## Chapter 244: Intelligence Bureau Welfare Housing (4K8)
**Rustling sounds…**
“Bernie, that case…”
“You did a fantastic job, George. Everyone is very pleased with the progress.”
“That fellow Peel must be in a panic right now, trying to deal with this. He should have known, if the party had given me more resources, I wouldn’t have lost the election in York to Brougham. What’s even more infuriating is that after I lost, he called me to the White Club and reprimanded me. Who does he think he is? Even the Duke of Wellington can’t treat me like a three-year-old!”
“Hahaha, George, don’t get angry. Now it’s Peel’s turn to sweat. If he doesn’t support me in Parliament, he might as well forget about being the party leader. But if he does support me, the blame will fall on Scotland Yard, which he created. George, you’re lucky. If you hadn’t become a Magistrate, how could you have easily manipulated Peel like this?”
“But my warrant was issued by me. Legally, won’t they investigate me for dereliction of duty?”
“What are you afraid of? Most of the judges are on our side. With Earl Eldon, they’ll turn a blind eye to the warrant. Even if the Earl doesn’t want to intervene, I don’t believe the Court of Appeal would go through the trouble of bringing this small matter to the King’s Bench and the Privy Council, and then to the King for a decision. That would be asking for trouble. Lord Brougham just became Lord Chancellor, and your warrant was signed by him. Wouldn’t that be slapping him in the face?”
“You have a point. But Bernie, you know, he’s not normal. He’s that crazy Henry Peter Brougham. That guy has a screw loose. He sued King George IV. I wouldn’t be surprised if he does anything.”
“If Brougham really dares to slap himself in the face, I’d actually respect him more. It would at least mean you didn’t lose the York election for nothing. But we should always consider things from a normal perspective. Low-probability events are not relevant. If we follow the normal procedure, even if Brougham brings this up, you’ll at most be docked a few months’ salary.
Peel, whether he supports me or not, will be questioned by the party. Besides, we can also take the opportunity to give the Whigs a hard time. Isn’t Earl Grey jumping up and down about the Reform Bill lately? Now that this has happened, we can conveniently accuse him of using government power to detain opposition MPs. George, this was originally just an unfortunate accident, but it’s now turning into so many positive outcomes. You’ve hit the jackpot.”
“Hopefully. Damn it, I didn’t want to do this!”
“It’s too late to say that now. Since it’s already done, you can only blame yourself for being careless. George, you’re lucky to have a friend like me, otherwise your Magistrate’s hat would have been taken off by now. By the way, aren’t you always dissatisfied with Viscount Melbourne? I heard you’ve been trying to get a transfer to that London District Prosecutor’s Office. He’s enjoying the benefits but doesn’t want to continue helping you?”
“You have to bring this up?”
“Just tell me. We’re friends. How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on?”
“Humph! You must have heard something. My wife, Caroline, that slut, has been very close to Melbourne these past few years. But she has the audacity to say to my face that there’s nothing going on between her and Melbourne. We’ve fought several times because of this, but later, seeing Melbourne rise, I thought this relationship might be beneficial to my development, so I turned a blind eye. After all, you know, in British politics, you can’t be too clean. I used to be too honest, so I never got promoted. As soon as I understood this, I immediately became a Magistrate.”
“Well… you did marry a good wife.”
“Good my ass! A Magistrate is all he wants to give me? Melbourne doesn’t take me seriously at all! After dealing with Peel, it’s his turn next! Scotland Yard is under the Home Office. He has to take responsibility when something like this happens in his subordinate department, right?”
“George, you’re amazing. You’re thoughtful, clever, and have the skills. It’s a real waste to just be a Magistrate. But I have some even more ruthless tricks. Are you interested?”
“Heh, Bernie, no need to flatter me. As long as Melbourne and Caroline, those adulterous bastards, suffer, just tell me what to do.”
“Actually, it’s nothing serious. I just think you should know where your wife keeps her private letters to Melbourne. Maybe you can pick out a few with explosive content. It would be even better if you could find a few with juicy content. ‘Home Secretary Seduces Married Woman’, ‘The Raging Ram Sits on the Home Secretary’s Desk’. I’ve already come up with headlines for Fleet Street. George, what do you think about that?”
**Ding-dong, the sound of glasses clinking.**
“Bernie, I knew I could trust you.”
“George, what are you saying? I’ve always believed in looking out for my brothers. After we finish this drink, I’ll go to Earl Eldon and ask if he can help cover up the warrant. You just wait here for good news. Oh, by the way, I need to remind you one last thing. Only you and I know the truth about this case. No one else can know.”
“Bernie, don’t you trust a true gentleman who graduated from Oxford? I’m a well-trained man.”
“Yes, indeed. Everyone says Oxford is the best in all of Britain, and Balliol College is the cream of the crop. Otherwise, how could it have nurtured a remarkable figure like you?”
“Hahaha, Bernie, no wonder you went from a simple perfume merchant to this. With your silver tongue, you can sell even garbage for the price of gold.”
**Rustling sounds…**
In the Scotland Yard office, a phonograph sits on a desk. Arthur lies on a chair, his legs propped up on the desk. His face is covered by a bowler hat, and his expression is hidden in the shadows.
Across from him sits a nervous Whitson, trembling and not daring to breathe.
Only now does Mr. Whitson start to regret.
My God! Why did I crave Sir Isaac Newton’s position? Wouldn’t it have been better to just be a plain Charles Whitson?
At least Charles Whitson would still have a big house in Regent’s Crescent and enough money from the phonograph industry to last a lifetime. But if he were to be Newton, without Newton’s methods of dealing with people, he might not even be able to land safely.
Just as Whitson was struggling with second thoughts, Arthur, who had been silent, suddenly raised his hand and pressed the stop button on the phonograph beside him.
“Good, very good. I thought there was some big background behind this, but it turned out to be two small shrimps behind it all. I used to think that usurping authority and going rogue were traditions of the East Asian island nations. Now it seems that our Western Britain is also into this game! Come to think of it, they developed earlier, and they’re all islands. A hundred years of pre-rehearsal doesn’t seem so strange.”
Seeing Arthur speak, Whitson quickly stood up and said, “Mr. Hastings, you have the things now. I have work to do, so I’ll take my leave.”
He was about to turn and leave, but before he reached the door, he heard the familiar “snap” sound behind him, like something hitting the table.
Whitson closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. He was too familiar with this step, and his body was almost developing antibodies.
Whitson didn’t turn around, but stepped back three steps and sat back down.
“I say, Arthur, that’s enough. Don’t always be so violent. You’re an honest police officer, you should be civilized.”
Arthur put one finger in the trigger guard, twirling the gun while saying, “Charles, what are you afraid of? There are no bullets in it.”
“No bullets? You should have said so!”
Whitson stood up to leave.
But before he could, in a flash, Arthur pulled open a drawer, loaded bullets and gunpowder in one swift motion, and there was a click as the safety catch was engaged.
Arthur pointed at the gun, still spinning in front of him, and said with a gentle smile, “As you can see, now there are.”
Whitson’s eyes twitched twice, but finally succumbed to Arthur’s power.
His eyes flickered with sadness: “Arthur, can’t we just be normal friends?”
“I want to be normal friends with you too, but Charles, you’re so special,” Arthur said. “You only want to listen to me when I take out my gun. The rest of the time, you’re thinking about how to escape from me.”
“Isn’t that because you’re scaring me?!”
Hearing this, Arthur just shook his finger: “No, no, Charles. You know, more or less, I’m doing intelligence work now. And based on my life experience and my exchange with François Vidocq, the authority on police intelligence in Paris, I’ve come to a conclusion that there are four ways to manage intelligence bureau personnel. I’ve summarized them as MICE, and currently, only C applies to you.”
“MICE? What does that mean?”
Arthur didn’t want to avoid this question for this man, who has already played a significant role and will play an even greater role in the future, as the Chief Scientific Advisor of the London Police Intelligence Bureau.
He said, “So-called MICE is actually an abbreviation of four words: M, Money, those who can be bought with money, women, or other benefits. Ideology, those who can be driven by some lofty ideals. C, Compromise, those who can be coerced. E, Ego, those who are self-centered, those who think they are better than others and want to seek thrills by doing difficult tasks.”
Having said that, Arthur couldn’t help but ask, “Charles, do you have any particularly lofty ideals?”
Whitson pondered for a moment and shook his head: “Not at the moment.”
Arthur asked again, “Are you a very self-centered person?”
Whitson thought about it again: “I just don’t like dealing with people, but it’s too harsh to say I’m self-centered.”
Arthur continued to ask, “Can you be bought with money or women?”
Whitson suddenly blushed: “Well… uh… maybe I could consider…”
But before he could finish, Arthur interrupted him: “No, Charles, I know you well. You can’t.”
Whitson scratched his head and twisted shyly: “Arthur, well… it’s really possible.”
Arthur said seriously: “You better think carefully before answering. This time, there are bullets in the gun on the table.”
“I…” Whitson took a deep breath: “Okay, I can’t.”
“See,” Arthur spread his hands: “Charles, you see, you’ve been coerced.”
Whitson glared: “If you play it this way, no one won’t be coerced.”
“That’s not true,” Arthur leaned back in his chair: “Do you remember Mr. Eldred Carter?”
“Of course, he’s a strange one!”
Arthur said: “For Eldred, even if I put a gun to his head, he’d still be bought by women. Incidentally, I’ve always thought he might be the best employee in the Bureau, maybe even a legend in British intelligence. Because his desires have always been simple. For intelligence officers who face many temptations, this quality of his is invaluable. Of course, all this is based on the premise that he doesn’t die at the hands of Amazonian cannibals.”
Hearing this, Whitson felt like Arthur was making fun of him.
But luckily, after this lighthearted banter, he wasn’t as nervous as he was when he received the recording.
After all, it’s just a matter of knowing the conspiracy of a member of Parliament and a Magistrate. How could it be scarier than being held at gunpoint by Chief Inspector Hastings?
Whitson said helplessly: “So, why did you keep me here?”
Arthur just smiled slightly: “Charles, actually, I’ve been wanting to apologize to you. I think I was too harsh on you before. You’re afraid of socializing, but I keep dragging you out of your safe haven into this colorful world. That’s really inhumane.”
After Arthur finished this sentence, perhaps because he was too shocked, Whitson was speechless for a long time.
After a long while, he stammered, “Ar… Arthur, you… you’ve had a change of heart?”
Arthur slowly nodded: “Yes, I think I want you to forgive my past mistakes. Charles, I’m sorry. But you also need to understand that the London Police Intelligence Bureau is a newly established organization, so there are definitely shortcomings in taking care of employees’ emotions.”
“No…” Whitson said with some emotion: “Arthur, you mean I misunderstood you before. Mr. Dickens kept telling me you were a good man, but I never believed him. I even cursed you in my heart as a jerk. It seems I was wrong.”
“Really?”
Arthur’s smile grew even brighter: “Charles, I’m honored to inform you that, in order to take care of your personal emotions, the Bureau has decided to grant you a small room, absolutely isolated from the world, absolutely undisturbed. You won’t see any personnel there except for the delivery of your meals. Isn’t that nice of me?
Of course, the Bureau is not rich enough to have many of these rooms. After all, you know, there are quite a few people in London who apply for this kind of single room, so I can only give you a week’s stay at most. Once the time is up, you’ll have to move out. If you want to stay again next time, you’ll have to apply to me in advance or find someone to fight on the street or something.”
“Huh?” Whitson furrowed his brow. He realized something was off: “You… what kind of house are you talking about?”
Arthur didn’t answer the question. He just tapped on the table. Tom and Tony, who had been waiting at the door, pushed it open and saluted: “Sir!”
Whitson was startled and quickly stood up: “You… what are you going to do? I just made a contribution to the Bureau. How can you treat me like this?”
“Charles, don’t get excited. The Bureau’s management has always been humane. Your room is custom-made, like Mr. Rémy’s perfume.”
Arthur raised his hand to signal him to calm down, but just as he had calmed Whitson down, he heard him speak again.
“Please take Mr. Whitson to the Bureau’s welfare housing. He will stay there until the Bernie Harrison case is over. By the way, the food standard can be set higher. The part exceeding the dining allowance will be deducted from my salary. After all, Mr. Whitson is going there through my personal connections, so I, as a leader, can’t waste the Bureau’s money, can I?”
**(End of Chapter)**