The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 613 - 306: Three Folders_3

When Daboski ran into his old friend Smith, he casually handed him a guinea coin. Limited by Daboski’s poor vocabulary, he couldn’t accurately convey what he wanted to express. Therefore, Daboski used body language, pinching the buttocks of a prostitute and winking at his old friend.

Startled, Mr. Smith quickly declined, letting Daboski know he was a decent family man who couldn’t betray his family and solemnly warned Daboski to heed God’s teachings and give up those improper habits. Once done speaking, Mr. Smith took the gold coin Daboski had given him and treated him to a drink, chatting late into the night.

Arthur squinted his eyes as he read this, "Earlier you said Daboski’s English was terrible, yet they talked late into the night. Mr. Smith’s testimony is quite intriguing!"

Field took a drag from his cigarette, "That’s human nature for you. Mr. Smith certainly can’t admit to having a grand time with the gold coin Daboski gave him, can he? We also questioned Mrs. Smith later, and she told us that indeed her husband came home late one night with an unexpected sum of money, but not a guinea, rather ten shillings. As long as he didn’t hide anything critical, there’s no need for us to disrupt domestic harmony."

Arthur laughed and leaned back in his chair, "Charles, after all this time at Scotland Yard, your heart hasn’t hardened but softened instead. Is that soft spot a little off, though?"

Field saluted playfully, "All thanks to your excellent guidance, Chief. I’ve just heard about your Scotland Yard conversion method from Mr. Dumas, and I’ve slightly refined it based on that. I think one guinea equaling ten shillings is quite reasonable."

Arthur closed the second file and said, "I’ve put yours in your bedside cabinet, with the truth buried in the second drawer. Moreover, I must mention, this is only the first layer of truth. Since my plastic surgery was so successful, I’m sure someone will reveal the second layer of information to us soon."

Field’s smile couldn’t be contained, "Chief, everyone says a year working with you is worth ten on their own; I definitely need to learn more from you."

"But the money’s not so easy to earn," Arthur pointed at the stitches by his eye, "I don’t mind making sacrifices for the guys, but I can’t always be shedding my own blood, can I?"

Field spoke firmly, "Of course, Chief! I’ll make sure to hang those bastards on the gallows, or at the very least capture a few underlings as a warning."

Arthur nodded slightly, about to review the third document, when he saw that apart from a name, it was blank.

"What’s this about?"

Field hurriedly explained, "The third criminal’s situation is a bit complicated. He hasn’t been in London long and has always kept to himself, not mingling with the nearby residents, usually sticking with other Polish refugees. So, what we’ve learned about him from the parish is very sparse; locals think he’s a strange man and generally don’t have much of an impression of him."

Arthur asked, "Didn’t the detective go to the Polish people to inquire about him then?"

Field said, "We did, but you should be aware of the ’Temporary Control Act of Polish Refugees’ proposed by the Foreign Office, right?"

"What? The Foreign Office doesn’t allow Scotland Yard to contact Poles? They don’t have that authority, do they?" ƒreewebɳovel.com

Field pursed his lips, "Of course, the Foreign Office doesn’t have that power, but isn’t London currently dealing with a cholera outbreak? There was an epidemic in the Polish settlement area recently, so it’s been declared a controlled area by the Central Health Committee, with military police strictly monitoring who comes and goes. Without the ’Temporary Control Act of Polish Refugees’, we would just need a document approved by the Lord Chancellor’s office and could enter in about two or three days. But now we have to go through an application process with the Foreign Office as well, and due to the back and forth, the delay means it’ll likely take about a week before we can formally send someone in."

"Is that so?"

Arthur stared at the name ’Victor Novak’ on the file and mused, "Interesting."