## Chapter 232: Parliamentary Immunity (4K)
**London, Westminster, 4 Whitehall Street, Metropolitan Police Headquarters.**
Arthur’s office had undergone a significant transformation since half a year ago. The most noticeable change was the addition of several nameplates outside his office, signifying his growing role and authority.
Besides the imposing “Metropolitan Police Criminal Investigations Department,” there was another seemingly insignificant sign: “Metropolitan Police External Liaison Office.”
Of course, this “External Liaison Office” was merely a public facade. Within the Home Office system, most people referred to it as the “London Police Intelligence Bureau.”
After this year’s public sector budget bill passed the parliamentary vote, Arthur, who had recently earned accolades for his contributions to the London Conference on behalf of Great Britain, received a generous grant from the Home Office.
Although the funds at his disposal were still far less than the ever-growing Scotland Yard, for an independent, secondary organization that initially started with only five members, securing a £10,000 grant from the Home Office was more than satisfactory.
What did this £10,000 grant actually mean?
According to the “London Police Intelligence Bureau Management Regulations” drafted by Arthur and approved by the Home Office, the Bureau’s intelligence personnel were temporarily divided into two categories: official and temporary.
Among the official employees, they were further categorized into three levels, from level one to level three, receiving intelligence allowances of £100, £80, and £50 annually, respectively.
Therefore, even if all the current personnel were considered level one intelligence officers, the annual expenditure would only be a paltry £500.
The question of how to spend the remaining £9,500 was a real headache for Arthur.
Based on his historical knowledge, expanding the staff was undoubtedly the best and most practical solution. Throughout history, both domestically and internationally, the more subordinates you had, the greater your department’s power.
However, as an organization with a sensitive working function, the Intelligence Bureau couldn’t simply recruit people haphazardly.
Otherwise, if they ended up with some unreliable individuals who caused trouble, the newly established London Police Intelligence Bureau would be unable to withstand the scrutiny of the Cabinet and Parliament.
Therefore, for the sake of prudence and to quickly spend the money, Arthur could only temporarily assign his old friends to the Intelligence Bureau.
Darwin and Eld, who were far away in South America, had unknowingly signed work contracts with him at a small inn in Plymouth Harbor before their departure.
Whitsone, the newly rich nouveau riche, was also pressured by him to sign a contract and sell himself, becoming the London Police Intelligence Bureau’s scientific advisor. Of course, officially, this identity was still under Scotland Yard.
Even Alexandre Dumas, the thick-browed, French curly-haired fatty, had now betrayed republicanism and joined the British side.
As for Fiona Ivan, who had just been promoted to Deputy Maid of Honor at the Russian Embassy, Arthur generously settled all the overdue payments to her. However, due to her excessive cunning, Arthur felt that her official identity might require further consideration.
After all, compared to Fiona, who had already formed her own set of beliefs, Arthur thought that freshly graduated college students might have clearer eyes.
Moreover, recruiting from universities had an obvious advantage. Perhaps because families who could afford to send their children to university in this era were generally well-off, these students were even willing to work for free.
This phenomenon wasn’t limited to college students. It was particularly evident among middle-class individuals with ample free time, such as poets, painters, and writers.
Perhaps influenced by the increasing sales of “The Englishman” magazine, these middle-class readers of the fashion novels written by Arthur Sigma, whose pen name was Arthur Sigma, had developed a strong interest in the emerging profession of detective.
While the reputation of Scotland Yard officers was still poor, the mention of police detectives would command their respect.
If you told them that you were recruiting police informants, they would most likely be unhappy. Not only unhappy, but they would also criticize Scotland Yard for implementing police rule and authoritarianism.
However, if you told them that London’s morals were declining, crime rates were skyrocketing, and you were currently short-staffed and needed the active participation of good citizens to serve as detective assistants, these well-educated gentlemen and ladies would gladly lend a helping hand.
Although the London Police Intelligence Bureau’s contacts were growing slowly, Arthur’s Metropolitan Police Criminal Investigations Department had expanded rapidly within the past six months.
The Criminal Investigations Department now boasted twenty-five professional detectives dedicated to investigating various serious crimes.
Perhaps understanding that Arthur’s rise within Scotland Yard was unstoppable, Rowan, the Chief Inspector, chose to take a three-five intermittent break, two-four-six continuous search for someone to take over, and a Sunday rest approach.
After Rowan’s elusive presence, the Criminal Investigations Department finally began to receive continuous assistance requests from various police districts.
As for why they received so many cases, it wasn’t because the police districts were incompetent, but because times were changing too fast.
Nowadays, murder cases weren’t as straightforward as they were in the Middle Ages. The use of chemical substances in crimes was gradually spreading in dark corners unseen by most citizens.
For the frontline patrol officers who lacked the relevant knowledge, it was simply too much to ask them to solve such cases.
Basking in the morning sunshine, Arthur, with his slicked-back hair damp with a thin layer of moisture, leaned back in his office chair, holding a copy of the newly published “The Times.” He sipped his tea, nibbled on biscuits, and constantly extracted useful information from the news.
For him, there was nothing more enjoyable than lounging in his office, relaxing after just apprehending a suspect.
Today’s news headlines seemed explosive, but to Arthur, they felt ordinary.
“Prime Minister Charles Grey, Earl Grey’s Proposed Parliamentary Reform Bill Rejected by the House of Commons Vote.”
“Whigs, After Winning General Election Victory, Some Party Members Quickly Shift Right.”
“Whig MP General Thomas Cochrane: This turn of the rudder is faster than our Royal Navy ships.”
“Lord Russell: There are deceivers within the party! I strongly oppose anyone engaging in political speculation within the Whig Party! We came to power to reform corruption, yet some see it as an opportunity for advancement.”
“Viscount Palmerston: It’s normal for there to be different voices within a party. We need to consider the voices of all party members. However, I firmly believe that under the leadership of Prime Minister Earl Grey, we will resolve this issue.”
“Earl Grey Convenes Emergency Party Meeting, Urging All Whigs to Strengthen Cohesion and Focus on Reform Goals.”
“Tory Party Leader Sir Robert Peel and Former Prime Minister Duke of Wellington Decline to Comment on the Stalemate of the Reform Bill.”
“Viscount Palmerston: Peel is nervous. The Tories are the biggest obstacle to the passage of the Reform Bill.”
“Sir Peel Strikes Back: As I have seen with my own eyes, Viscount Palmerston walked towards the left door during the reform vote. As we all know, that door represents opposition.”
“Viscount Palmerston Issues a Formal Statement: Nonsense. I was just getting old and lost my way.”
The Red Devil stood behind Arthur, glancing at the newspaper headlines, laughing so hard he couldn’t contain himself. “These people are so amusing. Slandering, playing tricks, and being sarcastic to each other. It’s been thousands of years, and they’re still doing the same thing?”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
Arthur shrugged. “Even after thousands of years, I guarantee you’ll still see the same scene. In that sense, the people in Parliament aren’t much better than Eld. But thanks to parliamentary politics, if it weren’t for it, we wouldn’t know how ridiculous these people are. They could practically become comedians in the theater.”
“Oh, ho ho…” The Red Devil chuckled. “Yet, a group of people like that can decide the fate of Belgium with a few words. Look at the newspaper in your hand. Your British old son-in-law, Prince Leopold, seems to have been officially accepted as King of Belgium.”
“Let the Belgians be happy. Regardless of their happiness, they have to accept this reality. Hopefully, Prince Leopold will be kind to them.”
Arthur finished speaking and picked up another document beside him.
The Red Devil merely glanced at it and smirked. “Ah, Arthur, you’re really out of luck. After becoming a dog for the Cabinet, you always encounter these things. What are you going to do this time? Your friends are planning to rebel again.”
Arthur looked at the document and couldn’t help but press his hand against his forehead, feeling a tightness in his chest.
It was a report document sent to him by the Oxford contact. Aside from the longwinded details, the core theme was only one: Oxford’s clergy seemed to be planning a big news story.
For Arthur, Oxford’s clergy weren’t exactly a favorite group, but he owed a favor to John Newman, one of the leaders of the clergy.
Arthur pondered for a long time, but ultimately put down the document in front of him, placing it among the less important ones.
The Red Devil raised an eyebrow. “What? You’re going to let them off so easily? I didn’t realize you were so sentimental.”
Arthur merely glanced at Agareus. “Agareus, are you really clueless or just pretending? This has nothing to do with sentimentality. It’s about considering things from the Whig Party’s perspective. Right now, they can’t afford to be enemies with the clergy. I don’t know what’s going on in Earl Grey’s mind, but I know that if he doesn’t push for parliamentary reform, he won’t be able to stay in that position for a day. Those who support parliamentary reform are already a minority in Parliament. If I arrest the clergy who switched to the Whigs because of the Catholic Emancipation Act, what do you think will happen to me?”
The Red Devil merely raised an eyebrow, licking his red lips and chuckling. “Oh, my dear Arthur, you’re quite savvy. If that’s the case, why did you go after Bernie Harrison this morning?”
“Bernie Harrison?” Arthur replied. “He’s not a clergyman. He’s a murderer. There’s a legally issued arrest warrant. What’s wrong with me arresting him?”
“Heh…” Agareus rubbed his hands and chuckled. “I hope so, Arthur. I wish you good luck.”
Hearing this, Arthur suddenly felt that something was amiss.
He furrowed his brows slightly. Before he could figure out the reason, a rapid knocking sound came from outside the door.
Tom rushed into the office, carrying a document. He was sweating profusely as he said, “Arthur, something terrible has happened!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Take a look at this.”
Tom handed the document to Arthur.
Arthur merely glanced at it, and his face immediately turned gloomy.
The document wasn’t heavy, but the power hidden within a few short paragraphs forced Arthur to take it seriously.
Tom lamented, “The police district people are useless. Why didn’t they even do a basic background check on the suspect? And the magistrate’s court is absurd. They issued an arrest warrant for a member of Parliament without proper scrutiny. It’s currently the parliamentary session, and the House of Commons demands that we release Mr. Bernie Harrison immediately. Do you think we should let him go or not?”
Arthur looked at the document in front of him and felt overwhelmed.
According to the law, during a parliamentary session, members of Parliament enjoy freedom of speech and immunity from arrest. Even if a member of Parliament is involved in treason, they must be arrested only after notifying the Speaker and receiving approval.
However, Arthur had arrested a member of Parliament without notifying Parliament, which was tantamount to a direct provocation in the eyes of Parliament, completely disregarding their authority.
Arthur thought about the cause and effect of this matter and suddenly had a possibility in mind.
“Rowan, you son of a bitch, you dare to use this to screw with me?”
As soon as he finished speaking, another knock came from outside the door.
A young police officer timidly stuck his head in. He swallowed and forced a stiff smile. “Uh… Inspector Hastings… Chief Inspector Rowan wants to see you.”
Tom hurriedly asked, “Did the Chief Inspector say what it was about?”
“Uh…” The young police officer laughed even more awkwardly than crying. “Tom, don’t make it difficult for me. How dare I ask him about such things? But I guess… probably… it’s about this morning’s incident?”
(End of Chapter)