Clues (Monthly Ticket Request)

As the Black Sheep Gang members spoke, a commotion suddenly rose in the distance. It seemed someone was committing a robbery in the street.

The Royal Guards immediately rushed over, shouting a warning at the same time, "Get down at once, or we are authorized to shoot you dead!"

The two Horse Gang thugs paid them no heed whatsoever. They slashed the victim to the ground, then ran for an alley without even looking back.

These royal guards were completely different from the poorly equipped Police. Each man carried a musket and wore a breastplate.

They immediately spread out in a line and raised their guns to aim. Their leader shouted again, "Final warning! Get down at once!"

The robbers merely made an insulting gesture over their shoulders, laughing wildly as they ran even faster. In their experience, as long as they were bold enough and fast enough, neither the Police nor anyone else could do a thing to them.

However, this time they were facing France's most elite Guard.

"Fire!" At their leader's command, five muskets rang out at once. The two thugs in the distance were struck forward onto the ground by the bullets, several palm-sized holes bursting open across their backs and gushing blood.

The precise marksmanship and terrifyingly decisive killing intent made the Black Sheep Gang members shrink their necks in fright.

They exchanged glances, then hurried back to report to their boss, not even bothering to check on their dead underlings.

Like an invincible beast, the Crown Prince Guards swept through the entire Saint-Antoine District. Just after ten in the morning, six gang members had already tasted their bullets. The two gangs that had been swaggering about and causing trouble everywhere immediately wilted...

These were Joseph's orders to the Guard: whenever they encountered someone committing a crime, if they could not catch them, shoot them dead! Severe illness required strong medicine. If blood did not cow these gang members, who knew how many more citizens would die? This was the Royal Era, after all. No one was to prattle on about criminals' personal rights before him. He had no room for saintly mercy!

The Horse Gang's leader cowered in their hideout, watching the tall, powerfully built Royal Guards march past through a gap in the curtains. Their bearing made his eyelids twitch wildly.

The door was knocked on from time to time, each knock bringing news from his underlings that another gang member had been arrested or shot dead.

In a single day, he had already lost seventeen men. His heart bled. I'm only a thug. Did they really need to mobilize the army to crush me?

The Black Sheep Gang reacted slightly faster. By noon, they had called all their people back and lost only around a dozen men.

For the next two days, no serious crimes occurred in Saint-Antoine District again. Similien's pay might have been generous, but the Royal Guards were truly shooting to kill. What was the use of earning more money if you had no life left to spend it?

When news that the gang members had lowered their banners and rolled up their drums reached the police station, everyone was ecstatic. They lavishly praised the Crown Prince's decisiveness and methods, as well as the Royal Guards' formidable might.

Joseph paid no attention to their rainbow farts. He knew perfectly well that the Guard's thunderous methods had only temporarily intimidated the gang members. It would not be long before the gangs found an opening. After all, the Guard was unfamiliar with the area and knew nothing about criminal investigation.

Moreover, most Guard members were titled knights. If they were kept patrolling the streets indefinitely, their morale would soon sink, and they would grow slack.

A thief could work for a thousand days, but no one could guard against thieves for a thousand days. Unless the mastermind behind this turmoil was found, another major case would surface sooner or later.

Public Security Inspector Alden knocked and entered. After saluting, he said, "Your Highness, we have interrogated everyone we brought back. They are all small fry, but many of them mentioned that every time they pulled a job, someone gave their leaders one thousand livres, and they got a considerable share as well."

Joseph frowned inwardly. These people really were committing crimes for money. One thousand livres per job? This mastermind was truly throwing money around with a grand hand!

He instructed Alden to interrogate them more thoroughly, when a Guard officer strode in quickly and saluted respectfully.

"Your Highness, my men just captured someone named Valian. His status seems rather unusual..."

"Valian?" Alden immediately became excited. "He is the Black Sheep Gang's second-in-command! How did you capture him?"

The officer said, "He was fighting someone at a gambling house. When I led my men there, he tried to flee. My men shot three of his underlings dead. If he had not given his name, he would probably have been shot dead too."

Alden swallowed, feeling some sympathy for the Black Sheep Gang thugs. Then he looked at Joseph and said,

(To be continued. Please click the next page.)

"Your Highness, Valian may know something. I'll interrogate him right away!"

Less than an hour later, Magoney hurried back. He had not even had time to wipe away the blood spattered on him as he presented a written confession to Joseph.

"Your Highness, we struck gold!"

Joseph read the Black Sheep Gang leader's statement. A man named Raymond had been throwing money at them to create chaos—one thousand livres each time. After a month, whichever of them or the Horse Gang caused the greater disturbance would receive another twenty thousand livres.

He frowned slightly. "What does this Raymond do?"

Alden shook his head, but the police clerk beside him exclaimed, "He is Mr. Similien's cousin."

"Similien?" Joseph found the name somewhat familiar.

The clerk said, "The former Police Commissioner of this district."

Joseph immediately understood. No wonder nearly a hundred people at the police station had all taken leave at once. Their old superior was the black hand behind the curtain. With that, everything made sense.

Alden had been promoted from the civilian Patrol and did not understand these twists and turns very well. He looked at Joseph inquisitively. "Your Highness, should we arrest Similien?"

Joseph was about to nod when something suddenly occurred to him. He asked the clerk, "What was Similien's salary before this?"

"Forty livres a month, I believe, Your Highness."

"Did he come from a wealthy family?"

"No, Your Highness. Mr. Similien's father seemed to have been a minor civil servant. His family circumstances were ordinary."

Joseph narrowed his eyes. "At his salary, it would take him more than forty years to save twenty thousand livres. Where did he get such a large sum of money?"

Alden froze. "You mean...?"

Joseph said slowly, "There should be someone else directing him from behind the scenes."

After pondering for a moment, Alden said, "Your Highness, I remember Valian mentioning that Raymond showed them a deposit slip for twenty thousand livres to prove that he could pay. It was from Havre Bank."

This might be an important clue. Joseph nodded and took out a map to examine it. He discovered that Havre Bank was a small bank with only two branches in Paris.

"Viscount Eman, you and Alden..." He considered it, then shook his head. "Forget it. I'd better go myself."

At the Havre Bank closer to City Hall, the bank manager initially refused to let them inspect the accounts no matter what. Only after Joseph revealed his identity and threatened to have the Secret Police investigate if he did not cooperate did the manager finally yield.

Similien's account activity was very simple, with only a few transactions—he had cashed a bill of exchange for thirty thousand livres, then deposited the money in several portions. One of those deposits was precisely twenty thousand livres.

Joseph sighed inwardly at how weak people of this era were at guarding against financial tracing. Then he obtained the information he wanted most: the payer of that bill of exchange was Viscount Guizot, Police Commissioner of Paris!