The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 907: Chapter 22: The Truth of That Year

The sun sets in the west, in an unremarkable restaurant within the Saint-Germain district of Paris.

Louis and Arthur found an inconspicuous corner to sit in.

While ordering, they began exchanging recent experiences, discussing everything from Victor’s detective agency to the history of the Bonaparte Family, and then to Louis Philippe’s genuine intentions in wishing to meet Louis.

Arthur did not immediately jump into sensitive topics; instead, he raised his hand for a whiskey with lemon juice and casually asked: “So that was Mr. Valevsky? Previously in London, I went through all sorts of trouble trying to find him to no avail, yet here in Paris I encounter him so effortlessly.”

Louis struck his lighter in a dull manner, taking a swift drag from his cigarette – it was evident that he felt uneasy inside: “Are you still thinking about the Liverpool affair? I thought you’d forgotten it.”

Arthur shook his head with a smile: “Louis, you think far too generously of me. Ask Tom and Tony, and you’ll know that when I was a patrolman in the East End, any ruffian bold enough to attack our district would be dragged out from the deep alleys by me, either to be exiled to Australia and Canada, or left to rot in Old Ship Prison or New Gate Prison.”

Louis took down his pipe and laughed: “Seems I used to think you were too kind. From this perspective, you’re quite similar to Mr. Victor, who once told me that anyone daring to offend or attack him and the Security Department employees would be sent to the Guillotine by any means possible. And in the days leading up to their Guillotine appointment, he wouldn’t even give the prisoners a drop of water, so they couldn’t spit at them on the platform.”

Arthur stirred the spoon in his porcelain cup: “You’ve thought me too kind, and Mr. Victor far too evil. But because he’s crossed paths with many, the Parisian opinion often attacks him. Consider that Mr. Victor caught over twenty thousand people during his tenure at the Great Paris Police Hall; among them, nobody would speak kindly of him. Fraudsters, thieves, hooligans, and even a part of his colleagues at the Great Paris Police Hall at that time, all wished him dead.”

“Paris Police also despise Victor?” Louis asked: “Why?”

“It’s quite simple,” Arthur began: “His situation is identical to mine at Scotland Yard. But where he differs from me is that I’m a graduate of the University of London, and he rose from the streets. So, when disaster strikes us, Whitehall can still give me a second-class secretary position, whereas he’s sent back to where he came from.”

Louis glanced at the bustling street outside the window: “You mean, someone backs you up, but not Victor?”

Arthur chuckled: “Not just these matters; my background is also much cleaner than his.”

“Clean?” Louis seemed a bit puzzled: “What difference is there in what the two of you did last year? Aside from different locations, one acted on the Île de la Cité in Paris, the other beneath the Tower of London in the East End of London; I can’t tell any difference.”

Arthur took the glass from the waiter’s hand: “Louis, that’s your perspective, not the Government’s. To the Government, whether it’s the Île de la Cité or the Tower of London, what Victor and I did was a service, where’s the fault in that?”

“Interesting viewpoint.” Louis raised his eyebrows: “If so, where is your background cleaner than his?”

Arthur leaned leisurely in his chair, sipping his drink: “For those of us not appointed through elections, the thing to consider is how the person appointing you views you. The criteria they use to assess someone boil down to three points. First, whether your ability and reputation can uphold the post, thereby adding prestige to their own résumé through your accomplishments. Second, if your ability is strong enough, are you within their control? Third, if your ability and reputation aren’t enough to uphold, can appointing you bring them benefits in other areas?”

Louis wasn’t dense; he quickly grasped Arthur’s meaning: “You’re saying that although Mr. Victor’s ability is sufficiently strong, his street origins and prior cases have led the authorities to label him as difficult to control? Whereas you, with the University of London graduate status, at least Lord Brougham’s faction of people would always regard you as one of their own? Oh, and Viscount Melbourne, you helped him settle so many affairs before, he somewhat owes you. Is this why you settled smoothly?”

At this point, Louis suddenly laughed self-deprecatingly: “If so, why do you still remember the Liverpool assassination case? Despite not having concrete evidence, earlier we concluded, didn’t we? Even if the case wasn’t done by people inside the Whig Party, it was surely closely linked to them.”

Arthur did not respond immediately; instead, he pulled out a newspaper from his pocket, one he swiped while visiting the British Embassy yesterday morning, a mundane The Times published a week ago.

The bold newspaper headline, with just a single straightforward sentence, narrated a matter capable of affecting the entire Far East trade.

“The 1833 India Government Bill” passed Parliament vote, renewing the East India Company Charter for a term of 20 years.

The Act decides to completely abolish all exclusive trade privileges previously enjoyed by the East India Company, including China trade, and decides to fully dismantle its trade institutions. However, the company’s military and administrative structures shall continue to operate, entrusted by His Majesty the King and Parliament to extend its colonial rule over India.