Over the next several days, Elyon continued with the mundane clerical work until the seventh day, which was designated for patrol. Waking up early, he dressed in his crisp police uniform and secured his revolver in its holster before heading to the station, where Garrick and Brownie were already waiting for him.
"Today we're on patrol duty; we'll be at the docks in the morning and the surrounding streets in the afternoon. You've got your gun, right? Even though we hardly ever need them."
Garrick spoke as he lit a cigarette.
"Yes, Mr. Garrick, I have it with me. How will we be getting there?"
"The station has a communal carriage. Take the opportunity to learn how to drive it from Brownie. In special situations, you might need to handle it alone."
Brownie, in addition to his police uniform, was equipped with a polished black wooden baton at his waist.
They selected a sturdy local horse from the station stables, hitched to a black carriage bearing the sword and saber emblem. Elyon took his place on the driver's bench, observing Brownie's handling of the reins.
"Horses are clever animals," Brownie advised. "Don't pull the reins too tight. Just a gentle tug left or right will do when turning."
The carriage made its steady way through the streets, the morning mist yet to dissipate. Workers on their way to the day's toil stepped aside at the sight of the police carriage, halting their muttered curses momentarily.
Children too young for school, dressed in faded, ragged clothes, played by the roadside, watching the trio pass by with a mix of curiosity and fear.
The docks were alive with the smells of seafood, burning coal, and the sweat of labor. Small steamboats laden with various goods sat beside wooden cranes lifting heavy parcels to and from the boats. Dockworkers bustled about, shifting cargo.
"Parker the captain once had his pocket watch stolen by a pickpocket right here," Garrick shared. "Luckily, the chain was attached to his uniform, or the thief might've gotten away."
"Was the thief caught?" Elyon inquired.
"No, just a starving thirteen-year-old kid. The captain ended up buying him a meal and found him a job as a kitchen helper in a restaurant. Likely a runaway from an orphanage. There are a few small criminal gangs in the docks and the seafood market involved in smuggling and illegal trafficking."
"Don't we intervene?"
"Smuggling is the Tax Office's concern. As for illegal immigration, do you think the mines and steelworks, places demanding high labor, get enough workers? While the conservative party yells about deporting illegal immigrants, our whig party members need quality black workers from the southern continents for their factories. We're going to take a walk in the marketplace and then grab some coffee."
The seafood market was bustling with freshly caught marine life, the floor slippery and damp. Housewives with baskets haggled fiercely with the vendors.
"Good morning, Chief Garrick. Is that the new chief beside you? So young to be a chief already. Look forward to your care in the future," the stallholders greeted them warmly.
"Good morning, I'm Elyon, the new clerk from the station," Elyon replied, tipping his hat in greeting.
Next to the market, they entered a small coffeehouse, a favorite among the dockworkers and merchants. Despite the greasy atmosphere, the coffee was cheap—only 3 pence for a large pot, though it tasted slightly of ashes.
"It's ten o'clock now; our confidential informant should be arriving soon," Garrick said, glancing at his watch.
The door chimed as a slender, short-haired boy of about ten entered. Garrick waved him over.
"Good morning, Mr. Garrick. Are you on patrol today?" the boy asked, standing at the table's edge.
"Take a seat here, I'm Elyon, the new clerk." Elyon gestured to the bench beside him.
"Thank you, sir, but I'll stand. What would you like to know today?" the boy declined the offer with respect.
"Have the Black Gang and the Blood Eagles been keeping quiet lately? Any big moves at the docks?" Garrick inquired.
"Since you talked with the gang leaders last month, they've kept their men in check. Recently, there's been a group of men in black hanging around warehouse number four."
"I see. Keep your distance from those in black when gathering information. Anything else?"
"There's been a decrease in stray dogs lately."
"That's not our concern. Take good care of your sister, and if she gets sick, remember to come to the station—you know where it is."
With that, Garrick placed five pennies on the table.
"Thank you for looking after us. I'll inform the station if there's any new information."
The boy named Cole nodded gratefully, sweeping the coins into his pocket before leaving.
As Elyon was about to say something, Garrick spoke first:
"It's not just charity. Ordinary gang members and workers wouldn't say a thing to us, but children go unnoticed. Our leisurely coffee here is also thanks to their help. By the way, when patrolling in pairs, the one with higher pay deals with the informant fees, while the other covers the coffee. Remember that when you go out with other officers. That five pence means a lot to those siblings."
After a simple lunch in the station's canteen, Elyon attempted to drive the carriage, proceeding with caution at a snail's pace until Brownie nudged him aside, taking over.
"I think we won't finish patrol in the afternoon at this rate. Let's leave it to the professionals."
The streets near the docks were quieter, as most workers were still on the job even on the seventh day.
Passing by his own street, Valen Street, where a more affluent class lived, Elyon encountered Nyara who had just returned from shopping.
"Big bro, when are you coming back for dinner?"
"After work."
"Don't come back too late, or you'll have to reheat your food."
"You live on Valen Street, and you have two sisters? No wonder you came highly recommended by Chief Orion," Garrick teased.
"Just a farmer's son, and the house is rented through the previous landlord's referral. It just so happens Chief Orion knew my professor," Elyon replied with an awkward smile.
"Lucky coincidences seem to favor you. Let's finish the patrol, and afterwards, you can go straight home. No need to return to the station."