## Chapter 98: The Bright Star, The Son of Dawn
The night had fallen over Greenwich, a blanket of darkness settling over the bustling streets.
It was a Tuesday night, the sky studded with countless stars. Beneath this celestial canvas, Arthur stood on the rooftop of a small building, a nautical telescope clutched in his hand. He was focused on a house across the street, the residence of the newly appointed Chief Constable of Greenwich, Cledon Jones.
Through the lens, Arthur’s crimson-tinged eyes observed the shadows behind the drawn curtains. Chief Constable Jones seemed to be preparing his equipment – an officer’s knife and a flintlock pistol issued by the police.
Arthur also noticed the faint outlines of several necklaces and rings.
The telescope shifted its focus, revealing the alleyway next to Jones’s house where Tom was napping against the wall. On the second floor of the neighboring inn, Tony gave Arthur a thumbs-up, signaling that everything was in order. And on the street itself, Officer Dennis Lloyd, clad in his uniform, diligently carried out his nightly patrol.
Arthur lowered the telescope, muttering a word of praise, “Borrowing this from Elder was a good idea. The Royal Navy really does have some treasures I didn’t know about.”
Beside him, Agareus was also eagerly observing the entire street with the telescope. The Red Devil chuckled, his voice a low rumble, “Come, Arthur, let me show you something good. The night in Greenwich always has a certain charm to offer.”
Arthur took the telescope from the Red Devil’s hand, only to frown after a quick glance.
“Three men and one woman? They can play all they want, but they better not kill anyone. If this turns into a case, I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to Scotland Yard!”
*Dong! Dong! Dong!*
The midnight hour arrived, marked by the chimes of the church bells in the distance.
Arthur glanced at his watch, the hour hand pointing at twelve. The hunt had begun.
The curtains in Jones’s house were slightly drawn, revealing a pair of eyes scanning the street, watching as Officer Dennis Lloyd walked away.
Jones let out a sigh, his ears echoing with the promise Clemens had made him that day.
“When the Whigs come to power, you will replace Arthur Hastings as the Chief Constable of Greenwich.”
Jones clenched his fist, muttering to himself, “Life and death, fortune and misfortune, all hang in the balance.”
His wife sat by the bed, her eyes filled with worry, “Cledon, are you… are you alright?”
Jones turned, his gaze falling on the three sleeping children in the bed. He then smiled and sat beside his wife, gently touching her face.
“Don’t worry, I’m just going out for a bit, I’ll be back soon.”
His wife asked, “But… it’s so late, what are you going out to do? Cledon, didn’t the station give you leave? You’re still injured, you should be resting.”
Jones was touched by her words, a hint of emotion flickering in his eyes, “The injury is a small matter, making money is the big deal. I want to buy you nice new clothes, make you feel like a true lady. The kids will start school soon, I need to save some money for their tuition, I…”
His wife couldn’t help but cover his mouth with her hand, “Cledon, stop, please stop.”
With tears streaming down her face, she pleaded, “You’ve been bringing money home for the past six months, I asked the other officers’ wives, they told me their husbands didn’t take as much as you. Cledon, tell me the truth, what have you been doing these past six months?”
Cledon fell silent, his eyes meeting his wife’s tearful gaze. He pulled her into his arms.
“My dear, I had no choice. I want us to live a good life, but the price of a good life is doing things others wouldn’t dare to do. That’s how the world works, you don’t eat others, they’ll eat you.”
His wife shook her head, her tear-stained face lifted as she held his face in her hands.
“Cledon, you’ve grown a beard, you never used to. I remember when we lived in the countryside, you were a healthy, sunny young man.
We lived a tight life, worrying about tomorrow’s meal every day, but we lived with peace of mind, not like now, always living in fear.”
As she spoke, Jones’s wife fumbled under the bed, pulling out a small rosewood box. It was a token of affection, handcrafted by Jones himself.
Seeing the box, Jones couldn’t help but chuckle, “You still have it?”
His wife didn’t speak, she simply opened the box, revealing seventy-five pounds neatly arranged inside.
She wiped her tears, smiling at Jones, “Take this back to them, I haven’t spent a penny. Your salary isn’t much, but it’s already better than what we had before. We’ll start over, we’ll have a good future.
Cledon, don’t go tonight, I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling. Don’t go tonight, okay? Stay with me, stay with the kids. They hardly ever see you when they’re awake since we came to London.”
Jones looked at the money, then at his wife’s face. He was smiling, but there was a hidden pain in his smile.
“It’s too late… it’s all too late… Even if I wanted to get out, they wouldn’t let me.
But don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m connected to a lot of bigwigs, and those bigwigs are connected to even bigger ones.
We’re all in the same boat, they can’t just watch the ship sink, can they?”
He stood up, ready to push the door open.
But before he could leave, his wife suddenly rushed in front of him, grabbing his hand tightly, “You’re not going anywhere tonight!”
Jones looked at his wife, only shaking his head with a smile. He raised his hand, gently separating her fingers one by one.
He leaned close to her ear, whispering, “I’m sorry, my dear, I’ve gone too far, too far to turn back.”
…
Arthur stood on the rooftop, witnessing everything unfold. Agareus, for reasons unknown, presented all the scenes and dialogues directly to him.
Arthur, his pipe clenched between his teeth, slowly puffed on his smoke, “Agareus, what are you doing?”
The Red Devil looked at the bright crescent moon, his face bathed in moonlight, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
“Arthur, didn’t you say you wanted to know everything? Since you want to know everything, I’ll grant your wish. This is a special service, no charge, no need for any promises from you.”
Arthur sucked the last bit of tobacco from his pipe, tapping the ash onto the railing.
“Free service from the Devil? Am I the first to get this kind of treatment?”
Agareus simply smiled, “Not really, it’s just that this service hasn’t been offered for a long time.”
Arthur glanced at him, saying nothing, simply walking down the stairs step by step.
The Red Devil asked, “Where are you going?”
Arthur’s voice drifted back, “Fred’s detective agency. Since Jones has decided to leave, I’ll just wait for him there, saves me running around.”
Agareus watched his retreating figure, raising his hand, flames dancing on his fingertips.
He looked up at the stars, muttering words only a devil could understand, seemingly asking a question, then seemingly providing an answer.
Memories spanning millennia flooded his mind, leaving him with a mixture of doubt and confusion.
“Bright star, son of dawn! How have you fallen from heaven? You who shattered the nations, how have you been cut down to the ground?
You said in your heart, ‘I will ascend to heaven, I will raise my throne above the stars of God, I will sit on the mount of assembly, in the far north, I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will be like the Most High.’
But you will be brought down to Sheol, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you will gaze at you and ponder over you, saying, ‘Is this the man who shook the earth, who made kingdoms tremble, who made the world like a desert and destroyed its cities, who did not set his prisoners free to go home?’
All the kings of the nations lie in their glory, each in their own tomb.
But you are cast out, unfit for your grave, like a despised branch, clothed with the slain, those who were pierced by the sword and fell into the pit, to the rocks.
You are like a trampled corpse, you will not be buried with kings, for you have destroyed your land, you have slaughtered your people, the name of the wicked will never be remembered.”
Agareus opened the parchment scroll clutched in his armpit, pushing his monocle back into place, muttering to himself.
“Come on, Arthur, let me see what choice you make.”
*I owe five chapters now, my state has been bad these past two days, I’ve been stuck in a rut. I apologize to all the readers. From tomorrow, I’ll update one chapter a day, three to four chapters daily, and try to catch up within a week.*
*(End of Chapter)*