If it weren’t for the fact that hardly anyone is willing to take the bla for him in Tower Hamlets, and Minister Luo Wan also feels that putting Chief Inspector Jones in the position is quite appropriate, it’s estimated that Jones would have been taken down long ago.
Speaking of Jones, Field used to look down on him, thinking that a diocre guy like Jones could rise to the position of Chief Inspector purely because of luck and latching onto Police Superintendent Hasting’s leg.
But as years passed, Field’s impression of him greatly changed. Though Jones is not outstanding in ability, at least in these years, under his precarious managent, there have been constant small mistakes in Tower Hamlets, but no major blunders.
He can endure in a harsh survival environnt, diligently doing his job without uttering a word of complaint or grievance.
Moreover, when the Ho Office launched an investigation, Jones surprisingly didn’t reveal any dark secrets about Police Superintendent Hasting, forcing the investigators, who viewed him as a breakthrough point, to return empty-handed, which undoubtedly made everyone see him in a new light.
It is from Jones that Field finally understood what Bacon’s famous saying ant.
Jones is the perfect embodint of "Vice in prosperity displays virtue in adversity."
Arthur sat beside Field, drinking beer and quietly listening to him talk about the changes at Scotland Yard over the past two years.
When Field finished speaking, he put down his empty beer mug: "For in the sa way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the asure you use, it will be asured to you."
Field was silent for a mont before responding: "Matthew 7:1."
Arthur took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth: "I know what you’re hoping for, but I won’t sympathize with Jones for what he’s gone through these past years, because it’s the retribution he must suffer for his previous series of cris..."
Field raised his head to look at Arthur, his mouth half-open as if wanting to say sothing.
But before he could ponder his words, Arthur spoke up again: "However, this doesn’t prevent from expressing admiration for the qualities and professionalism he has shown in the midst of this series of retributions. To make as few mistakes as possible is the standard for humans. Not making mistakes is the dream of angels. The best people in this world are often those who have made mistakes in the past. A person often becos better in the future because of so shortcomings now. I am glad I didn’t chase Jones down in the past, otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen who he is today. No matter the environnt, being able to steadfastly do his job well, he is now worthy of the police uniform he wears, not just satisfactory, but even outstanding."
The sound of a Thas River barge’s whistle ca to Field’s ears.
He rotated the empty glass in his hand: "You’re right, like you taught when inspecting the scene back then, truth often hides in the most conspicuous stain. Chief Inspector Jones’ police uniform now indeed reflects so humanity..."
Field involuntarily paused: "Excuse for being presumptuous, do you have a chance to return? You don’t know, now Criminal Investigation Departnt is almost like an Army Staff Headquarters, those newcors can’t even distinguish between fingerprint impressions and shoe prints, last week in Whitechapel..."
Arthur tapped the table with his pipe handle, interrupting Field’s words: "Charles, I thought my na was long past at Scotland Yard."
Upon hearing this, Field straightened up and quoted a famous saying from "Death of King Arthur": "The wheel of fate turns unceasingly, heroes will eventually fall, but legends never wilt. They desperately tried to scrub away your traces at Scotland Yard, but as long as one isn’t blind, anyone can see your portrait hanging there. I don’t care what others think; in the Criminal Investigation Departnt, the only one qualified to guide in solving cases is you."
Field’s expression was so straightforward and direct, it genuinely surprised Arthur.
He knows he has a good reputation among grassroots officers, but for middle and higher-level officers, a good reputation and being worth backing are two different things because what they need to consider is not just Arthur’s "Royal" title and pay raise.
However, Arthur indeed heard out, even if only in three or two sentences, enough to let him understand how much Field suffered over the past years.
Though "a fallen tree leads the monkeys to scatter," it doesn’t stop him from feeling very angry to see Hasting’s faction at Scotland Yard being so oppressed.
Having a portrait hang on Scotland Yard’s wall represents both honor and responsibility and pressure.
If he sees his old troops suffering and yet he cannot stand up and shield them, it might as well replace that portrait with a circus clown, at least the image would better match the protagonist’s character.
In a place like Scotland Yard, which is heavily imbued with military habits, a submissive coward earns no respect, only invites intensifying wind and rain-like aggression.
Arthur sliced off a piece of ham and put it in his mouth: "Charles, do you believe in Heaven?"
"Heaven?"
Arthur turned his head and locked his eyes: "I don’t believe."
"Why?"
"Because I’ve been trapped in this hell for too long," Arthur’s eyes flared red, "One can control their own fate, and if we are subjugated by it, the fault lies not in fate but in ourselves. You say Arthur Hastings’ na is not past history at Scotland Yard, but sorry, I don’t see it in you."
Just a single glance was enough to bring beads of sweat to Field’s forehead; he couldn’t help but lower his head, apologizing to Arthur: "I’m sorry, Sir, we..."
Arthur raised his hand to signal him to stop: "Charles, I don’t an to bla you, just want to point out that you weren’t careful in your speech. You encountered a problem and want to seek help from ; I don’t bla you for that. However, I hope that should there be a next ti, now that I’m retired, you must learn how to fight for yourselves."
As soon as Arthur’s words fell, Officer Mike Colley, even sitting cautiously to the side, couldn’t help but tremble three tis.
Was this still the amicable gentleman who just wanted to buy him a drink?
Seemingly, yet not quite.
He indeed didn’t say anything harsh, nor was his tone agitated, not even a single curse.
But each letter felt like a knife plunging into one’s body, unseen wounds bleeding, but each cut was heart-wrenchingly painful.
If earlier Colley didn’t understand why such a person could have his portrait hung at Scotland Yard, now, he finally understood.
Sir Arthur Hastings is indeed a genuine big shot.
Regardless of Minister Luo Wan, Sir Richard Mayne, or the renowned stern Chief Marshal, among the senior officers of Scotland Yard, no one possesses such an aura.
A few sentences can make people feel utterly submissive and deeply ashad, but amidst the sha, subordinates can also feel unprecedented reassurance.
Colley swore to heaven, since he entered Scotland Yard, it’s the first ti he saw his direct superior could be scolded like an erring school student.
Field slightly bowed, feeling ashad: "Sorry, Sir, we’ve brought sha to your na."
Arthur spoke no more, calmly taking out a stack of docunts from the leather bag he carried: "I need you to look into so things for ."
"Sir, please give your orders," fearing to miss any detail, Field pulled out a pen and paper from his pocket: "In what aspect?"
"The details are all in the docunts; you know my temper. I give you two days to find out."
Arthur paused for a mont, then continued: "But if summarized, I want to kindly remind Scotland Yard, and especially remind Minister Luo Wan: why is the portrait on the wall at Scotland Yard of instead of you."
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