SGB Chapter 243

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## Chapter 243: The Listening Network (5K4)

If you were to ask Londoners to name the areas that represent the residences of London’s elite and prominent merchants, Marylebone and Mayfair would undoubtedly be at the top of the list. And where Marylebone district borders Mayfair, sits the most dazzling architectural star of the Marylebone district.

Right next to the bustling commercial street of Oxford Street and the royal gardens of Regent’s Park, lies a newly developed residential area – Regent’s Crescent.

Sir John Nash, the royal architect, had designed numerous renowned architectural projects throughout his life, such as the renovation of Buckingham Palace, the landscape design of Regent’s Park and Marylebone Park, as well as the construction of Trafalgar Square, St. James’s Park and the Haymarket Theatre.

However, this didn’t hinder Regent’s Crescent from becoming his most outstanding work of all.

Since the completion of Regent’s Crescent in 1820, royal members, dignitaries, wealthy merchants, and socialites alike have been drawn to this place. Those social butterflies, aiming to establish connections with them, consider it the pinnacle of social gatherings.

The completion of Regent’s Crescent naturally spurred a rapid rise in nearby property prices. Numerous luxury stores and large commercial areas sprang up around it.

Arthur had once had the opportunity to secure a small suite here. Back then, he only had a vague notion of the house prices. After further investigation, he felt quite fortunate for not taking it from Lionel Rothschild. Otherwise, this favor would have been too heavy to repay.

But on second thought, not getting it felt somewhat regrettable. After all, apart from Buckingham Palace, there should be no other place like Regent’s Crescent, where one could wake up in the morning and see so many prominent figures who shook Europe.

However, fortunately, one of Arthur’s friends was about to move into a new home, and it was here.

The London morning, the fog hadn’t dispersed yet. In a thin layer of mist, the wheels slowly stopped in front of Regent’s Crescent.

A black riding boot stepped onto the hard grey brick road. Smoke rings puffed out from under a wide-brimmed hat. Arthur looked up at the ivory-white building complex, resembling a moon with its winding beauty. Behind him was Regent’s Park, a masterpiece of the former King George IV.

With just this simple action, his figure was spotted by the guards stationed at every entrance of the Crescent.

The guard marched towards him, first sizing up his attire, and then asked, “Sir, who are you looking for?”

Arthur simply replied, “Mr. Charles Wheatstone. I have an appointment with him.”

The guard realized, “Then you must be Mr. Hastings, right? Mr. Wheatstone greeted us last night. You can go straight up after you arrive, 2-1B. I’ll lead you there.”

Arthur nodded slightly. Under the guard’s guidance, Arthur quickly arrived at the door with a black iron gold-trimmed nameplate.

The guard gently rang the bell. With a few dings, the door was opened soon after. The face appearing behind the door was Mr. Wheatstone, with heavy dark circles under his eyes.

He wore a nightcap, yawned, and stretched, “Arthur, so early?”

Arthur glanced at his appearance and simply asked, “Just woke up?”

Wheatstone let him into the house, poured himself a cup of coffee, and nestled into the sofa by the fireplace in the living room. “Just moved in, I’m a bit too excited. I kept tossing and turning in bed, couldn’t fall asleep.”

Arthur surveyed the two-story, six-bedroom room, placing the gift he carried on the coffee table. “Looks good. This shouldn’t be cheap.”

Wheatstone contentedly sank into the sofa, squinting his eyes, feeling dizzy as if he were walking on clouds. “It’s not cheap indeed, four thousand pounds. If it were in Greenwich, I could buy a whole street with that money.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “No wonder you refused to accept the perfume yesterday, insisting on cash. It’s because of this house. Mr. Attwell was right, you can appease women with sweet talk, one bottle of perfume can do the trick. But for men, it’s mostly useless.”

Wheatstone sipped his coffee and asked, “Who’s Mr. Attwell?”

Arthur took off his hat and hung it on the hat rack. “A painter, also a professor at the Royal Academy of Arts. If you’re interested in getting your portrait painted, I have his business card here. But let me remind you, he doesn’t come cheap.”

Wheatstone thought for a moment and finally said, “Then I’ll wait until later. This house has almost drained my money from selling phonographs. I’m also planning to open a branch on Regent Street. The remaining money cannot be spent recklessly. But speaking of which, what brings you here so early today? You can’t be here solely to deliver a gift, can you?”

Wheatstone paused for a moment, then asked, “By the way, that perfume you got yesterday, Remy, is it really that expensive?”

Arthur picked up his coffee cup, “That depends on how you define it. If it’s two hundred pounds a bottle, it’s definitely not worth it. But for those high-society ladies, I believe some would be willing to spend a few pounds or even ten pounds to make an appointment for custom-made perfume. You haven’t met Mr. Remy, so you wouldn’t know he’s quite experienced in handling wealthy ladies. Hunger marketing, personalized customization. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed that someone had already mastered this in the 19th century.”

Wheatstone savored the words, “Then… maybe I should invest in him before he gets too popular. Is Mr. Remy interested in opening a shop on Regent Street? When I secure a storefront there, I might consider setting aside half of the space for him to sell perfume.”

Arthur just smiled. He threw the business card in his pocket onto Wheatstone’s face. “You can talk to him yourself. I think Mr. Remy won’t want to see me again anytime soon. He seems to dislike the police. But I understand, it’s a French trait.”

Wheatstone shook his finger, “That’s different, Arthur. He dislikes the police because he thought you were trying to extort him. But if you can help him make money, his attitude will quickly change. Take me as an example, I hate dealing with people, but we’re getting along pretty well now. Because I made good money selling records and phonographs thanks to you, and I even got this great house. So those things are in the past.”

Arthur pulled out a pen and paper from his jacket pocket and made a note. “Charles, it seems your social phobia is getting better. So, are you interested in giving a speech at the Royal Society next month? I’ve been delaying Mr. Faraday, and by the way, I have some inside information. Because of the invention of the phonograph, the Royal Society seems to be planning to set up an acoustics lab and appoint you as the head of the department. Are you interested?”

Wheatstone froze at these words, “Speech, no way. And set up a lab? What are they thinking? I’m fine doing my own thing at home, I’m not interested in a lab.”

Arthur asked, “Even if there’s special funding and a job salary, you won’t go?”

Wheatstone shook his head, “Arthur, you work at Scotland Yard, so you have no idea how low the Royal Society’s pay is. Didn’t you see Mr. Faraday’s tailcoat for speeches, he’s been wearing it for years, washing it again and again, too reluctant to buy a new one. My current life is much more comfortable than being at the Royal Society. Make me the lab director? I’d rather go back to running my musical instrument store.”

Hearing this, Arthur suddenly pondered, “Then tell me, if I persuade Mr. Faraday to come out and work, is there any chance of success?”

Wheatstone took it as a joke, “Come out and work? Mr. Faraday would probably be reluctant. He doesn’t care much about money, he just wants to do his own experiments quietly. Companies tried to recruit him before, but he rejected them all. To be honest, even though Mr. Faraday is highly respected, his status is still underestimated.

People say Sir Isaac Newton is the closest to God, as his tombstone in Westminster Abbey reads: Nature and natural laws lay hidden in darkness. God said: Let Newton be! And all was light.

But in my opinion, Mr. Faraday is the closest to Sir Isaac Newton. The mysteries of electricity and magnetism were also shrouded in ignorance, in darkness. Mr. Faraday showed us the way.

However, such an outstanding person is impoverished because he’s too stubborn. If Mr. Faraday had half the ambition of Sir Isaac Newton, he would have been rich and famous by now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Ambition? Are you referring to Sir Isaac Newton using calculus to calculate stocks and losing ten years’ worth of salary in the South Sea Bubble case?”

Wheatstone retorted, “Everyone makes mistakes, even Sir Isaac Newton. Besides, didn’t he admit his mistakes? He said, ‘I can predict the motion of planets, but I cannot predict the madness of crowds.’ Moreover, Sir Isaac Newton had the King’s unlimited tax exemption, losing some money doesn’t mean much to him. If Mr. Faraday could learn a trick or two from Sir Isaac Newton, his life would definitely be much better.”

Arthur heard this, but just shook his head, “I think it’s a good thing that Mr. Faraday is not like Newton, Charles. You’re taking it for granted. I went to a shop on Regent Street that sells Sir Isaac Newton’s merchandise recently, so I know a few things.”

Wheatstone was curious, “Like what?”

Arthur savored the slightly bitter coffee in his cup and said, “For example, Sir Isaac Newton’s famous quote: ‘If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.’ Many people think this is a humble remark from Sir Isaac Newton, but it actually has nothing to do with humility. He was just sarcastically targeting his rival, Mr. Hooke.

However, since Sir Isaac Newton ordered the burning of all portraits of Mr. Hooke after his death, most people don’t know much about Mr. Hooke. I’ll just emphasize one point, Mr. Hooke was a notorious dwarf. Now you understand what Sir Isaac Newton meant by that quote?”

Wheatstone couldn’t help but laugh, “Is that true? I didn’t know he did that.”

Arthur said, “So now you understand how fortunate the Royal Society is to have Mr. Faraday as their leader? If Mr. Faraday were replaced by Sir Isaac Newton, those of us who dare to compete with him in the same research field would sooner or later be tied up and thrown into the Thames.”

“Haha, that’s true.”

Seeing Wheatstone laughing so happily, Arthur’s smile suddenly brightened.

Wheatstone was unnerved by his gaze, trembling, he asked, “Wh… what’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

Arthur leaned back on the sofa, “Nothing, I just suddenly thought of something. It’s true that Sir Isaac Newton is a great scientist, but his fame has reached such a level that it even surpasses his actual achievements. His public image is also far superior to Mr. Faraday, who is equally great. Charles, have you ever thought about the reason behind this?”

“Arthur, you?” Wheatstone’s brows furrowed slightly, he thought of something.

Arthur pointed at the luxurious decorations all over the room and the guards patrolling outside all day, and said,

“Charles, look at you. Just a phonograph, and you’ve already become one of the wealthiest scientists in all of Britain, even all of Europe. Worldly success, while still worth rejoicing for you, I know that people like you, who are devoted to science, must have higher aspirations deep down.

This might be a simple but memorable epitaph, or a burial in Westminster Abbey. Or maybe a simple scientific theorem, like the Newton-Leibniz formula. But don’t you find it strange? Even though the Newton-Leibniz formula is written with Leibniz’s symbols, why is Newton placed before Leibniz?”

Wheatstone swallowed hard, he understood what Arthur was saying, “Are you saying, suggest I accept the Royal Society’s invitation?”

“Whether you accept or not is entirely up to you.” Arthur smiled and replied, “I’m just offering you a reasonable idea and suggestion as a friend.”

“But…” Wheatstone thought for a long time, struggling to pull out a paper from under the coffee table, “Arthur, I’ve already finished writing this paper on the principle of residual magnetism. The recording machine was made by me, but this principle paper, which serves as the foundation for recording, you really don’t intend to co-sign with me? After all, it was actually you who discovered this. I’m already grateful for the phonograph and records, I’ve made money, but in terms of scientific honor, are you going to give it up too?”

Arthur took a sip of coffee and said, “Charles, as you said, I’m a Scotland Yard policeman. My work is already busy enough, I really don’t have time to spare for the Royal Society’s affairs.”

“Arthur, you…”

“Of course, I’m not asking for nothing in return for giving up all this.” Arthur tapped the coffee table, “Charles, do you know who lives next door to you?”

“Who?”

Arthur smiled and took a document from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table, “Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s brother, the former King of Spain. Your house is so big, the ventilation ducts must be very spacious, right?”

Wheatstone was alarmed, “Arthur, what are you planning to do?”

Arthur laughed, “I want you to set up the recording machine in the ventilation duct.”

“This… I can do it, but under what name?”

Arthur smiled, “Of course, it’s under the name of national security. Do you think the French are trustworthy? Alexander is always under my nose, but for this restless member of the Bonaparte family, I can only rely on you.”

“Really?” Wheatstone looked a little skeptical.

Arthur leaned back on the sofa, “Believe it or not, but I have to emphasize one thing, Charles. If you want something, you have to accept losing something. To be remembered in history, to have formulas and theorems, to be president of the Royal Society, to be Isaac Newton, it’s not that easy. You need to understand one thing – great people are almost always bad people. Of course, you can choose to gamble that you’re an exception.”

Having said that, Arthur pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it, “See you later, Charles. I have to go to work. You have half a day to think about it. According to Fiona’s information, Joseph Bonaparte has a dinner party at his mansion tonight. I’m interested in some of his guests. Hopefully, I can hear the recording I want in my Scotland Yard office tomorrow morning.

If you don’t hear it, it’s fine. You can come and have a drink with me, to talk about friendship. I still have half a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape that the Duke of Wellington gave me. Before I leave, we can finish off the good wine we have.”

After saying this, Arthur got up and left Wheatstone’s mansion.

Stepping onto the stone road in front of Regent’s Crescent, the Red Devil wandered beside Arthur.

Agareus smiled, “Arthur, are you so sure he’ll bring the recording tomorrow?”

Arthur heard this, but just exhaled a smoke ring, “Of course I’m not sure.”

“Then what are you doing?” The Red Devil rubbed his hands and chuckled, “Fifty-fifty probability, gambler’s psychology?”

Arthur glanced at him, “Agareus, I’m not like you, I’m not a devil. I can’t see through people’s hearts, so I need some methods to determine how to get along with someone and what methods to use. Especially for the things I’m doing now that can’t be done openly, I have to be careful. Also, I have to remind you, you’re the one who let me stay at Scotland Yard. I’ve reached this position, many things are beyond my control. However, maybe this is what you want to see?”

The Red Devil heard this, but just smiled, “Oh! My dear Arthur, don’t always think of me so badly. These are all your own choices. Why are you in this society and why do you have to be the leader? But on the bright side, don’t you feel happy now?

There are a bunch of people in London now who rely on you to survive. The fat man who escaped the warrant, Tom and Tony, those two kids, the ‘Brit’ magazine, Fiona and his little group, or this newly rich guy we just met. Arthur, you can’t fall, if you fall, they’ll all be finished soon.”

Arthur didn’t answer. He simply put his hat back on, his figure gradually disappearing into the London morning mist.

The Red Devil watched his figure disappear, the malice on his face intensified, “You think they’ll thank you? Arthur, you’re too naive. They’ll only think everything is what they deserve. If things are good, it’s because of themselves. If things are bad, it’s all because of others. This is human nature. Kid, you’re doing this, you’ll end up dead. Hopefully, when that time comes, your temper will still be as tough as it is now. Devil’s deals are never late, even though I admire you.”

(End of Chapter)

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