The Shadow of Great Britain

Since it was still early and the jurors had not yet arrived, Arthur did not take his seat immediately upon entering the Magistrates' Court, but walked straight ahead along the carpet instead.

At the end of the corridor was a dim and poorly lit stone staircase, and down the stairs was a narrow holding room for the temporary confinement of prisoners.

The court officer in charge of watching over the prisoners was already familiar with Arthur; he greeted him as usual.

"Hey, isn't that Arthur? Are you representing Scotland Yard in court today again? They may as well just station you in the courtroom permanently, why bother asking you to come over every time there's a prisoner?"

Arthur replied with a smile and a nod, "I'm not keen on taking up this job either. But I have no choice, we are short-staffed at the unit, one person has to do the job of two. You know, both the resignation and dismissal rates are high on our side. Of the rookies who joined with me last year, only a third are left."

The court officer also sighed, "Life is tough for everyone. So, are you here for a temporary interrogation of a criminal? Which one are you looking for?"

"A kid, named Adam Evans. There were some details we didn't clear up before, so we need to verify them again."

"You sure are meticulous, brother! Let me see, Adam Evans... he's in room 4, need me to show you the way?"

"I've been here so many times now, even if I were as dumb as a mule, I should remember where it is."

On hearing this, the court officer laughed heartily. He took a fist-sized bunch of keys from the hook on the wall and tossed it to Arthur.

"Then help yourself."

Arthur, familiar with the place, made his way to holding room number four.

He inserted the key and opened the heavy iron door, a piercing ray of light shot through the black bars of the skylight, illuminating the dancing dust particles clearly visible in the beam.

In this narrow space, less than half a meter long, there was only a wooden plank chained to the wall serving as a seat.

Little Adam, wearing a faded coarse cloth shirt, sat quietly in the corner on the wooden plank. His small hands gripped the cold iron chains tightly, and his frail body leaned against the mossy bricks of the wall, seemingly trying to sit more securely.

He heard the sound of the iron door opening, and his vacant eyes met Arthur's face.

"Mr. Hastings?"

Arthur closed the iron door behind him and put a finger to his lips, "Shh! Keep it down, just call me Arthur."

Adam could not help but become excited, with his little face flushed; even though he tried to lower his voice, the joy in his tone was easily perceptible.

"It's really you! So it looks like they're about to start my trial, right? I'll get to live in prison without paying for food and lodging!"

Arthur looked at Adam's innocent face, about to tell him the harsh truth.

But before he could speak, Agares's figure appeared once more.

Unfortunately, due to the cramped space of the holding room, only Agares's face could squeeze through the bars of the iron window.

The Red Devil had both hands on the edges of the bars, struggling to force his head out while bellowing.

"Damn it! What the hell is this place? Our prison cells in Hell are more spacious than this! Arthur, can't you go somewhere people are supposed to go?"

Arthur chose to ignore Agares's complaint and spoke to Adam, "Do you realize the magnitude of the trouble you've caused this time?"

"Of course, I do," Adam jumped down from the wooden plank, thumping his chest proudly. "I spotted at a glance that umbrella was valuable, otherwise I wouldn't have stolen it. This time I'm sure to be sentenced to ten or eight years, and once I get out of prison, I'll be a strong young man. When I go to work in the factory then, that greedy factory owner won't dare to pay me just half a wage—I'll demand a grown man's pay."

A surge of sadness overcame Arthur, and he patted Adam on the head.

"I'm glad that you went to prison with such a noble goal in mind. But Adam, I have to tell you bad news. This time, you might be sentenced to death."

"Death penalty?"

The word struck the recently joyful Adam, draining all color from his face.

His lips trembling, he asked, "Sir, are you really not trying to scare me?"

Arthur replied with solemn seriousness, "I seldom scare people, and I never scare children. And given the relationship between the two of us, do you think I would lie to you?"

Little Adam was silent for a good while before he slowly started to speak, "Most of the police are bad people. They hit my head with sticks, call me a little bastard, a little villain, and that police chief with the hooked nose would even kick me in the behind when he sees me.

But you and Officer Tom, you two are good people.

You gave me a shilling and talked with me.

Officer Tom took me to his home for a meal. Officer Tom's wife is a kind lady too; she mended my torn trousers.

And yes, she also walked me home, but I don't blame her for that because she didn't know that my parents didn't want to see me at home."

At this point, Arthur finally understood what Mrs. Tom's dreams were about.

Perhaps she simply wanted to save little Adam, or maybe she hoped to accrue some good karma for her unborn child.

But what she hadn't expected was that her act of kindness almost drove her own husband insane.

Seeing that Arthur had been quiet for a long time, little Adam cautiously asked, "Sir, if I don't want to die, what should I do now?"

Arthur saw that he was beginning to understand fear and felt half his worries subside.

He consoled, "As long as you do as I say, everything will be all right.

Remember, when the court convenes later, you must first greet the judge and the ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

Although I will defend you with all I have, the final decision isn't in my hands; the outcome will largely depend on their impression of you.

So, it's crucial that you leave a good first impression on them, which is vital for the final verdict."

Little Adam nodded slightly, "Is there anything else I need to do?"

"If the Magistrate says something outrageous to you, don't argue back, don't talk back, and don't lose your temper just because you've been wronged. You must sincerely admit your mistakes and show a positive attitude towards confession.

Besides that, don't say anything else. If the judge asks you questions and requires an answer, just repeat the confessions and reiterate what I've said. If you can squeeze out a few tears, that would be even better.

I've just received today's jury list, and there are quite a few married women on it; they see you as they would their own child. So, the more you cry in court, the further your neck will be from the gallows."

Adam blinked, seemingly rehearsing the crying scene.

But despite his efforts, he couldn't squeeze out a single tear, and with a downcast expression, he replied, "But sir, I just can't cry over an umbrella."

"Then think about your parents," Arthur took a deep breath and said, "Adam! Think about how your parents beat you."

No sooner had Arthur spoken than Adam started sobbing quietly.

His tears fell like broken beads on the damp floor of the holding room, attracting the attention of the court bailiff.

"What's the matter, Arthur?"

Arthur hurriedly covered Adam's mouth, looked him in the eye seriously, and repeated his instructions.

"Adam, I know this is very hard for you, and it's hard for me too. But for your neck not to end up on the gallows, you need to hold back those tears now. They're more precious than gold at the moment; you can't use them all up immediately."

Adam's eyes reddened slightly as he took a sharp breath through his nose. His throat was dry and rough, preventing him from speaking normally, but he still nodded vigorously at Arthur.

To Adam's trust, Arthur could only respond with a heavy embrace.

His deep black eyes glinted with a reddish hue, a sign that Agares was smiling.

"Damn it, Adam, you have to do right by me, by Tom, by Mrs. Tom, and by all of us who still care about you. You have to perform well! As for the rest, leave it to me! I, Arthur Hastings, on the Devil's name, am goddamn determined to get you out of that Magistrates' Court alive!"