The Shadow of Great Britain

340: Chapter 210: Old Paris (5K2)_2 340: Chapter 210: Old Paris (5K2)_2 Although the document was filled with extensive writing, as a police secretary who had once assisted Superintendent Clemens with office paperwork, he felt that the roundabout document could be summarized in one sentence—before things were cleared up, all police districts must refuse media interviews and were not allowed to admit any wrongdoing.

If anyone wanted to admit a mistake, they should also be prepared with a letter of resignation.

At such a moment, Jones immediately demonstrated his politically correct stance, “Section C, Paragraph A, Item 1 of the Greater London Police Department’s Internal Management Regulations states that officers must maintain a high degree of political neutrality, and officers should not carry any personal emotions or political inclinations during police operations.

Protecting the lives and property of London citizens and reducing the overall crime rate are the absolute core and sole content of an officer’s work.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur nodded again, “You’ve got that memorized well, it seems you’re indeed very committed to this area.

But speaking of the regulations, it just reminds me of something, you should know that they are due for a revision soon.

Some new content might be added, such as, to prevent lack of experience or internal nepotism and corruption, Scotland Yard will refer to the Royal Navy’s management regulations to set tenure restrictions for police promotions.

From now on, to be promoted to sergeant one must have served at least three years in Scotland Yard, and at least six years for Police Superintendent, and so on, up to the highest rank of Police Commissioner.”

Upon hearing this, Jones’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Superintendent Hastings, is this…

is this targeted at you?”

Arthur didn’t bother to beat around the bush with Jones, “Perhaps, but that’s in the past.

However, now I have turned the page with Commissioner Rowan.

The positions of Police Commissioner and Assistant Commissioner are currently filled, and I am not particularly interested in pushing for promotion.

Furthermore, from a long-term perspective, the passage of this revision will be a good thing for the overall development of Scotland Yard, so I don’t plan on opposing it.

But, although it doesn’t matter to someone without desires like me, it will certainly demotivate those ambitious officers who are keen to advance and dedicate themselves to serving the citizens of London at higher positions.

Therefore, young officers with aspirations for promotion had better make some commendable achievements soon.

Jones, in this regard, I wish you perseverance and success!”

When Jones heard this, he felt a shiver in his heart.

A spark of realization flashed through his mind, and looking at the red brick building in front of him, he finally understood why Arthur had specifically ordered Whitechapel Police Station to dispatch officers at the crack of dawn.

With this thought, the slight complaints and worries about being questioned by his superiors vanished from Jones’s mind.

Damn it, Superintendent Clemens was about to be out of the picture anyway, and as long as I don’t stir up any trouble for him, isn’t that enough?

If he tries to block my promotion, I’ll just frame him with a couple of guns tomorrow.

If I can’t move up, neither will he!

Especially with Parliament keeping a close eye on Scotland Yard recently because of the Bernie Harrison affair!

Once Jones’s thoughts became clear, his vision broadened, and even the dirty air of the East End seemed somewhat sweet to the taste.

Arthur adjusted his neck, took a puff of his cigarette, and said, “By the way, I’ve arranged to meet a journalist at the Whitechapel Police Station today, Charles Dickens.

You’ve met him a few times, haven’t you?”

Suppressing the joy in his heart, Jones nodded repeatedly, “Of course, I know Mr.

Dickens.

He is an upright and cultured journalist.

He has conducted several news investigations in Whitechapel before, all under your orders for me to arrange protection.”

Arthur blew out a ring of smoke, “Times have changed.

Mr.

Dickens’s ‘The Pickwick Papers’ is currently being serialized on ‘The British’ and is very popular.

I heard he is considering giving up his job as a journalist to fully dedicate himself to literary writing.

This interview might become his swan song in the news industry, so I believe he will write it with great care.”

With that, Arthur pocketed one hand, waved to Jones with his arm, “Then I’ll head to the station first and wait for you, Jones.

I’m looking forward to your good news.”

With those words, he disappeared into the morning fog of London.

Jones solemnly saluted the retreating figure for a long time until he could no longer see the tail of Arthur’s coat.

Almost instantly, Jones’s expression changed.

The police superintendent, who had just been kind and gentle, whose voice had been as calm as a tranquil autumn lake, suddenly became like a raging devil freshly emerged from Hell to the Mortal World.

If Arthur had been there, he would have been greatly surprised.

If one didn’t observe carefully, they might not realize that this young police officer, who seemed timid and harmless more than half a year ago, now had a tough demeanor after more than six months of field experience.

Indeed, the simple folk customs of Tower Hamlets were quite nurturing.

Jones spat on the ground and strode forward with his boots as cold as ice, pushing through the police officers in front of him to reach the door.

After glancing at the officers beside him and ensuring everything was ready, he took a deep breath, kicked open the door in front of him, drew his flintlock pistol, pointed it into the dark interior, and bellowed, “Police!

You sons of bitches, get down on the ground!”