Chapter 2378 - 307: Britain’s Highest-Level Amateur Troupe (Part 2)

Mr. Goodrich wrote to this point, still unable to calm his mind.

Suddenly, the scene before his eyes made him freeze.

He almost thought he was seeing things.

The always composed Sir Arthur Hastings in his writing was actually galloping towards him on a horse, seemingly without any intention to slow down.

He rubbed his eyes and instinctively shouted, "Sir Arthur!"

Arthur originally did not intend to pay attention to this American guy, or perhaps he hadn’t seen him at all. He continued to gallop at full speed towards Westminster Cathedral.

Due to the delay at Paddington Station, all the main roads in London City today were unprecedentedly congested. To save time, Arthur had to rely on the map of London streets in his mind and chose the crisscrossing alleys to travel. These alleys were indeed easier to traverse but also came with increased danger.

Perhaps it was because he had been away from frontline work for too long, presently even the local gangs on London ground barely recognized this former third-ranking figure of Scotland Yard, and some young hooligans hadn’t even heard of the name "Kuro Saburo."

If it weren’t for the fact that he was pressed for time today, the simmering anger within Arthur might have made these youngsters who knew nothing of street rules unable to bear the consequences.

Just when Mr. Goodrich thought Arthur would speed past him, Arthur unexpectedly reined in his horse, took out a pocket watch from his inner pocket, glanced at it, and then stopped steadily in front of him.

"Mr. Goodrich, never expected to run into you here. Major Meadows isn’t accompanying you today?"

Mr. Goodrich politely took off his hat and smiled, "Major Meadows and I got separated, you know, the streets are just too crowded today."

Arthur actually did not plan to spend much energy on this senator from America, but considering Pinkerton might have already arrived in the United States, he had to patiently chat with Mr. Goodrich for a bit longer.

After all, who knows when he might suddenly need his help in the future?

Arthur smilingly asked, "Did you watch the parade this morning? If you haven’t seen it, when the procession returns later, I can arrange a good spot for you."

"Actually, Sir Arthur, I’ve already watched the parade." Mr. Goodrich lightly sighed with some regret in his voice, "However, as you can see, the streets are really too crowded. I’m now more worried that I might miss the coronation ceremony."

...

In fact, the concern of missing the coronation ceremony was shared not only by Mr. Goodrich and Arthur but even Victoria herself.

The procession route from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Cathedral was only 2.5 miles, yet the convoy took a full hour and a half.

Fortunately, at least Arthur did not have to take responsibility for these minor hiccups, as ever since the Pinkerton incident, this head of security hadn’t received any ceremony schedule from the coronation committee.

Despite Arthur repeatedly questioning the lack of rehearsal for the coronation ceremony, at this critical moment, the Whig Party Cabinet had long ignored this Deputy Secretary of the Home Office who bore "significant blemishes."

If Arthur had known that even the coronation ceremony held at Westminster Cathedral was conducted last night as a brief rehearsal at Victoria’s strong request, he would have been in no hurry to rush to Westminster. He might have booked a ticket yesterday to head north to recuperate with Flora.

Just as Arthur arrived at Westminster Cathedral, Rowan, who had been waiting at the front gate, immediately spotted him among the crowd.

Arthur dismounted, while removing the riding gloves, he asked, "Has the ceremony begun?"

"Not started yet, Her Majesty the Queen has just arrived and is changing in the dressing room." Rowan lit a cigarette, "I heard you went to inspect the city streets? No mishaps today, right?"

Arthur casually replied, "All districts performed generally well, but today we can’t conclude yet, as you know, the night hasn’t come and the drunks haven’t come out to play."

Usually composed, Rowan couldn’t help but speak up, "If that’s the case, our task is basically complete. Even if there are a few brawls by drunks tonight, it won’t affect our overall evaluation this time. Someone is backing us, at least the Home Office can’t blame Scotland Yard."

Upon hearing these words, Arthur frowned, "What? Did something go wrong at any step?"

Rowan exhaled angrily, pointing inside the cathedral, "You just didn’t see, Her Majesty’s dressmaids, those eight noble ladies and misses, are practically unable to walk."

Arthur intended to press further, but before he could, Rowan’s former assistant, now Scotland Yard’s Minister Mayne, appeared out of nowhere.

This lawyer-turned-officer was also in a good mood: "Charles, don’t tease the ladies, wearing such long dresses, being able to walk is already great."

However, Rowan was evidently not prepared to let it slide.

This former supervisor of Arthur had, ever since Officer Robert Cali’s memorial ceremony, transformed from an institutional bureaucrat of the Home Office into the staunchest member of the Hastings Faction. The recent use of the Pinkerton incident by the Home Office to stir trouble especially displeased him.

Despite the Home Office repeatedly implying their actions aimed at limiting Arthur, for old officers like Rowan in Scotland Yard, the name Arthur Hastings had long been synonymous with Scotland Yard.

Rowan believed he wasn’t yet senile; hence remembering how the Whig Party treated Scotland Yard during the Cold Bath incident four years ago wasn’t something he could forget so quickly. As for when Scotland Yard’s Royal title was granted, when the officers’ situations improved, and who exerted effort to push for the new Police Bill, all these were clear facts.

For this reason, even though the Whig Party was the ruling party, even though the Home Office repeatedly assured them, the police department couldn’t possibly trust them a second time.

In Rowan’s opinion, undermining Arthur Hastings is equivalent to undermining Scotland Yard, and undermining Scotland Yard is equivalent to undermining his life’s proudest career.

And within Scotland Yard, how many senior officers shared Rowan’s view?

If I said one hundred percent, it would definitely be an exaggeration, but if I said ninety percent, surely there were omissions in reporting.

Because even a profit-driven progressive youth like Ledley King knew that Arthur’s authority within the police system could absolutely not be shaken.

After all, in some sense, Sir Arthur’s ascent directly determines the promotion ceiling of the police system.

It is common knowledge that Britain is a country of case law, and the role of case law transcends mere legal text.

For closed systems like White Hall, traditional influence is truly astonishing.

However, in the currently weakened police system, a capable individual has emerged to establish a new tradition; any hint of not considering Arthur as the absolute core is grounds for immediate expulsion from the team.

Carrying resentment, Rowan had no intention of sparing face for the coronation committee: "Now I can only pray to God, and hope that during the coronation ceremony later, the ladies will refrain from frequently stepping on each other’s long skirt hems. Otherwise, if any disgraceful incidents happen before the monarch, Great Britain would be embarrassed in front of other governments!"

Arthur, receiving the ceremony schedule passed down last night from Mayne, took one glance and couldn’t help but frown: "Are they serious? Having Sir George Smart serve as both conductor and organist? Can he handle it all?"

Mayne smirked slightly: "Who knows what they were thinking? I heard George Smart volunteered for the role, and the coronation committee merely concurred."

"What is this?" Rowan pointed in the direction of Saint Edward’s Chapel in Westminster Abbey: "Take a look there, what’s on the plate on the altar?"

Arthur followed Rowan’s direction and squinted for a good long while before he realized, "Is that... a wine bottle?"

"Not just any wine bottle, it’s the finest coronation ceremony bottle!" Rowan pursed his lips, seemingly ready to vent all his dissatisfaction from these days: "And beside it, the golden plate is filled with sandwiches; I just passed by and ate a piece myself!"