In the Greenwich District, at number 18 Central Street, inside a three-story building unremarkable in appearance.
It was already night, and through the faded blue curtains, one could see an oil lamp placed on the desk by the second-floor window.
Arthur, dressed in a police uniform, sat at the desk, his face illuminated by the soft and warm yellow light.
Next door, the noise from a couple arguing and the crying of children would periodically disturb the peace.
In the past, whenever this happened, Arthur would always step out to clear his head.
For over the years, his sleep had been shallow, and he could only rest a bit easier once everything around him quieted down.
But today was clearly different, he was neither agitated by the noise nor tormented by the inability to fall asleep.
Because he had devoted his entire attention to the task at hand.