The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 120 - 120 80 What Else Do You Gain

120: Chapter 80 What Else Do You Gain?

120: Chapter 80 What Else Do You Gain?

At dusk, outside the row houses on the outskirts of London, Inspector Clemens, with scabs on his right cheek, stood in the drizzle, holding a gift in front of the ornate iron gate.

Although this was not his first time at this location, it was the first time he felt so nervous.

He flashed a compensatory smile at the gatekeeper and said, “Do you remember me?”

The servant scrutinized him carefully and nodded with a smile, “Of course, Inspector Clemens.

Are you passing by today, or have you come specifically to visit Viscount?

I recall the Viscount did not inform me of your visit today.”

Clemens forced a smile, then pulled out his wallet from his pocket and handed over both a banknote and the gift.

“I know Viscount Palmeston is always busy, but please inform him now that I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”

The servant accepted the gift and tucked the banknote into his pocket, giving a slight nod, “Please wait a moment.”

As Clemens watched the servant’s retreating figure, he let out a breath.

He reached into his pocket for his pipe, wanting to take a few puffs, but when he opened the matchbox, he found it empty.

Clutching the matchbox, he closed his eyes tightly, tilted his head up against the drizzle, and cursed under his breath, “Bad luck!”

He felt chilly from head to toe, unsure whether it was due to excessive blood loss or his utterly dismal mood.

Fortunately, the servant did not leave him waiting in the rain for long; soon, he could hear the servant’s voice beside him.

“Mr.

Clemens, the Viscount invites you in.”

Clemens opened his eyes and asked the servant with a forced smile, “How is the Viscount feeling now?”

The servant smiled slightly, “He has been in a very good mood these past few days, probably because most matters have been going very smoothly for him.”

Clemens sighed with relief internally, nodded, and followed the servant into the living room.

The living room’s decor was still the same as last time, with the sole difference perhaps being that the deer head specimen on the wall had been replaced with a framed painting.

The frame did not contain any high-quality oil painting but a satirical cartoon cut from a newspaper.

The artwork’s skill was not particularly impressive, but the content was memorable.

It depicted endless railway tracks stretching to the sky, with the Duke of Wellington riding on the locomotive and a coffin labeled ‘William Hesketh’ in the carriage.

Below the cartoon, its title was noted—The Duke of Wellington’s Express Delivery to God.

This was likely the major reason for Palmeston’s recent good mood and the important reason Clemens had to visit him today.

Clemens stared at the cartoon, lost in thought, until Palmeston’s voice sounded behind him.

“This style of drawing is quite crude, but I have to admit, it often takes such simple and understandable forms to stir the underdeveloped minds of the public, incidentally triggering their rich and somewhat extreme emotions.”

Palmeston, dressed formally and wearing a bow tie, glanced at the wall clock, took off his hat, and placed it on the coffee table, then leaned back into the sofa, “Have a seat, and speak your mind quickly; I have to attend a banquet shortly.”

Clemens sat upright on the sofa, smiling tentatively, “It seems you are already aware of the incident during the Manchester-Liverpool railway inauguration ceremony.”

Palmeston picked up a teacup and nodded, “News is flying all over; I couldn’t avoid it even if I wanted to.

Mr.

Hesketh is indeed unfortunate.

Although I am not fond of him, a man of his caliber really didn’t deserve such an end.”

Clemens, upon hearing this, hesitated for a long while before steeling himself and finally spoke, “I… I actually deliberately did not remind Mr.

Hesketh, and, to tell the truth, his death is somewhat related to me.

I know you’ve always been worried about Hesketh’s faction rejoining the Duke of Wellington, so…”

As soon as Palmeston heard this, he interrupted, “Clemens, do you realize what you are saying?

Mr.

Hesketh’s death was an accident, at most involving negligence by the railway company and Scotland Yard.

What does that have to do with me?

Are you suggesting that I deliberately planned to murder a leader of the House of Commons, a former Secretary of State?”

“No, no, no,” Clemens hastily denied, “Of course, this has nothing to do with you; you have always held a good reputation.

It’s just that I encountered a small problem, so…”

Palmeston stared at him for a long while before nodding slightly, then reprimanded him.

“If you have a problem, just state the problem, why bring up other matters?

Clemens, this dilly-dallying is unlike you.

Do you know why I liked using you when I was in the Army?

It was because you were factual, firmly executing all commands without any superfluous thoughts.”

Clemens broke into a sweat and began, “You are right, this is my fault, please forgive me.”

Palmerston shifted his gaze from his face and leaned back on the sofa, sipping his tea lightly, “Alright, speak now about the problem.”

Gathering his courage, Clemens said, “To be frank, in the process of fulfilling your task, I might have pushed Fred too hard.

He wrote some of my matters into a denunciation letter and submitted it to Scotland Yard.

Minister Rowan, because of both the train accident and this letter, flew into a rage, so now he is pressing me to resign voluntarily.”

Upon hearing this, Palmerston took a deep breath, rubbed his face, and asked, “Clemens, I didn’t bring up Fred first, how dare you?

I asked you to ensure that Fred safely returned that Frenchman to Paris, where was your effort?”

“I…”

Clemens, his back drenched in sweat, retorted, “Viscount, the matter is complicated.

I had planned to supervise this personally, but you didn’t know, I was suddenly assigned to Manchester the night before the action to take charge of the inauguration ceremony.

And even if I didn’t settle Fred’s matter, at least I made some effort regarding Mr.

Hesketh…”

Palmerston, slapping the coffee table and scoffing, pointed righteously at Clemens, “If you truly are involved with Mr.

Hesketh’s death, then I suggest you surrender yourself to Scotland Yard quickly.

A prominent politician’s life is not a trifling matter!”

What about Fred’s matter…”

“What does Fred’s matter have to do with me?” Palmerston asked with a smile, “Clemens, have you forgotten what I told you the last time we met?

There are no eternal friends, only eternal interests.

Do I have any interest in Fred’s affair?”

“But you previously requested me to ensure Fred would return that Frenchman…”

“Oh!

Is that so?

I don’t remember such a thing.

Clemens you are a superintendent at Scotland Yard, you should know, handling cases is all about evidence.

Moreover, did Fred return the Frenchman?

He didn’t even bring the man back, and he himself died on the high seas.

Are you planning to drag his body to court?”

“I…”

Upon hearing this, Clemens’s clenched fists tightened suddenly, “So, you’re not willing to protect me?”

Palmerston replied, “Not just for me, but for everyone, the only criterion to protect someone is their significance, not the tasks they once intended but failed to complete.

Clemens, if you want to protect yourself, the best way is to enhance your own value.

Besides, I can’t intervene in Scotland Yard’s affairs.

Remember, although I still have many old acquaintances in the Tory party, at the end of the day I am now an opposition Whig party member.”

Clemens, upon hearing this, understood Palmerston’s stance.

He didn’t want to argue further, but instead stood up and bid Palmerston farewell.

“Then, goodbye, Viscount.

I hope you enjoy your party tonight.”

As Clemens turned to leave, he found Palmerton’s hand on his shoulder.

Palmerston, smiling, stepped in front of him, “Taylor, don’t be upset right away.

When there’s trouble, someone has to take responsibility.

If you go against Minister Rowan, it probably won’t end well.

A superintendent at Scotland Yard, there’s nothing to cling to.

Take a good rest at home, a few months or maybe a year.

I guarantee, when the Whig Party rises, I will still fulfill my promise and transfer you to the Ordnance Department.

This time for introspection on your tenure at Scotland Yard will benefit your future development.”

At these words, Clemens turned and asked, “Are you serious?

Do you still have any interest in me?”

Palmerston smiled, “It’s not much of an interest, just a bit of old sentiment.

After all, you did make an effort for me during the Peterloo affair.

You aren’t without skills, just lacking a bit in thoroughness, so I will definitely have use for you in the future.”

Hearing this, Clemens fell silent for a moment and then slowly nodded.

“Good, I trust you.

This time, let Rowan think he has won a round; I will submit my resignation.”

At this, Palmerston slowly shook his head, “How could Rowan win a round against you?

Even if you resign, the vacant position won’t fall into the hands of his men!”

“What do you mean?”

Palmerston picked up a newspaper from the table and threw it into Clemens’s hands.

He spoke blandly, “The most outstanding figure this time is a protege cultivated by Peel.

His methods are the same as the way I used to cultivate you.”