Transaction

Joseph left two guards behind to keep an eye on the bank manager, lest he leak the news, then led the others out of Havre Bank.

Alden said urgently, "Your Highness, shall I take men to arrest Guizot?"

Joseph raised a hand to stop him. "Guizot merely gave Similien thirty thousand livres. There is no evidence at all proving that he was involved."

"Then arrest Similien. Perhaps he will give up Guizot."

Joseph had not expected the mastermind behind this to be the Police Commissioner of Paris. He frowned and fell into thought. Guizot's position was special; if he stubbornly denied everything, Similien's testimony alone would make it difficult to convict him.

Eman glanced at the dimming sky and said to Joseph, "Your Highness, it is getting dark. We should return to our residence first."

But Joseph suddenly had a flash of inspiration. "When Valian was arrested, it was already close to dusk. So the news should not reach City Hall until tomorrow morning, correct?"

Alden nodded. "He is just a thug. No one will pay attention to him."

"Good!"

Joseph quickly boarded the carriage, bent over the small table, and wrote a letter. He handed it to the Guard Captain.

"Viscount Kex, send someone back to Versailles Palace and deliver this to Her Majesty the Queen. It must be done quickly!"

"Yes, Your Highness!"

At four in the morning, Count Herman, Queen Mary's Clerk, arrived at the Saint-Antoine District Police Station with Secret Police Commissioner Antoine, yawning all the way.

Before the two could offer their greetings, Joseph warmly had hot cocoa brought over and pulled them into their seats.

"Your Highness, you summoned us so urgently. Is there something important?"

"There is indeed something I need to trouble you two with." Joseph leaned forward and began explaining his plan.

Herman's eyes went wide. "This... if it goes wrong..."

"Leave it to me. There will be no accidents." Antoine, however, appeared very confident. "Your Highness's method is excellent. I am even planning to include this in the Secret Police training curriculum."

Joseph bowed to them. "Then I will have to trouble you both."

"It is our honor to serve Your Highness."

At first light, Guizot climbed into his carriage with a yawn, tossed his cane to the servant, and lazily waved a hand. "Move."

The carriage slowly started up, jolting along the cobblestone road. Guizot's home was still some distance from City Hall. Just as he was about to lean back against the seat and doze a little longer, he suddenly heard the driver let out a startled cry. The carriage came to an abrupt halt.

"What is it?" Guizot irritably pulled open the window, intending to see what had happened, but the carriage door was violently yanked open.

Three burly men appeared outside, wearing battered leather caps and black sleeveless armor, reeking from head to toe.

Guizot's bodyguard hurriedly reached for his sword, but a dusack was already pressed to his throat.

A gaunt man with protruding knuckles tilted his head toward the outside of the carriage and said in a low voice, "All of you, get out."

The servant and bodyguard hurriedly got out. Guizot had just begun to move when someone held him down. "You stay put."

Then the three burly men jumped into the carriage. The man holding the blade shut the door and told the driver,

"Keep going. Pretend nothing happened."

The carriage started moving again. The terror on Guizot's face immediately vanished. He leaned back, his voice icy.

"You are Valian, aren't you? Who sent you here?"

As the Police Commissioner of Paris, he naturally had some impression of the leaders of Paris's well-known major gangs. He had even seen the man in the middle, whose left ear was missing half of it, once last year—the Black Sheep Gang's second-in-command.

Valian's eyes flicked toward the gaunt middle-aged man seated on the left. He lowered his head and said vaguely,

"Let... let my subordinate tell you."

The gaunt man scraped the stubble on his face back and forth with his knife, then eyed Guizot sidelong.

"Master Guizot, our boss wants to discuss a deal with you."

"You?" Guizot laughed disdainfully. "What qualifications do you have to make a deal with me? Get out of my carriage!"

The gaunt man acted as though he had not heard him and continued speaking.

"Regarding those twenty thousand livres, you will definitely regret it if you do not listen."

Guizot drew out his words. "Twenty thousand livres? I do not know what you are talking about."

"Why conceal it?" The gaunt man smiled. "Similien went to a brothel with our boss. After getting drunk, he said quite a lot, such as the task you gave him."

"That useless fool!" Guizot muttered. He turned to look out the window. "Whatever it is, go talk to Similien."

"No, he cannot make the decision on this. Our boss wants you to pay those twenty thousand livres directly to us."

Guizot seemed amused. "What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Surely you have heard that a large number of Royal Guards have recently arrived in Saint-Antoine District. No one dares cause trouble there now."

Guizot's expression shifted slightly. "So?"

"What Similien demanded will likely be very difficult to accomplish, whether for us or the Horse Gang." The gaunt man held up two fingers. "But our boss still wants to earn those twenty thousand livres."

Guizot laughed. "You want money without doing anything?"

"No, it is not that we will do nothing." The gaunt man said, "We will directly pull off something big, something worth twenty thousand. Once it is done, we will stop."

Guizot was immediately interested. He had heard about the Royal Guards sweeping through the Saint-Antoine District gangs and had been worrying over it. "What are you planning to do?"

"What are we planning?" The gaunt man shook his head. "No. What do you want us to do?"

Guizot stopped putting on airs and grinned viciously.

"If there is something that can make the Saint-Antoine District Police lose all face, make every newspaper print it on the front page, and give all of Paris something to talk about for a year, then I can consider giving you the twenty thousand livres directly."

The gaunt man thought for a moment. "Then we can find an opportunity to sneak into the Saint-Antoine District Police Station, kill ten Police officers, and then set fire to burn down the station. What do you think?"

"That is a good idea." Guizot rubbed his chin, a smile curling at his lips. "If the police station burns down, will the Crown Prince not lose all face? The Municipal Commissioner will certainly be very pleased. Do it!"

The gaunt man nodded and repeated each word distinctly. "Let me repeat the agreement. You will pay twenty thousand livres to hire us to kill ten Police officers and burn down the police station. Correct?"

Though Guizot found the wording somewhat strange, the substance was indeed correct. He merely assumed thugs did not know how to speak properly and nodded instinctively. "Yes, that is right."

"No one forced you to make this decision, did they?"

"What? Of course not."

The gaunt man raised his eyes and stared at him with a smile. "I am very curious, Mr. Guizot. Why are you spending such a large sum of money to do something that brings you no benefit at all?"

Guizot's face darkened. "Fool, that is not something you should ask! Now get out of my carriage at once and return to Saint-Antoine District to do what you are supposed to do!"

"Yes, it is indeed time to do serious business." The gaunt man smiled as he put away the dusack, removed his battered leather cap, tore off his beard, then drew a pair of cast-iron handcuffs from behind his back and shook them at him. "Guizot, you are suspected of conspiring to murder Police officers, burn down a police station, and threaten the Crown Prince's safety. In the name of the Royal Police, I am formally placing you under arrest."

Royal Police was simply the more elegant name for the Secret Police, equivalent to the FBI of later generations. They possessed enormous authority, including the right to make arrests directly.