Chapter 85 Meeting

Police Information Department, in the intelligence team office.

Fouche had a dark face and a pair of dead fish eyes, staring coldly at the heads of the intelligence team in front of him, and said in a hoarse voice: "Shame! This is simply a shame!"

The people in the intelligence team lowered their heads in embarrassment, not daring to answer the question at all.

Fouche said word by word: "If I give you another 10 days and still can't get anything useful, I will find a few reporters to sit in your seats! Do you understand?!"

"Yes, I understand!" Several people said in unison.

They were really helpless - after a lot of effort, their men found some clues about the high court judge's dirty information, and happily asked the "informant" to show it to Marat. Unexpectedly, Mara smiled and handed the "informant" a pamphlet. Their "big discovery" had already been printed on it, and it was much more detailed than what they found. The next day everyone in Paris knew about it.

They really can't figure out why these reporters can investigate faster than their professional intelligence...

A few people could only secretly make up their minds to get important information that shocked these reporters, so as to avenge their previous shame!

Fouche left angrily. Several big guys from the intelligence team immediately whispered to each other:

"I'm here with Vezinier's maid and Dubor's mistress. What about you?"

"My people got the combination of the safe of Vezinier's house and got two people in, but they didn't have the chance to make a move..."

"I copied all the letters from those judges. Do you want to read them?"

"My informant can enter the high court's file vault, but if that doesn't work, how about we steal all the files?"

...

Parlement de Paris.

In the conference room hall, Justice Vezinier's words were repeatedly interrupted by the voices of protesters outside. He rushed to the window angrily and shouted down: "Can't you be quiet? You uneducated guys!"

One of the extremely powerful protesters immediately threw a fist-sized clod of soil over and almost got into the third-floor window.

Vézinier was startled and hurriedly retreated to the conference table, shouting with a dark face: "What are those police doing? Why haven't they arrested the rioters yet!?"

A judge with sad eyes sitting on the left covered his ears with his hands and said: "Those pamphlets are the key, they are inciting hatred against the High Court. Without those things, the crowd will disperse soon."

Vézinier nodded slowly, but was very puzzled: "Viscount DuBoer, isn't this kind of pamphlet mostly under the control of the person at the Royal Palace? Why did you attack the High Court?"

"Who knows?" DiBoer said, "Maybe we have to go and find out the situation from him."

The judge next to him with a hooked nose said solemnly: "You go to the Palais Royal. I'll go to the police station! These damn policemen know how to be lazy. I'm almost driven crazy by these untouchables!"

Soon, several carriages squeezed out of the High Court in embarrassment amid the boos of the protesting crowd, and went in two directions.

...

In the study room of the Royal Palace, the Duke of Orleans looked at the two middle-aged men in front of him and asked: "So, what do you think?"

The judge of the High Court has just left. He lamented that the High Court has been under pressure from public opinion recently and asked him to find a solution.

He also knew that there had been a proliferation of pamphlets out of his control recently, and it was time to strike back, so he immediately summoned his two most powerful writers to discuss countermeasures.

The man with a high nose and a somewhat Italian face flipped through the pamphlet in his hand and said with some hesitation: "Your Majesty, frankly speaking, these novels are very attractive...I mean, ordinary people who are ignorant will find them very interesting. "

The handsome man with blue eyes continued: "And it's very cheap. I heard that a copy only costs 1 sou and 5 dennies. You see, it even has 5 illustrations."

"So," the Duke of Orleans nodded, "I need you to write something more interesting as soon as possible to overwhelm these pamphlets.

"As for the price, you don't have to worry."

As a veteran in manipulating public opinion, he knew very well that a 16-page pamphlet with five pictures cost 5 to 6 sous. But in order to regain the right to speak in public opinion, he could only sell it for 1 sou and 5 denier.

​And based on the scale of those pamphlets, it is estimated that at least tens of thousands of copies were sold. In other words, to achieve the same sales volume, he would have to lose three thousand to four thousand livres a day.

The Duke of Orleans frowned. He could afford the money, but who was the other party's background? He was willing to pay so much money to deal with the High Court?

Is it Brian?

He showed a sneer and wanted to use public opinion to challenge me? Then come and try it!

...

Vézinier hurried to the city hall and went straight to the police station, but was told by a clerk that the police chief had gone to Brittany to purchase police equipment.

Brittany is far away on the west coast of France, and a round trip takes at least half a month.

Vezinier asked helplessly: "What about the assistant police chief?"

The clerk said respectfully: "We are going to Brittany too."

Vezinier was angry: "Who is in charge here now?!"

"The Chief Inspector of Police didn't say..."

Vézinier was aggrieved, but he had no choice but to return to the carriage and prepare to go to the police commissioner of the Louvre area.

However, when he rushed to the Louvre District Police Station, the news he received was that "Police Commissioner Mr. Arden took all the main officials to the Paris Police Academy for training."

The next day, Vézinier came to the Paris police station again, and found out that Arden had gone to the training ground opened by the police academy in the southern suburbs, more than ten kilometers away.

In this way, he and Arden went around in circles for three days, but still failed to catch anyone.

Eventually, he planned to mobilize some police forces from the neighboring district of Saint-Germain to disperse the protesters outside the High Court. The police commissioner of the Saint-Germain district said he wanted to help, but he needed an inter-regional transfer order from the police chief before he could go...

Mirabeau watched the scenery outside the carriage window flying backwards. He subconsciously rubbed his cane and frowned unconsciously.

To be honest, he really didn't want to participate in today's meeting - he had already received the news about the previous cabinet meeting, and he knew very well that the Crown Prince and Brian were of the same faction. And he had just attended a gathering to denounce Briand a few days ago. What could he have to say to the Crown Prince?

But Mr. Dupont insisted that this meeting was very important and repeatedly asked him to come.

Although his relationship with Dupont was average, Dupont was the major financial backer behind several politicians he was friends with, and he was also the president of the French Chamber of Commerce. And he runs a large number of workshops and shops himself, and relies on the Chamber of Commerce for a lot of business, so he cannot refute DuPont's face too much.

Son of God? He smiled and shook his head. No matter how talented he was, he was still just a thirteen-year-old child. Could Brian want to use his identity to negotiate terms with himself?