The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1816 - 109: All Is the Underworld, All Is Grudge

As the first chief and creator of the Police Intelligence Department, Sir Arthur Hastings’ personal character naturally had a profoundly far-reaching impact on the operation style of this department.

Although he left this place three years ago, even today, the Police Intelligence Department still retains many old traditions from when Arthur Hastings was in charge.

Back then, in various archival documents and correspondence of the Police Intelligence Department, Sir Arthur Hastings often used the letter "A" as a pseudonym, which is the first of the twenty-six letters, symbolizing his primary position in the Police Intelligence Department. At the same time, A is also the first letter of "Arthur," so it can also refer to Sir Arthur Hastings himself.

And after Arthur left the Police Intelligence Department, his successors also referred to themselves as "A."

Perhaps because Sir Arthur Hastings had a background in Electromagnetism research, he installed a green light outside the "Mr. A" office. Officers who have worked in the Police Intelligence Department for a long time know that if the green light is on, it indicates "Mr. A" is busy with official duties, and no visitors are allowed. Also, a certain type of special invisible ink exclusively belongs to "Mr. A."

In addition to this, numerous coded language is another distinctive feature of the Greater London Police Intelligence Department.

Besides various significant letters, there are many secrets in the Police Intelligence Department.

For instance, there are so-called "AX reports," where "AX" is derived from "A Exclusively."

Here, storage is abbreviated as "P/A," review is abbreviated as "L/U," and "D/E" is abbreviated for destruction. These abbreviations can also be combined with each other, such as "P/A-L/U," meaning "place back after reading," and "L/U-D/E" representing "burn after reading."

Such baffling abbreviations are frequent in the files of the Police Intelligence Department, all of which were, of course, great inventions by Sir Arthur Hastings, and the nobleman was quite upright to not register any patents for his vast "inventions and creations," making all abbreviations open source.

However, even if the nobleman allowed others to use his patents, if you haven’t undergone systematic training or long-term presence in the working environment of the Police Intelligence Department, it’s still challenging to decode the internal encrypted language of this system.

The night deepens, but the rain lightens a bit. Wheels roll through the roadside puddles, splashing rings of light that reflect on the silver head of Arthur’s cane through the car window.

Returning from Kensington Palace to the carriage interior of Scotland Yard, the lighting was dim. Sir Arthur Hastings, who had just had a hearty meal, leaned against the corner of the carriage, holding a silver cane with one hand, while lightly tapping his knee with the fingers of the other.

"Hoot." He looked at Hoot opposite him, with a tone that sounded casual yet like a test: "Was it you who managed the interrogation after the CS (suspect) was brought to the bureau?"

Hoot froze for a moment before quickly responding: "No, it was the interview team three from section B3—Calvin."

"That skinny guy who’s always chewing on pencil heads?" Arthur nodded: "His work capability is indeed good."

Hoot said in a low voice: "When Garth first entered the bureau, he still had a hard mouth, spoke nonsense, but after drinking some beef tea spiked with orange liqueur, he began to speak more. He said he’s not afraid of going to prison because he knows someone in the palace. He also said he wrote an E/B letter (extortion letter), and if something happens to him, the letter will fall into the hands of Thomas Barnes, the editor of The Times."

"Thomas Barnes, huh? That’s a bit tricky, this Jupiter of The Times may not necessarily buy my favor..." Arthur bit his pipe: "Did you intercept that letter?"

"No, but Chief Inspector Charles Field specially adjusted personnel to send intelligence via S line and D line, and no suspicious letters were found, so it should be a bluff." Hoot paused, adding: "Later, Superintendent Laidley King also sent people to Garth’s residence to conduct T/C searches and found nothing of value."

Listening to this, Arthur couldn’t help but laugh: "Is that so? Looks like Laidley has been pretty busy today."

Not knowing exactly what Laidley was experiencing, Officer Hoot only thought Arthur was praising his old subordinate for working effectively, he agreed: "Indeed, Superintendent Laidley King worked very meticulously, and I heard today’s operation was personally led by him."

"Let it be, let’s not talk about him." Arthur looked out the car window, seeing Whitehall Street getting closer: "Listen, Hoot, when you return, mark the file of this CS case as R/G, keep only one copy, and file classified archives as L/U–P/A. Regarding the B3’s original confession, restrict from F/N segment (restricted public section) onward, everything below D/E (destroy), if Field questions you later, just say it was an A instruction letter."

Hoot sat up straight: "Yes, sir."

Arthur didn’t say much more, only tapped the car wall lightly with his knuckles. The carriage stopped steadily before Scotland Yard, and the driver got off to open the door for him.

The night wind mixed with the dampness from the rain rushed in, and the gas lamps on Whitehall Street flickered.

The patrolman standing next to a kiosk on the street corner, with the brim of his hat bearing the badge of Scotland Yard pressed low, only nodded slightly when Arthur approached.

Arthur stepped up the stairs with the silver-headed cane, with a steady gait, the sound of dripping water still trailing behind him.

He did not remove his hat, nor did he shake off the water droplets on his cloak; instead, he continued directly through the foyer, heading silently towards the corridor on the eastern side of the second floor.