Arthur gently picked up the paper strip, his gaze fixed on it, slowly spitting out a line of translation: "Male suspect, burn scar on left cheek, gray tweed coat, five feet nine inches..."
As Arthur reached this part, his words suddenly faltered, and his expression changed thrice.
Langworth immediately noticed Arthur's shift, instinctively gripping the back of the chair, his voice dropping sharply: "What's wrong?"
Arthur didn't answer right away. His eyes were glued to the strip of paper, the calm smile at his lips rapidly fading, and he read the next sentence in an extremely low voice: "The suspect is traveling by hired carriage toward Golden Cross Station, intending to take the ten forty-five southbound stagecoach to escape. Carrying an ivory inlaid silver writing box, a gift from George IV, evidence stolen from Kensington Palace. Request immediate interception, at once!"
