Knock knock knock.
"Come in."
Arthur pushed open the door of the Chief's office. Despite the decent sunlight today, even the abundant sunshine couldn't hide the shadow on Rowan's face.
Rowan leaned back in his office chair, incessantly smoking. He looked at Arthur as he entered, remained silent for a long time, and then nodded at him, "Take a seat, Inspector Hastings."
As soon as Arthur settled into his seat, he heard Rowan's deep inhalation fill the almost stagnant air.
He took off his pipe and knocked it against the lacquered wood ashtray on the desk, resting his arms in front of him, his body leaning forward slightly.
On his face, there was neither the expected mockery nor a trace of joy at an enemy's misfortune.