Chapter 607: Dedication to Colonel Hastingoff
Tsar Nicholas I visited various parts of Russia and often encountered situations where he needed to pay allegiance to the emperor.
Once, when a local official met the Tsar, the Tsar asked him: "How can you prove your loyalty to me?"
The official replied without hesitation: "Your Majesty, I will erect a statue in honor of your merits."
The Tsar was puzzled: "A statue? But I haven't done anything memorable yet."
The official smiled proudly: "Your Majesty, what you just said is the best proof of my loyalty!"
——Alexander Ivanovich Herzen, London, 1853, political satire column in "Free Rossiya"
The police chief sat carefully at the table, his hands trembling slightly, and his eyes glanced at Arthur from time to time, for fear of doing something wrong.
His back was tense, as if he was sitting next to a pressure cooker that might explode at any moment.
The atmosphere in the small hotel was even more depressing than usual, and the surrounding air seemed to be solidified. Only the plate of smoked salmon on the table still exuded a strong smoky smell.
Arthur was devouring this simple but rare meal. His appetite had already been tortured by the bad weather for several days and his shy wallet. The cold weather and lack of food caused him to hardly eat seriously in this small hotel. A decent meal.
The appearance of that piece of smoked salmon didn’t look particularly eye-catching. Its color is slightly monotonous. The orange-red fish meat is covered with a thin layer of slightly yellowish skin, and the edges are slightly dry and hard.
Everything is done gently, with a hint of crispness, the fish meat is firm but not dry, and the surface exudes a faint smell of firewood that fills the air.
Although the cuts are not exquisite and even have some irregular shapes, under the dim kerosene light, the texture of the fish meat still outlines a simple beauty.
Arthur gently cut off a small piece with a knife and fork and put it in his mouth. The moment the tip of his tongue touched the fish meat, it seemed to be filled with the warmth of the winter sun shining through the mist. Although the smell was simple, it immediately gave him a long-lost sense of satisfaction.
Every bite of fish meat was chewed, and the delicate fiber texture was intertwined with the aroma of smoke, as if it was giving back to his hungry body and mind for the past few days.
The police chief was restless, swallowing his saliva from time to time because of nervousness, but did not dare to look at Arthur too much.
He secretly observed Arthur's every move, and every time Arthur put down his knife and fork, his heart would beat faster, for fear that he would miss some tiny detail and cause the "imperial minister" to be dissatisfied with him.
Whenever Arthur glanced at him casually, the director immediately lowered his head with a smile on his face and a respectful expression.
Arthur only focused on enjoying the delicious food. Occasionally he raised his eyes and glanced at the director's face, and found that the other person's face was a little pale, and beads of sweat fell from his forehead unconsciously.
Arthur twitched the corner of his mouth, laughing secretly in his heart.
Even when he was one person outnumbered by ten thousand at Scotland Yard, his police officers were not afraid of him like this.
Rao is a slippery loach like Ledley, and his attitude toward him is, at best, overly flattering due to his desire for progress.
As for fear...
Ridley had done quite a lot of bad things, but he was not afraid to look into Arthur's eyes.
Obviously according to the Russian official ranking list, the sixth-grade military police colonel is not as high as Arthur's original position.
But when it comes to being addicted to official positions, the official authority of the Russian sixth-rank officer is much greater than that of the British fourth-rank officer.
Arthur filled his stomach, contentedly picked up the white napkin just cut by the shopkeeper and wiped his greasy mouth, and suddenly asked: "Skolnikov, how much salary do you get every year?"
"Ah...I..."
The police chief was frightened by Arthur: "You are really kidding. Vitebsk is just a first-class province, not comparable to second-class provinces like Petersburg, Courland, and Lithuania. I am a small police chief, It is said that Po Datian is just a ninth-grade official, and he is satisfied with a dead salary of 250 rubles a year. "
250 rubles?
Arthur calculated in his mind that even if the 250 rubles were all issued in silver rubles, it would still be less than 30 pounds when converted into pounds. This salary was not even as much as the laborers who carried the big bags at the West India dock.
With such a small salary, but living such a life, anyone who dares to say that this guy has not taken bribes must be crazy.
Arthur gently put down his napkin, with a faint smile on his lips, and stared at the police chief in front of him.
Every smile of the British "old stage actor" can be used as a textbook in London's West End theaters. Just the faint disdain in that smile is enough for London's young actors to learn for ten or twenty years.
"Two hundred and fifty rubles, Skolnikov. Your salary is really meager. Doesn't the province give you some living allowance?"
The police chief's face became paler. He lowered his head slightly subconsciously, and his fingertips began to tremble slightly: "Well, there are some living allowances. But Druisk is a small place after all, and it's not like a provincial department. Deyue. I heard Most of the ninth-rank officials in the province can live in official housing. Those who cannot live in it temporarily are also given an accommodation subsidy of 160 rubles per year. But here, although I heard that there is a housing subsidy, I have been here for eight or nine years. It’s been years and I’ve never seen this money.”
Arthur held up the tea cup and took a sip of hot tea. He imitated the old squire's way of bullying the small shopkeeper and spoke in an official tone: "This kind of problem does occur in the local area, but you have to understand the difficulties above. If you have money, it's not I won’t pay you, but the country’s money is tight, so I can only owe it first. As an official of His Majesty the Tsar, in this difficult time, everyone has to tighten their belts and live a tight life. Skolnikov, you. You have to start from the overall situation!”
"That's nature, that's nature!"
The police chief echoed: "Being a family member means you don't know how expensive food and salt are. I, Skolnikov, have been an official for one term and been in charge of government. I can understand these difficulties. You see, although this housing subsidy has never been paid, But I have never complained at all. If I have this money, it is a great blessing from His Majesty the Tsar. If I don’t have it, it is also deserved.”
After saying that, the police chief asked cautiously: "For a small official like me, it is necessary to work hard and be tired. The reason for working hard and tired is to do a good job with all your heart and to have hope for the future." . I went to the provincial capital for work before, and I heard that the provincial prosecutor at the same level as you has an annual salary of 600 rubles. In addition, there is an annual housing subsidy and food subsidy of 550 rubles. Of course, this is all rumored by the people below. In fact, it shouldn’t be that high, right?”
If the police chief asked something else, Arthur might not really know.
But when it comes to the salary income of Russian officials, York financial enthusiasts who went to London University have studied it in depth.
Moreover, he had resources like Shubinski around him. Whether it was literature or acquaintances, Arthur had a clear grasp of them all.
A provincial prosecutor in a first-class province with an annual income of less than 1,200 rubles can make the police chief jealous...
If he were told that the Russian ambassador to the UK has an annual salary of up to 45,000 rubles, and in addition has a rent subsidy of 2,000 rubles, that would be great!
Arthur put on the arrogance of a big city: "The annual salary plus subsidies is only 1,150 rubles. A first-class province is a first-class province. Although I don't know how much prosecutors in Petersburg and Moscow earn per year, but I have a man who works in IL An old acquaintance of the Kutsk Provincial Tax Bureau, he is also a sixth-rank official, with a fixed annual salary of 750 rubles and an additional annual allowance of 1,200 rubles.”
A trace of unconcealed jealousy and longing flashed in the police chief's eyes, and he asked hesitantly: "Colonel, this acquaintance you are talking about, does he really have so many extra subsidies?"
Arthur smiled slightly, put down the tea cup, and wiped the corners of his mouth leisurely: "For those who work in the financial department, the closer to the money, the more benefits there are in all aspects. Not to mention you, even me, after hearing this from him Income, I wish I could find out what he did wrong. Exile him to Siberia. Oh, no, Irkutsk is already Siberia. This Bastard (German, literal translation: bastard, illegitimate son, honest translation: maid, son of a bitch), he is. Don’t be afraid of this magic weapon of mine.”
The police chief smiled in front of the yes-man: "Oh! Otherwise, everyone is looking forward to going to the provincial ministry or to work in a bigger place."
Unexpectedly, Arthur frowned after hearing this: "That's wrong. You said that there are benefits to serving in the province. I won't pick on you. But you said that there are benefits to working in the ministry. Then I have to talk about it properly."
With these words of Arthur, he unknowingly revealed the news that "I am working in the ministry" to the police chief. Even he himself was not aware of this, but he was eager to hear about Peter. The secrets of various departments in the fort: "You...you can teach me."
Arthur snorted: "I don't understand the benefits of working in the ministry. There is no financial resources at all. If you are in the provincial government, the Civil Affairs Department and the tax bureau, the situation is completely different. Over there, you will see a person Hiding in a far corner, scribbling something. The tuxedo he was wearing was extremely dirty, that one. His face makes people spit, but when he gets off work, you see what a beautiful villa such a lowly person lives! If you give him a set of gold-plated porcelain tea cups, he won't even look down on it. ! If you bring these things to see him, he will definitely say: "This kind of gift is only given to doctors."
You must give him a pair of fine horses, or a spring carriage, or a beaver skin worth three hundred rubles. Don't look at such a person who speaks softly and slowly: "Please lend me your sword to sharpen my pen." ’ But secretly, he would strip the applicant down to his shirt. Yes, on the surface, everyone is Qingshui Yamen, and everything is clear. But if this is the case, the provincial government will never dream of having a mahogany table in its lifetime, and the chiefs of various departments will have to call you when they meet. Really, I have to admit, this situation is really annoying to me. If it weren't for the fact that my position is noble and respected, I would have resigned long ago. "
Having said this, Arthur picked up the tea cup and looked around: "In the final analysis, although Druisk is small, it is local after all. You here can be regarded as a small provincial government, right? In my opinion, take the cavalry colonel of Petersburg If I replace you with the police chief of Druisk, you may not be able to replace him!"
Arthur's words were full of criticism, and every sentence was full of yin and yang, but the police chief did not dare to return a word.
He suddenly began to complain about his old father-in-law in his heart. The imperial envoy sent by Petersburg was indeed not something that a player of his level could handle easily.
He doesn't look like a young man in his twenties or sixties. He is simply more difficult to serve than those old bureaucrats in their fifties and sixties!
The white fox on the snowfield and the beaver in the river dam are both more powerful than him!
The police chief was at a loss for words and spoke in a cold sweat: "Come...Colonel, you are really joking. Even if ten of us were piled together, I wouldn't be able to compare to you, the colonel! By the way, you...your... Does the meal taste good? If there is anything wrong, just tell me and I will prepare something else..."
His words were obviously flattering and cautious, as if he was begging Arthur for forgiveness.
Seeing that he wanted to run away, Arthur reached out and grabbed his sleeve, and read the poem with a smile.
"Feasts all over the world! Sometimes in the evening,
Wine was poured and dishes were roiling over the fire.
The laughter, the words, the singing – it’s all wonderful!
However, the next morning, the day was poisoned. "
When the police chief heard this poem, he was so frightened that he almost flew out of the sky.
He had never learned a few poems in his life, and he didn't like literary things, but Pushkin's "Drinking Banquet" happened to be one of the few poems he knew.
The reason is simple - this poem was banned in Russia.
As one of the heads of the agency responsible for enforcing the ban, he, the police chief, naturally had to learn which poems were not allowed to appear in this land of ice and snow.
The police chief's heart skipped a beat, his face quickly turned from pale to reddish, and the cold sweat on his forehead quickly gathered.
Although he did not understand the deep meaning of the poem, he knew that the appearance of this poem meant an ominous omen.
His eyes lowered involuntarily, his face became stiff, and his mouth opened slightly, but he could not utter a single word.
Arthur noticed the police chief's reaction. He did not press him immediately, but leisurely picked up the tea cup and took a slow sip.
The senior British spy knew that he had won an overwhelming victory in today's psychological battle.
In this unequal war, the head of the Druisk Police Department, Ren Feng, has been completely suppressed by the third boss of the Royal Metropolitan Police.
"Don't be afraid, Mr. Skolnikov."
Arthur easily and casually took out the pipe from the police chief's jacket pocket and struck a match. A burst of sparks flew by. He flicked it and extinguished the fire.
As the smoke rose, Arthur breathed a long sigh of relief and inserted the matchbox into the police chief's pocket: "This is an old habit of mine. I just want to verify whether you are a Decembrist or not. The association is involved. Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you that I used to be responsible for spying on Pushkin at the country retreat in Mikhailovskoye.”
The police chief went into cardiac arrest.
This guy…
This guy...
This guy is not just a military policeman in the third game!
And he must be the absolute elite among the military police!
The kind of rising star who is most favored by His Majesty the Tsar and the top management of the third game!
He is like the poisonous snake that tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden!
And this snake was now wrapped around his neck, its body shrinking tighter and tighter until he could no longer breathe!
"You...you are right, Pushkin's poems...are indeed 'special'."
The police chief stuttered in reply, his voice trembling slightly. Although he tried to stay calm, he could not hide the panic inside.
What on earth does he want to do?
Does he want money, or does he want to step on every human life and move up a level?
Arthur chuckled and stood up from the table. He walked around behind the police chief, suddenly leaned down, pressed his two plier-like hands on his shoulders, and whispered in a low voice: "Skolnik Husband, you are so smart. Look, I know what you are thinking. You may have already confused me and me. 'They' made a comparison. You must know that people like me often don't stick to trivial matters and don't bother to confront each other. You are just a local official. How could you know in Druisk? How 'unknown' is the 'method' in the third game? ? Of course, it's better that you don't have the chance to know those. But you have to understand that whether you have the chance to know those means does not depend on you, but on me. One word can make you go to heaven. Let you go to hell, but don't think about staying in this world. After you come to me, you will no longer have that chance. One step forward will lead to a world of destruction, and one step back will lead to shattering. Are you a smart person? Anyway, you are not stupid. Skolnikov, you cannot afford to be disappointed."
There was no impatience in Arthur's words, but a kind of provocation and discipline with ease.
The police chief swallowed, his body shaking uncontrollably.
Not long after, he seemed to have made a great determination, stood up like a spring, saluted Arthur: "Whether I am smart or not is not something I can decide personally. It depends on you. You need me to be smart. I am as smart as Aristotle, and you need me to be stupid. My brain can leak like a sieve and forget everything. But whether I am smart or stupid, I will always be the most loyal to you. of."
"Very good." Arthur let go of his hand on the director's shoulder with satisfaction: "Then, now I need you to show your loyalty to me for the first time."
"As you command!"
"Please settle the bill for my stay at the hotel for the past few days. I have to pay double the amount. I always do things with dignity."
"Ah..." The police chief's calves felt weak and he almost fell to his knees.
He was mentally prepared to lick Arthur's boots. However, what he didn't expect was that the loyalty test was just a trivial matter like checking out.
Arthur's smile that just appeared suddenly turned cold: "Do you have any objections?"
"No, of course not!" The police chief quickly ran to the shop owner: "How much money did the colonel spend on staying in the hotel? Please count it up and send the bill to the police station before get off work today. If someone asks you who asked you to come, Just say I asked you to go, do you hear me clearly?"
The shopkeeper covered his forehead. If it hadn't been for the cold weather, he would have thought he had a fever today.
Skolnikov, that son of a bitch, has started giving money. How new is this!
The shop owner excitedly held the police chief's hand and thanked him profusely: "Thank you, sir! I'll do the statistics right away according to your instructions and send them over later!"
The police chief's eyes widened, and he moved half of his body to reveal Arthur who was sitting at the table behind him: "Why are you thanking me? You bastard! You should first thank Mr. Colonel for taking care of your business!"
The little innkeeper was about to thank Arthur, but before he could say anything, the door of the hotel was pushed open again, and the cold wind poured into the hotel, bringing snow and wind all over the ground.
The mayor, wearing a gorgeous silver dress, led a group of Druisk dignitaries into the hotel and asked the shopkeeper angrily: "Do you have a tenant here who has stayed for five days and five nights?" ?”