Duke of Orléans's Counterattack

Guizot was the first to jolt upright. He summoned a subordinate seated at the far end of the banquet table and ordered,

"Cesar, take some men and investigate whether any dentist had contact with Lenotre a month ago!"

Joseph thought for a moment, then added, "If a dentist went to Lenotre's home, his servants should know."

"But the servants' testimony mentioned nothing of it..." Guizot froze mid-sentence. "No, that's not right! Cesar, interrogate the servants as well!"

"Yes, sir!"

Outside City Hall, Lenotre's fiancée had stopped crying and shouting. Perhaps the guards had driven her away, or perhaps someone had told her the case was being reopened.

That afternoon, the fat mayor arrived with a group of City Hall officials to invite Joseph to dinner. The police officer named Cesar suddenly hurried over and whispered something to Guizot.

The latter's eyes lit up. He turned, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed to Joseph, his voice ringing out.

"Your Highness, just as you predicted, Lenotre's servant confessed soon after being arrested. He said that a dentist had indeed visited Lenotre's home at the time of the crime. The servant took a sum of money from that man and gave false testimony."

The Chamber of Commerce President hurriedly asked, "What about the murderer?"

"Cesar searched the dentist's residence and discovered that he was British. His elder brother had fought in the United States and was shot dead by Lenotre. He came seeking revenge." Guizot lowered his head and gave a dry cough. "It is only that Cesar accidentally stabbed him to death while pursuing him."

The dozen or so City Hall officials nearby all turned to look at Joseph, their eyes filled with astonishment and admiration. At the noon banquet, the Crown Prince had deduced the murderer's circumstances from nothing more than a few clues he had heard.

And now, the police investigation's actual findings were almost exactly as he had said!

The fat mayor immediately praised him loudly. "Thankfully, the Crown Prince is wise and brilliant. Otherwise, that murderer would have remained at large."

Then he turned with a smile and whispered to the officials behind him, "That woman finally won't come make trouble at City Hall anymore..."

After night fell, Joseph accepted the repeated invitations of Flesselles, the Chamber of Commerce President, and stayed in his private villa. City Hall was too far from Versailles Palace, and Joseph did not want to make the journey back and forth.

Joseph reclined against the soft bed, staring fixedly at the wall opposite him, but he felt somewhat vexed.

All day, the fat mayor and the Chamber of Commerce President had been fencing with him in circles, never agreeing to let him intervene in the Police Department. He turned over, considering that if he still could not persuade them tomorrow, he would write to the Queen and have himself placed in the Police Department.

Outside the room, Eman knocked lightly on the door. "Your Highness, are you asleep?"

"Not yet. Come in."

Eman pushed open the door and respectfully handed Joseph a letter. "Your Highness, this was sent by the Police Department. It seems to have been left by Mr. Lenotre's fiancée."

"Her? A letter for me?"

Eman said heavily, "Well... she committed suicide for love tonight..."

Joseph's mood grew rather somber. He had not expected there truly to be such a devoted woman in the world.

He unfolded the letter. The first few lines thanked Cesar and the other police officers. Then she wrote that she dearly wished to thank in person the Crown Prince who had exposed the true culprit, but the gulf between their stations made it impossible for her to meet him, so she could only offer her gratitude in this way. Her words of thanks filled an entire page. At the end of the letter, she said that without Lenotre, life no longer held any meaning for her. The police had already avenged Lenotre, so she would follow her beloved away. After her death, all her property was to be divided between the Crown Prince and the Police Bureau.

This gift surprised Joseph somewhat. Beside him, Eman said softly, "Your Highness, it is said that Miss Estelle left behind an estate worth 4,000 Livre..."

On the banks of the Seine River.

The Royal Palace located here had once been one of Louis XIV's residences, but now it belonged to the Duke of Orléans.

The House of Orleans had once served as Regent in the era of Louis XV. Their power had towered to the heavens, and after more than a century of accumulation, they possessed immense wealth rivaling that of the royal family.

The current Duke of Orléans had relied on this foundation since his father's generation, constantly expanding his own influence. Though he held no actual office, he could attend Cabinet Meetings, and his authority was by no means slight. Combined with his gift for putting on a show and his willingness to spend lavishly, he was a welcome guest in all manner of political circles, and among the nobility as well

extremely prestigious.

A luxurious carriage entered the Royal Palace and stopped before a flower-lined corridor. The Duke of Orléans descended along the steps arranged by his servants.

The sound of a speech drifted from the garden not far away. He glanced in that direction, a smile curling across his lips. He knew that some organization dissatisfied with the royal family was holding a gathering there.

Yes, the Royal Palace had now become a secret base for anti-royal forces. The future backbones of the Feillant, Girondins, and Jacobin factions all often gathered here. In addition, all kinds of prohibited contraband, including controlled weapons, could be sold here.

The Duke of Orléans used his influence to spread a protective umbrella over them. He had painstakingly cultivated this for decades. So long as something aided in overthrowing the royal family, he would support it with all his strength.

The Duke of Orléans tossed his coat to a servant and strode into the main hall. The moment the guard opened the doors, he saw his son berating and beating a Maid.

He gave a light cough and stepped forward. "Philip, what is the matter with you?"

The Youth turned around. He was none other than the sharp-eyed boy who had taken the mathematics examination alongside Joseph that morning. Pointing at the Maid, he shrieked, "This idiot! She brought me Black Tea when I was already in a bad mood! And it's so hot!"

"What has put you in such a bad mood?"

"That Joseph!" Philip clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. "He must have cheated! There's no way he could have studied university courses!"

After hearing the whole story, the Duke of Orléans could not help frowning. He had not expected the Crown Prince to move a great scholar like Lagrange. The King's line had finally produced a fool like Louis XVI—why was his son so outstanding instead?

He had to suppress the Crown Prince before his Prestige rose. Otherwise, bringing down the King would become even more difficult.

After comforting his son with a few words, he saw the butler hurry over and bow. "Master, Mr. Frua requests an audience."

"Le Verber's confidant? Have him wait for me in the study."

Inside the study, the Duke of Orléans read through the letter Frua had delivered. A sneer appeared in his eyes as he handed it to the butler beside him.

"The Crown Prince may have a bit of cleverness, but he is still only a child. If he merely idled away his days at City Hall, there would be nothing I could do to him. But he actually wants to take part in police administration."

The butler looked at the letter and clicked his tongue. "Paris has always been a tangled mix of dragons and fish, especially the poor districts. Robberies and murders have never ceased. Even old hands with decades of municipal experience are at their wits' end. The Crown Prince is digging his own grave."

The Duke of Orléans smiled and nodded. "Since Joseph is so confident, let us help him make a name for himself."

He turned to Frua. "Go back and tell Le Verber to make the Crown Prince the Police Commissioner of the Saint-Antoine District."

A Police Commissioner was a position of real authority second only to the Police Superintendent, overseeing all police affairs in one major district of Paris. Paris had only six Police Commissioners in total.

"Yes, Your Grace."

After Le Verber's confidant departed, the Duke of Orléans gave another order to the butler. "Have Paris News and Citizen Daily pay closer attention to crime and police management in the Saint-Antoine District. Write in detail about the official in charge of policing there—our Crown Prince."

"Yes." The butler bowed and withdrew.

The Duke of Orléans paced to the window and gazed contentedly at the Royal Palace gardens beneath the night sky, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

"Once the Saint-Antoine District is a pot of boiling porridge, let's see how that Austrian Bitch can still protect her son. Crown Prince? Hmph. Before long, in people's eyes, you'll be a fool just like your father!"

The Austrian Bitch he referred to was Queen Mary, who had been born in Austria.