’m writing about comes from my hometown of Nottingham.”
Arthur, hearing this, immediately guessed what he was going to write. “You mean Robin Hood?”
Eldred exclaimed, “Arthur, you’re a graduate of London University’s history department! Our London University students are always top-notch.”
Arthur seemed unmoved by Eldred’s praise. “I think the quality of our London University students can be a little higher than that.”
He paused, then furrowed his brow and pinched his chin. “But, I vaguely remember ‘Robin Hood’ being Alexander’s work?”
Dumas, hearing this, simply leaned back in his chair. “You’re right, Eldred. This bastard writes ten words, nine of them he has to ask me about. That novel is practically the same as mine.”
Eldred retorted angrily, “What do you mean, nine out of ten words you ask me about? Who suggested using Robin Hood as a prototype for the story? Who collected the relevant materials? Who has the deciding power over the direction of the story? I just asked you two questions. You’re so stingy, you’d think you had Dutch blood. If you keep this up, I’m not taking you out next time!”
As the saying goes, he who takes the money speaks softly. Seeing Eldred’s agitated expression, Dumas could only sneer and shut his mouth.
Eldred, seeing his silence, was finally satisfied.
He turned to Arthur and said, “But you really aren’t considering writing a detective novel? I even asked my sister to ask her friends, those young ladies seem very curious about how Scotland Yard detectives solve cases. If you could churn out something like that, you’d definitely push the magazine’s sales up another notch.”
Seeing Eldred’s eagerness to encourage him to write, Arthur didn’t directly refuse.
He simply patted the violin that Eldred had snatched away. “Writing is possible, but I need to get the concert sorted out first.”
“Concert?” Eldred was stunned for a moment, then slapped his forehead. “Damn it, Arthur, I almost forgot about that. You agreed to be the pianist for the London Philharmonic Society? Oh, damn it, Arthur, sometimes I have to envy you. Except for our personal cultivation, which is on par, I’m practically left behind in every other aspect, especially in terms of money-making ability. We’re really like heaven and earth.”
Arthur said, “It’s not entirely for the money, you know. Have you forgotten about Mrs. Livin and Mrs. Cowper sending people to book concert tickets? They are both ladies of high standing. It would be un-gentlemanly to keep them waiting, and it would also violate basic social etiquette. So, I’m planning to cash in on the gramophone and concert tickets for them during this time.”
“Mrs. Livin?” Eldred couldn’t help but recall the painful memories of that night. “Damn it, Arthur, you’re always in the middle of the good stuff. Mrs. Livin! That’s Mrs. Livin!”
Hearing Eldred’s repeated emphasis, Arthur immediately sensed a whiff of information. This kid, Eldred, might know something.
He pretended to be ignorant and asked, “What’s wrong with Mrs. Livin? She’s just the wife of the Russian ambassador, Count Livin, one of the female sponsors of the Almack Club. Mrs. Cowper isn’t much different. You’ve even peed on Mrs. Cowper, so stop thinking about Mrs. Livin.”
Eldred sighed, “Arthur, it’s not the same. Mrs. Livin’s gossip is far more abundant than Mrs. Cowper’s. There are rumors of countless political and business elites having affairs with Mrs. Livin. If you haven’t been linked to Mrs. Livin, it just means you’re not a big shot in Europe.”
Arthur asked, “So who would be considered a big shot in Europe?”
Eldred counted on his fingers, “Like the Austrian Chancellor Metternich, our new Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston, and of course, our former Prime Minister the Duke of Wellington…”
“The Duke of Wellington?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, muttering, “He couldn’t even find out anything while sleeping next to Mrs. Livin’s pillow, and the Duke still had the nerve to send me to snoop?”
Eldred asked, “Arthur, what are you talking about?”
Arthur dodged the question, “Nothing, I was just saying, is Sir Peel involved in this?”
“Sir Peel?” Eldred shook his head, “Sir Peel is quite upright in this regard. He and Lady Peel are very much in love, everyone sees them as a model couple.”
Arthur nodded slightly. “It’s really not easy. After all, someone like Viscount Melbourne, who managed to maintain a marriage with Lady Ponsonby for twenty years, has now set his sights elsewhere. It’s a real test to navigate the political circles without getting involved in affairs.”
Hearing Arthur mention Viscount Melbourne, Eldred couldn’t help but wink and ask, “By the way, have you figured out the relationship between Lady Norton and Viscount Melbourne? Is there something going on between them, something that’s not good to say in public…”
Arthur decided to satisfy his friend’s curiosity.
He said, “According to the information I have so far, Lady Norton and Mr. Norton, while not divorced, are de facto separated. Lady Norton often visits the Home Secretary’s residence, and they have recently attended Almack Club balls together. But I haven’t obtained any critical evidence of them breaking the zero-distance barrier. So, under current conditions, I’m inclined to believe they are innocent for now.”
“Innocent? That’s impossible!” Eldred grinned, nudging Arthur with his elbow. “Tell me, is it possible they’re doing that, you know, in the Home Secretary’s residence…”
Arthur firmly denied his friend’s unfounded suspicions. “Eldred, the Home Office isn’t the Royal Navy. We don’t just find a cabin and close the door to get things done. Viscount Melbourne’s office is full of people coming and going all day. I don’t think they can have a heart-to-heart about the origin of species in the gaps between the clerks coming and going.”
“Why not? Think about it…” Eldred was about to argue with Arthur, but before he could finish, there was a knock at the door.
Disraeli’s eyes lit up. The newly appointed editor of the magazine rushed to the door, a smile on his face. “Is it Alfred or Charles coming to deliver the manuscript?”
But when he opened the door, there were two unfamiliar faces standing outside. One was Sergeant Tom, wearing his police uniform and looking weary. The other was a sullen Scotland Yard boy, Alan Pinkerton.
Arthur, seeing them, exclaimed in surprise, “Tom, didn’t I tell you to send him back to his father in Glasgow? Why did you bring him back?”
Tom looked at Arthur and just sighed sadly. He patted Pinkerton’s head. “Unfortunately, I took him to the Glasgow Police Station, but the officers there told me that the boy’s father died last year. His mother remarried earlier this year, and I followed the officers’ directions to find his mother.
But the lady didn’t seem to want to see her son. She just told me politely that Alan was old enough to support himself by becoming an apprentice. And, before he came to London, he seems to have been an apprentice cooper at a distant relative’s place.
I was going to send him back to that cooper’s shop, but the boy told me that if I sent him back there, he’d run away again soon. He doesn’t mind coopering, but he doesn’t like being in the workshop. If he stays there, he won’t get any food if he doesn’t finish his tasks…
Well…Arthur, I…I don’t know how to tell you this…sigh…it’s all my fault, I’m useless. I know the department doesn’t employ child labor, but this kid insists he can, and he begs me to give him a chance. See…”
Pinkerton, seeing Tom’s embarrassment, felt a little guilty too.
All the way here, he had caused Tom a lot of trouble. But this officer, not only didn’t blame him, but also took care of his rebellious behavior.
He listened patiently to Pinkerton’s grievances and complaints.
He also tried his best to solve Pinkerton’s difficulties and thoughts.
And now, Tom had to, for his sake, go against his superiors and make an unreasonable request.
Pinkerton, though still a teenager, had experienced the world’s warmth and coldness.
He grabbed Tom’s hand and, with a burst of courage, looked up into Arthur’s dark eyes. “I…Mr. Hastings, I hope you can give me a chance. I haven’t been a policeman, but I’ve seen my dad do it. You may think I’m young, but I won’t hold you back. If I do well, you pay me, if I don’t, even if you send me straight to the workhouse, I won’t have any complaints.”
Arthur leaned against the door, looked down at the boy who wasn’t even as tall as his chest, and asked in an unwavering voice, “Did Tom teach you to say that?”
Pinkerton’s face showed a flicker of panic. He quickly waved his hands. “No, sir, please don’t misunderstand, I came up with these words myself, they have nothing to do with Sergeant Tom.”
Arthur just smiled and patted his head. “It seems I had too high expectations for you. I thought famous detectives were born, like musicians. But now it seems detectives are cultivated. Alan, you have a long way to go before you become a good detective.”
Hearing this, Alan was stunned for a moment, then tears welled up in his eyes. “Mr. …Mr. Hastings, does that mean you want to reject me?”
Arthur slowly nodded. “I’m sorry, Alan, Scotland Yard doesn’t consider anyone under the age of eighteen, it’s an internal regulation, and I have no authority to make Scotland Yard change it for you. If you really admire your policeman father, you can come and apply when you turn eighteen.”
Tom, although already prepared for this outcome, couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when Arthur said it. He took off his hat and apologized to Arthur, “Sorry, Arthur, I’m putting you in a difficult position.”
He grabbed Alan and was about to leave, but no matter how hard he pulled, Alan, with his stubborn nature, refused to turn around, silently shedding tears.
With no choice, Tom could only pick Alan up and carry him on his shoulders. Tom patted his back and comforted him, “It’s okay, it’s getting late, let’s go home for dinner first. As for your job, I’ll think of another way. I remember your Uncle Tony has a carpenter relative in London, if all else fails, I’ll take you there tomorrow to ask.”
But just as he was about to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Then, a warm voice echoed behind him, “Tom, I just said Scotland Yard doesn’t take kids, but I didn’t say LPS doesn’t take child soldiers.”
Tom froze, and Pinkerton, who was sobbing on his shoulder, also raised his head, meeting Arthur’s smiling face.
After the shock, Tom’s face lit up with joy. “Arthur…”
But before he could finish his words of thanks, Arthur interrupted him. “But I’m warning you in advance, this kid is your recruit, so you’re responsible for managing his daily life and work training. If anything goes wrong in the future, you’re half to blame. If you have no objections, I can provide him with a work agreement now.”
As soon as Arthur finished speaking, Tom, without hesitation, agreed. He saluted Arthur excitedly, “Of course, sir!”
Seeing this, Arthur didn’t respond to Tom directly, but bent down and stared into Pinkerton’s eyes. “Kid, working for LPS isn’t as easy as you think. If I find out your work is substandard, I won’t send you to the workhouse, I’ll send you to the Royal Navy’s Begler.
You may not know this, but the pocket watch you stole last time belonged to a sailor on the Begler. So, you know, if you go there, you won’t have a good time. Now I’m giving you one last piece of advice, if you choose to go back to coopering now, you still have time. I’ll give you one minute to think about it, stay or go, you decide.”
Pinkerton stared intently at Arthur, his jaw clenched, his body trembling, his fists clenched, as if he was struggling to consider it seriously.
He looked back at Tom, who was sweating on his forehead and smiling, and finally, in a quiet moment, Pinkerton, imitating Tom and his father from memory, slowly raised his arm and saluted Arthur. “Yes, sir!”
Arthur, seeing him like this, just smiled. He reached out and grasped Pinkerton’s saluting hand, lifting his palm up. “That’s right, the police salute is the same as the army’s, palm facing outward, aiming at the temple. Palm down is the Royal Navy’s etiquette, the reason for facing down is that they work on ships, so their palms are usually not very clean.”
Pinkerton was confused, “Then the police’s hands are usually clean?”
Arthur shook his head and chuckled, “Of course not, the police’s hands are full of blood, that’s why we need to wear white gloves to cover up the things we’ve done, or are going to do. Alan, the LPS you’re joining does things like this. Are you ready?”
(End of Chapter)