The Shadow of Great Britain

629: Chapter 311 More and More Clouds of Suspicion Over Liverpool_3 629: Chapter 311 More and More Clouds of Suspicion Over Liverpool_3 If after the assassination of the commissioner, the name “Malthus” provoked the sensitive nerves of Liverpool’s poor and sparked a new round of riots, then the Liverpool authorities would be thoroughly doomed.

Mil was silent for a moment before suddenly speaking, “Arthur, all I can say is, at least from the information I have, the Polish assassins who tried to kill you should not have been sent by the company.

Although I don’t want to flaunt my father’s work, the company would not lay hands on a council member’s son.

You know, I was at the Golden Lion Hotel when the assassination happened.”

However, regarding Mr.

Malthus’s matter, I can’t rule out that someone high up in the company had given it some thought.

But what they could do, what they would do, is limited to that extent; the company has the ability to exert some marginal influence on the Cabinet and Parliament, but the ultimate decision-making power is always in the hands of the Cabinet.

The East India Company is not as powerful as everyone imagines; we are ultimately under the leadership of His Majesty the King and Parliament.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur extended his hand to Mil, “John, thank you for your candor.

However unreasonable the request might be, I hope you could convey a message on my behalf to the company, asking if they could withdraw the recommendation to send Mr.

Malthus over.

Although from your description, Mr.

Malthus is not particularly difficult to deal with, it would be very hard for me if that gentleman really came.”

Mil clasped the hand that Arthur extended, “No problem, I’ll try my best.

But still, I want to ask, if the issue doesn’t lie with the company, what do you plan to do?”

“If the problem isn’t with the company…”

Arthur said with a smile, “Then I can only hope that my superior, the Home Secretary Viscount Melbourne, is as kind-hearted and noble a gentleman as the ladies of London say.

For the sake of ‘British’ going through the trouble of printing a special ending to ‘The Pickwick Papers’ to defend him, I hope he can spare a moment from his busy schedule to glance at the personal letter I had someone deliver.”

Upon hearing this, Mil frowned deeply, “Has the situation gotten this bad?

Do you suspect the Home Office deliberately sent police officers to Liverpool to die?”

“I don’t know.

On the surface, the case seems sloppy, but the operations underneath are very meticulous, not at all like a hastily planned sudden attack.”

Arthur continued, “Scotland Yard’s principle is, until we can completely rule out suspicion, we maintain doubt about all possibilities.

Many people have a motive for doing this, unfortunately, the Home Office, which is pushing the ‘County and Borough Police Act,’ is one of them.”

Worried, Mil asked, “Forgive my bluntness, but if it was the doing of the Home Office, wouldn’t it be like walking into a trap for you?

Arthur, although Mr.

Malthus’s theories are somewhat extreme, he and Hume were right about one thing, we cannot pin our hopes for solving problems on the morality of individuals.”

Arthur, holding his forehead, said, “Of course, I understand that, but I’ve still got to try first, haven’t I?”

Upon hearing this, Mil pursed his lips, “God bless you, Arthur.

I’ll write to my father right now, hoping it will help your plan.”

With that, Mil rose and left the room.

And almost at the same instant as Mil left the room, a carriage leisurely stopped in front of the Golden Lion Hotel.

The carriage door opened, and the first thing that caught everyone’s eye was a striking red and black dress, followed by black lace gloves dotted with a few lovely pearls.

It was a lady with a wide-brimmed black sun hat, her long lashes veiled by a thin layer of black chiffon, making it clear that someone in her family had just passed away.

Assisted by the coachman, the lady stepped out of the carriage and first sized up the hotel, adorned with ivory-white marble reliefs, and the fully armed Scotland Yard officers standing guard.

She then raised her hand to tuck her long hair behind her ears and muttered softly,

“Quite imposing, it looks just like a lavishly decorated coffin.

How can you not meet your end living in a place like this?

Coming to Liverpool, a place teeming with Irish, really is making a fool of oneself.

Wouldn’t it be nice to just hide in the baby room at number 4 Whitehall, specially made for you by Scotland Yard?”

As the lady muttered to herself, Mr.

Schneider, a secretary from the Foreign Office who had just coordinated work with others, walked out of the hotel with the relaxed smile that comes with smooth sailing.

He caught sight of the lady, who looked like a flower amidst the grass, and perhaps because he was in a good mood, Schneider playfully winked at her with a slick smile, asking, “Madam, do you need help?

I have plenty of time today, so don’t worry, if there’s anything you need assistance with, just let me know.”

Fiona was no stranger to such flirtation.

She merely raised her black-gloved hand apologetically, touching the edge of the black veil on her hat.

Schneider, upon seeing her gesture, immediately thought of the assassination that had occurred in front of the Golden Lion Hotel.

Perhaps the lady’s husband was one of the unfortunate victims in that explosion?

Once this crossed his mind, Schneider, who had German lineage, swiftly distanced himself from any association with Bavarians, apologizing, “Sorry, madam, it was not my intention to overlook this.

Forgive me, I should have realized sooner.

My condolences.

Please trust the government; we will certainly seek justice for your husband.”