shadow of britain

Chapter 99 Good News and Bad News

In the shadowy night, in a dark corner of Brick Lane in Whitechapel.

The burly man with fierce eyes was stepping in the puddle and sticking his head out, looking at the street with few people.

Suddenly, he spotted a single girl who was in a hurry, and a smile of a successful plot appeared on the face of the strong man.

He patiently waited for the girl to reach the alley, then suddenly pulled out the knife hidden behind him, rushed forward to cover her mouth, put the blade on her neck, and pointed her into the alley Little by little.

The girl was struggling and dragged by him all the way, and she couldn't help crying due to the great sense of fear. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't make a sound.

The strong man stared and threatened: "Smelly bitch, shut your mouth, I'm just stealing some money. You must not make a sound, or I will kill you!"

Seeing the girl's white calf disappear little by little under the bright moonlight, and gradually being swallowed into the shadow, the big man's smile in the shadow became more ferocious.

Just as he was thinking about how to ravage the girl after he had robbed the money for a while, a broad and strong palm fell on his shoulder without warning.

Behind him sounded the authentic Chinglish with a unique flavor and every word.

"What are you fucking doing?"

The strong man turned his head abruptly, and after only one glance, goose bumps fell all over the floor.

Those were a dozen or so big men wearing big-brimmed hats and black trench coats. Who knows when they came here.

Before the robber opened his mouth to argue, Arthur kicked him in the stomach first, then picked up a broken brick from the ground and stuffed it into the mouth of the fallen robber.

"Divide into two people, and bring this idiot back to the Bureau."

The girl stared blankly at what was happening before her eyes. She just came back to her senses and was about to get up to thank Arthur when she saw him put his finger between his lips.

"Ma'am, I don't need to say thank you. We are on a special mission. It's so late, you'd better not go out. You are lucky this time. You have to understand that not every nightingale is killed can meet an owl."

After finishing speaking, Arthur tilted his head at Dennis again: "Dennis, you are responsible for escorting this lady back."

Upon hearing this, Officer Dennis hurried forward to help the lady up: "Ma'am, don't worry. We are the patrol officers of Scotland Yard. Where is your home? I have been ordered to escort you."

Hearing this, the girl braced her weak legs, and forced a smile on her pale face. She lifted her long skirt and gave Arthur a slight salute, and then left here with Dennis' support.

Looking at their figures going away, Arthur couldn't help frowning and said, "Whitechapel District doesn't deserve its reputation. I just squat here for a while, and I can always run into a major case."

Hearing this, the Red Devil just smiled and said, "Arthur, you should withdraw your attention as soon as possible. I have already seen through the darkness that the carriage you have been waiting for has arrived."

As soon as Agares finished speaking, there was a burst of tinkling bells on the street.

The driver of the car was sweating profusely. He looked around the streets of Brick Lane in a panic, feeling that his whole heart was in his throat.

"First... Sir, No. 75 Brick Lane is coming soon, please check if you settle the bill in advance, I dare not stop here for a while."

As soon as he finished speaking, a gap was opened in the communication window between the driver and the passenger, and a banknote between two fingers stuck out.

Jones's slightly tired voice also sounded: "Don't worry, I can't lose you. Remember to help me move some things later, and the extra will be considered as a tip."

The coachman took the bill and looked at it. It was a brand new one pound.

Under the blessing of the power of money, he suddenly felt courageous all over his body.

Although the driver's hand holding the rein was still trembling, a smile was already written on his face.

"Okay, sir, isn't it just a few boxes? No problem!"

While the two were talking, the wheels of the carriage stopped.

The driver took out the towel on his shoulders and wiped his sweat, then took a deep breath, jumped off the seat, slapped the door and shouted.

"Sir, let's get to the place, let's start moving things."

The car door was slowly pushed open, revealing three boxes of goods hidden inside and Jones holding a flintlock pistol and covering the lower half of his face with a black cloth.

The coachman was taken aback by him. He was about to scream, but Jones covered his mouth first.

The muzzle of the black hole was on the head of the coachman. Jones warned: "If you want to make money, be honest! Help me move the things down, and then it will be nothing to do with you. But if you dare to shout, then I don't mind if your hands Add a life."

The coachman raised his hands high, looked at Jones fixedly, then swallowed, nodded slowly.

"Okay... I... I will listen to you."

Under Jones' coercion and surveillance, the coachman carried down the boxes one by one. He was panting from exhaustion, but he didn't even dare to utter a word.

Jones just stared at him as he moved the box to the door of the detective agency, and then instructed the driver: "You, go up and knock on the door."

"what?"

The coachman wanted to refuse, but just as he hesitated, Jones' pistol was placed on his chin again.

He had already been psychologically shadowed by what happened when he came to the detective agency last time. After all, no one could explain Fred's temper clearly.

When the night fell, it was the time when the bestiality in the human body was at its best. If Fred suddenly went crazy and shot him twice, Jones couldn't bear it.

He read to the driver: "I asked you to knock on the door, are you deaf?"

"Okay! I'll knock, don't get excited, don't get excited."

The coachman complained repeatedly in his heart, but the matter had come to this point, and he had no other choice.

He stretched out his hand tremblingly, and patted the door of the detective agency, but there was still no response after a long time.

Jones held the pistol in both hands and pressed it against the back of the coachman's head. He always felt an inexplicable anxiety in his heart.

He yelled at the coachman: "Strength!"

The coachman had no choice but to clenched his fist and slammed it heavily on the door of the office, but after a long time, there was still no movement in the house.

A bad feeling flashed in Jones' heart. He finally realized that something was wrong. His first reaction was to turn around and want to run, but just as he took a step, he remembered what Superintendent Clemens told him yesterday.

Clemens' tone yesterday, he remembered... very harsh.

If the goods could not be delivered to Fred, then according to Clemens' temper, Jones would probably eat them by himself.

But how could he have the channels and connections to digest these stolen goods?
If these things are left in his hands for a day, he will have no peace for a day. Wealth is certainly what everyone wants, but not everyone has the strength to protect it.

Thinking of this, Jones had no choice but to bite the bullet and said to the coachman, "Break it away for me."

"what?"

The coachman wanted to cry, but he began to complain in his heart why he didn't respect God, so that he ran into such a thing.

"Sir...I..."

"I let you break through that door!"

Jones was also forced to have no way out. With his finger on the trigger, he forced the driver to say, "I'll count to three. If you don't knock it away, I'll fucking kill you on the spot!"

The coachman almost knelt down to Jones, and he begged humbly: "Sir, please let me go for the sake of my family, I really can't do it."

Jones stared at the coachman with wide eyes and trembling body. He bit his lip, and after a long stalemate, he kicked his ass hard.

"Get out! Get the fuck out of here!"

"Thank you! Thank you, sir!" The coachman climbed into the carriage with hands and feet as if he had been pardoned, shook the reins and drove away: "God bless you!"

Jones held a gun in one hand and pinched his waist with the other. He looked up at the dark detective agency and sighed suddenly: "Oh!"

He took two steps back, slumped his shoulders and slammed into the door with all his might.

However, when his shoulder hit the gate, he encountered little resistance.

The door was not actually locked, only a creak was heard, and Jones stumbled and rushed in.

He staggered and fell to the ground, and accidentally pulled the trigger with his finger on the pistol.

There was only a bang, and the musket was fired, and the bullet hit Jones' thigh, bleeding all over the place.

Jones was in pain for a while, but he didn't dare to make a sound. He gritted his teeth and looked up into the dark detective office. Soon he saw the light from the oil lamp on the table in front of him.

And behind the oil lamp, there is a wall with huge words written crookedly. The content of the words is not elegant, but it is full of enthusiasm.

——Brother Jones, welcome!
"This...what's the matter?"

Jones looked around, but he saw nothing but writing on the wall and a table with an oil lamp on it.

All the furniture and decorations were missing, as if the place had just been ransacked, and everything valuable and worthless had been taken out.

Suddenly, Jones heard a burst of scattered footsteps behind him.

Then, lying on the ground, he saw a black windbreaker walking by.

The figure that was familiar enough to make him feel desperate picked up the letter next to the oil lamp. In fear, Jones remembered the gun in his hand.

But before he raised his pistol, he heard a uniform sound of drawing guns behind him.

Jones's hand hanging in the air immediately froze in place.

Arthur opened the letter, just glanced at it, and then heard the angry breath in the quiet environment.

He turned and grabbed the wounded Jones by the collar.

"I have good news and bad news, which one are you going to hear first?"

Jones forced a smile: "Let's hear the good news first..."

"The good news is that you just narrowly escaped death. If you shot the coachman, there would be a dead body lying on the ground now."

Jones let out a long breath, and he said happily, "Then... what about the bad news?"

"The bad news is that you've got us all played by Fred, whether it's for me or Clemens, you're fucking incompetent!"

As soon as the words fell, Arthur raised his fist and slammed him on the side of the face.

Hearing a bang, Jones lost consciousness almost instantly and fell to the ground.

Tony hurried forward and asked, "Arthur, what's going on?"

Arthur didn't say anything, he just threw the letter in his hand to Tony.

Tony glanced at it. It was full of obscenities and Fred's pride.

—Jones, Clemens, you're a bunch of asses!You have settled my payment, why should I continue to help you?
——After finishing this vote, plus the property I accumulated before, it is enough for me to buy a large farm in the United States.Goodbye idiots, I'm off to the West to pan for gold.

——Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, when you read this letter, Lao Tzu's boat has already set off.You all fell into Lao Tzu's plan to divert the tiger away from the mountain!
——In addition, Scotland Yard will receive the report letter I left tomorrow, you all wait to go in, idiots!
When Tony saw this, he couldn't help but panic, and he hurriedly asked, "Arthur, what should we do now?"

Arthur thought for a moment, and suddenly remembered what Elder had said to him before. The Beagle seemed to be going to sea for the first sea training today.

He glanced at his watch, and it was three o'clock in the middle of the night. If Elder hadn't talked to him, it seemed that it might not be too late to chase Fred.

"Tom, Tony, you two go to the pier with me immediately! Others, some of them took Jones back to the police station, and the other immediately went to guard in front of the internal affairs department. As soon as Sir Peel arrived, you reported the latest case directly to him and asked him Tell the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Royal Court of the Sea to issue a high seas arrest warrant for Fred!
Finally, if we can't find a ship at the pier, the Royal Navy and Marine Police need to provide ships with enough firepower to stop Fred! "

(End of this chapter)