The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 166 - 166 120 Unorganized Crime

166: Chapter 120 Unorganized Crime 166: Chapter 120 Unorganized Crime In the swaying carriage, Arthur held a box containing a phonograph in his arms.

In his hands, he held a circular disc made of tin, wax, and wood that had just been recorded.

This disc was far from as valuable and refined as the collectible vinyl records that would sell for thousands apiece in later times, but its lifespan was shockingly short in an unusual way.

According to Wheatstone’s estimate, this makeshift disc he had produced could likely only be played around twenty times before its sound quality was no longer guaranteed.

Although he was confident that he could make a better one, it was certainly too late to show it off at Sunday’s dinner party.

Still, even such a crudely made rush job was enough to surprise Arthur.

After all, he had originally thought it would be quite an achievement if Wheatstone could even get a rudimentary version of the phonograph working within a single week.

But he had clearly underestimated Charles Wheatstone’s expertise in acoustics and the inventive prowess and hands-on ability of this British young scientist, born into a family of instrument-makers, to combine the new invention with musical instruments.

Eld, who sat opposite him, was still immersed in the shock he had felt when the phonograph played the piano music for the first time.

“This…

this is truly a great invention!

To be able to seal a person’s voice, my God, I always thought perhaps only God could accomplish such a feat.”

Eld muttered, “With this phonograph, I’m afraid musicians may be out of a job from now on.”

Arthur replied, “You’d be better off worrying about your next sea training than the plight of musicians.”

Eld raised an eyebrow, “Arthur, speaking of which, I know you appreciate art, but what I didn’t know was that you bloody well can play the piano.

When did you learn that?”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil sitting by the carriage window.

Agares had somehow procured a fitting black tailcoat for himself and was humming a tune with his eyes closed, his arms moving as though cracking a whip—as if he weren’t sitting at the window of the carriage but standing in Vienna’s Golden Hall.

Arthur sighed, “Would you believe me if I said I just learned?”

Eld, full of disbelief, retorted, “Come on, Arthur, if you just learned and can play to that level, it could only mean your musical talent is unparalleled.

Instead of spending a fortune to go to Vienna for Beethoven to compose ‘The Victory of Wellington’ in remembrance of the victory of the Battle of Vitoria, they should have just gone to the countryside of Yorkshire to find you.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, “That wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

Arthur began, “Because playing the piano is far too life-consuming.

Eld, the Battle of Vitoria was in 1813, I was 3 years old at the time, and a three-year-old child couldn’t possibly manage such a big business.”

Eld curled his lip, “Doesn’t everything require some effort?

But it seems that not becoming a musician isn’t such a big deal after all.

Young as you are, you’re a police superintendent at Scotland Yard, living in a six-bedroom, two-living-room house next to Hyde Park, and even General Cordington’s party requires your presence.

By comparison, ordinary 20-year-old musicians don’t seem to fare well against you.”

As Eld spoke, he took up his pipe and crossed his legs nonchalantly, starting to take an interest in Arthur’s love life.

“At the age of 20, marriage might be a bit early, but you should seriously consider it.

If you could climb the ladder by marrying a young lady from a wealthy and noble family, you might be able to soar to great heights taking advantage of her family’s momentum.”

Listening to this, Arthur teasingly said, “Eld, that doesn’t sound like you at all.

Didn’t you always talk about making it on your own?

It’s only been a little over a year, and your life’s plan has turned upside down.

It’s one thing for you to ‘awaken your Royal Navy bloodline,’ but now you’re even planning to pick a partner who has both wealth and background?”

Eld didn’t care about these particulars.

He said, “Arthur, you don’t understand, when there’s an opportunity to seize, you seize it.

You’ve solved so many major cases at Scotland Yard.

If someone with the same accomplishments were a nobleman, he might have already transferred to the Home Office.

But you’re still at Scotland Yard, what does that tell you?

It shows you lack background.

Besides, even if you don’t like it, you can still play the game.

In the social circles of London, there are plenty who’ve advanced their careers and fortunes by playing this game.”

Seeing his ‘you’re young, don’t be too young’ expression, Arthur went along and asked, “Are these the games that London’s high society plays?”

Sure enough, Eld lit up at the question.

He whispered, “Now you’re asking the right person.

Tell me, do you know about Admiral Nelson’s mistress—Emma Hart, Lady Hamilton?”

At the mention of this name, Arthur felt it was somewhat familiar; it seemed the Red Devil had mentioned her before: “I’ve only heard a little about her.”

Eld’s interest peaked upon realizing Arthur’s lack of knowledge, and he began enthusiastically explaining.

“Lady Hamilton was indeed one of the legends in London’s high society.

Lady Hamilton originally was just an ordinary commoner; her father was a blacksmith, and her mother was a maid.

She herself used to do odd jobs such as cleaning and nannying, and she was even nearly deceived by a man into becoming a prostitute.”

“However, her fate took a turn for the better when she met Lord Charles Greville.

Lord Greville took a fancy to her beauty and brought her home.

He taught her the dress and manners of high society and even arranged for her to receive education in literature and the arts.”

“Under the cultivation of Lord Greville, Emma Hart made her debut at a social gathering and became an instant sensation.

Before long, she was recognized as ‘Britain’s most beautiful woman’ by the circle.”

“Just when everyone thought Emma Hart would end up with Lord Greville, sir shockingly transferred her to his own uncle, Sir William Hamilton, to repay his own hefty debts, and Emma naturally became Lady Hamilton.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur frowned and said, “But how did she get involved with General Nelson?”

Eld replied, “That was because Sir Hamilton was appointed the British Envoy to Naples at the time, and Emma naturally accompanied him there.

She skillfully employed the social tactics she had learned in London and quickly became the darling of Naples’ high society.”

“Meanwhile, after the General Nelson had just defeated the French Navy at the Nile Delta in Egypt and had been promoted to Commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, the two met in Naples and fell in love at first sight.

Their relationship progressed rapidly.

Far from holding them accountable, Sir Hamilton was quite generous and even returned to London with the two of them.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but twitch, “Are you sure?

I know that having mistresses isn’t uncommon at this time, but to bring such behavior into the open, I doubt many Britons could accept it.”

“After all, our recently deceased King George IV faced constant attacks from public opinion just for wanting a divorce, and even members of parliament spoke out in support of Queen Caroline.”

“Even if Sir Hamilton didn’t mind, didn’t the newspapers in London attack Nelson and Emma?”

Eld disdainfully said, “If it were anyone else, they’d be trampled into the mud.

But that’s the soul of the Royal Navy, Horatio Nelson!

If Nelson were still alive, not even the Duke of Wellington could confidently outshine him.

What could our former His Majesty the King have over him?”

Arthur asked, “What about after the Battle of Trafalgar?

Without Nelson, Lady Hamilton’s fate couldn’t have been too good.”

Eld nodded and said, “You’ve guessed correctly.

Before the Battle of Trafalgar, General Nelson could still be considered human.

But after his death at Trafalgar, he had become a symbol of British heroism.

Such a hero obviously couldn’t be tainted by any scandal, so for the sake of Nelson’s reputation, Lady Hamilton was quickly abandoned by London’s social circles.

Everyone treated her as if she were air, and her name and past became a taboo subject that could not be mentioned.”

Arthur asked, “Isn’t that a case of failure?

Why bring her up to me?”

“There are successful ones!”

Eld opened his mouth to say, “The most typical example of female success is Harriette Wilson, who made a fortune through her relationships with a variety of men in high society.

Even after she retired, she continued to serialize her past romances in the newspapers.”

“Whenever her former lovers didn’t pay up, she would expose their names and peculiarities in her memoirs.

If they paid adequately, she’d even sing their praises.”

“In recent years, the most successful male example is none other than Viscount Palmerston Henry Temple.

Although there’s no conclusive evidence, many say that Viscount Palmerston had affairs with at least three of the seven main patrons of Almack’s Club.”

“If it weren’t for the strong support of these ladies, Viscount Palmerston could never have been as successful in social and political circles, nor could he have been so readily accepted by the Whig Party after parting ways with the Tory Party.”

Arthur was already familiar with the great name of ‘Almack’s Club,’ and as for the title of ‘Viscount Palmerston,’ that was written in textbooks, making it impossible not to learn about.

Now intrigued, he asked, “Could you tell me the details of the story?

About the seven female patrons of Almack’s Club, or perhaps about Palmerston.”

Eld, thinking Arthur had finally seen the light, patted Arthur’s shoulder with satisfaction, “Arthur, you’ve finally understood.

To become a significant figure, relying on oneself is not enough.”

“Of course,” Arthur said with a smile, patting the case he held in his arms, “Relying on oneself is definitely not enough; I also have to rely on recordings.”

Eld was perplexed by his comment, “Recordings?

What are you planning to do?”

“Nothing in particular.”

Arthur smiled and replied, “Eld, you surely don’t think that the invention of the phonograph was just to handle a dinner party or to listen to a piece of music, do you?

If possible, I hope it can become a powerful tool for Scotland Yard, or even LPS, to combat organized crime.”

Eld was startled by Arthur’s idea, “Arthur, you’re not treating the Whig and Tory members of parliament as if they’re involved in organized crime, are you?”

At the question, Arthur simply shrugged and replied with a smile, “Eld, our duties also include fighting unorganized crime.”

As the carriage carrying Arthur and Eld moved off into the distance, Charles Wheatstone stood in front of the shop, lingering for a long time without leaving.

The sun shone on Wheatstone’s face as he held his sweaty brow in disbelief, “My God!

What on earth was that Mr.

Hastings playing just now?”