The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 736 - 353 Crazy English_2

How much funding does the Police Intelligence Department receive in a year, what’s your status, and what are your intelligence capabilities?

Not to mention the Foreign Office’s intelligence division from a longer perspective, but even in the past thirty years, they have carried out heavyweight tasks such as the assassination of Napoleon.

At that time, they collaborated with the royalist Chouan faction in France to replicate a new type of explosive device invented by the Paris police headquarters, creating a tremendously powerful bomb carriage.

On December 24, 1800, after learning that Napoleon and his lover Josephine were to attend Haydn’s opera "The Creation" at the Paris Opera House, the Chouan faction drove the bomb carriage to their inevitable route—Rue Saint-Denis.

When Napoleon passed by, the Chouan faction instantly detonated the explosives, destroying about 46 nearby buildings, directly shattering Josephine’s carriage, while Napoleon’s carriage, by sheer luck, escaped the disaster because the explosive device triggered around a dozen seconds later than planned.

Arthur, upon thinking of this, couldn’t help but recall the incident in Liverpool.

One had to admit, the Foreign Office really showed restraint this time. Although they were privy to the inside story of the Liverpool assassination, at least they didn’t provide technical guidance.

As for why the coconut tree ridiculed the explosive assassination to such an extent, Arthur now mostly understood.

Such a powerful explosive not accomplishing the mission, this indeed was an inefficient method of assassination.

Seeing that Arthur remained silent for a long time, Schneider stood up with a smile and patted his shoulder, "Brother, don’t always think about unhappy things. Some cases can be pursued, some can’t. Think carefully why they promoted you to the director of the Police Intelligence Department instead of someone else. They have high hopes for you, and you shouldn’t start planning to go against their wishes as soon as you’re promoted.

Of course, I understand your sense of injustice. After all, you are a true-born Briton. If you were Prussian, or an Austrian, you probably wouldn’t have any qualms about such matters. But since we’re in this line of work, you can only try to make your thinking as Prussian as possible."

Having said that, Schneider left the room quite contentedly.

But as soon as he reached the door, his step suddenly paused.

Schneider turned his head and asked with raised eyebrows, "Brother, speaking of which, that spy of mine?"

Arthur shrugged, "It was a beneficial exchange. I got the information I wanted, so you’ll get what you want too."

Schneider laughed heartily as he pulled on his gloves, "That’s the style of a director. Until we meet again, Arthur. Come and visit me sometime, I believe you will find quite a few things at my place very interesting. Oh, and remember to choose a time when Viscount Palmerston is not there, he doesn’t like his subordinates getting too chummy with people from other departments."

When Arthur heard this, he joked, "It seems you enjoy excitement, that doesn’t sound very German."

Schneider held up his forefinger and gently shook it, "Arthur, please note, I’ve long been a Briton. I went to that shop on Oxford Street last month. You know, the stress in our line of work is really too great, and sometimes you indeed need to release it."

Arthur immediately understood what Schneider meant; whether the German had become a Briton was uncertain, but he certainly had picked up a ’British vice.’

Arthur asked with a smile, "Mrs. Chalmers’s store, Mrs. Noë’s, Mrs. Jones’s, Mrs. Burgess’s, or Mrs. Pryce’s?"

"None of them."

Schneider said with a meaningful smile, "Although their services are quite acceptable, I still recommend Mrs. Berkeley the most. They have many new props designed by Mrs. Berkeley herself; every visit is quite an eye-opener. I also really appreciate their attention to detail: they soak the canes in water to keep them green and supple; the whips are colorful and come in all sorts of textures; during summer, they fill bottles with fresh nettles. London’s highest rates aren’t given for nothing."

Hearing this, Arthur laughed oddly, "Forgive me for being blunt, August, but Mrs. Berkeley’s items are outdated. I was once addicted to them too, but since I visited Mrs. Yvonne’s store a couple of days ago, I realized that what Mrs. Berkeley offered was all garbage."

"Mrs. Yvonne?"

Schneider pondered over the name. He paced unconsciously and sat back down in front of Arthur, "I’ve never heard of it. Is it a new store? There’s no guarantee of quality with new stores."

Arthur chuckled and said, "August, that’s a prejudice. New doesn’t necessarily mean worse, and old doesn’t necessarily mean better. Just take a look in the shop and you’ll see. The secret rooms there have been renovated to look like interrogation rooms. Iron rings for hanging people are suspended from the ceiling, and there are punishment benches to bend victims into all sorts of angles, almost identical to the ones we have at Scotland Yard. The tools for whipping include rattan, leather whips, holly branches, and birch rods. Of course, if you can take it, the cat-o’-nine-tails made out of bundled linen is also an option."

"Oh! My God!"

Schneider, excited, reached out to straighten his hat that was about to fall off: "Brother! Please don’t go on, I have to work this afternoon. After this conversation, I won’t be able to finish my work."

Arthur shrugged slightly and said, "However, as good as it is, there’s one thing, their prices are too high."

"How high is it?"

"You have to pay a pound to have two respectable ladies, heavily made up, elegant, educated blondes, whip you in a dignified and artistic manner in turns. After all, these days, if you want the ladies to pursue such a profession that goes against their gentle nature for the long term, you have to pay them a bit more materially."

Schneider took a deep breath: "A pound isn’t cheap, but if they are as outstanding as you describe, the price is not unacceptable. After all, I used to look in the newspaper and had to pay a couple of shillings..."

Arthur, who had been drinking tea, almost choked on his water when he heard this.

Fortunately, the lighting here was too dim, so Schneider did not notice his lapse.

Arthur coughed lightly and said, "You can find this in the newspapers?"

Schneider chuckled, the demeanor of the senior civil servant of the Foreign Office gone, as he imparted his wisdom to Arthur, a younger colleague in the same field.

"Of course, you can find them in the newspapers, and these ads have a rather long history. However, you need to have eyes as sharp as an eagle to spot them. Naturally, for us who work in intelligence, we are never short of such eyes."

Arthur, holding his teacup, asked seriously, "Could you be more specific?"

Schneider didn’t say a word but just pursed his lips at Arthur and tapped the table lightly.

Arthur, catching on, pulled out the business card Fiona had left him: "August, I hope you have fun."

Schneider, satisfied, pocketed the card and then began with a smile, "Actually, it’s not a secret. Our fellow enthusiasts mostly know how to find the right transaction partners in the newspapers. I first heard about it from Wilson at the Treasury. Do you know Wilson? He is the Assistant Undersecretary of the Treasury. You should interact more with him when you’re free; you could definitely get some information you want."

Arthur, thrilled with the unexpected gain, nodded continuously, "Looks like next time, we could invite him to join us."

"That’s up to you to arrange."

Schneider replied with a grin.

"Back to the newspaper, to be precise, if you see ads like ’Severe disciplinarian seeks suitable students,’ ’Woman fond of pets seeks pets to come to her playroom,’ or something like ’Madam So-and-So waiting for tame slaves to come forward and sign up,’ ’Personal uses traditional methods to correct bad habits,’ then you’re right on the mark. But let me advise you, those who work independently usually don’t have much skill. It’s fine for an occasional change, but if you want high-end craftsmanship, you need to visit a shop."

Arthur just pondered upon hearing this.

Schneider hadn’t realized until he spoke that London hid so many intelligence operatives waiting for employment.

In society, those who could easily shell out a couple of shillings for entertainment usually had a relatively high social status.

If the Police Intelligence Department could establish a good communication mechanism with these ladies who made a living with their craft and were enthusiastic about ’mad English,’ wouldn’t that make for a richer source of information?

The moment Arthur thought of this, he stood up, grasped Schneider’s hand, and with a full-faced smile, said, "August, I really learned a lot from you today."