Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 91

Chapter 91: Chapter 90 Unable to Accuse

Joseph calculated the time, and there was only one month left until the deadline for the tax law to be registered. To bring down the President of the High Court in such a short period, unconventional methods were necessary.

When it came to “unconventional methods,” he immediately thought of the Police Affairs Department, and gestured to Eman, “Please send someone to fetch Fouche…”

He suddenly remembered that he still had to attend a tactical command lecture at the police academy today, “No, prepare the carriage, I’ll go there myself.”

Three carriages departed from the Palace of Versailles one after another, and several hours later, they entered Paris City.

As soon as the carriage crossed the Seine River, Joseph could see from afar a large wooden sign about the height of two people at the east end of the bridge, with a huge oil painting on it.

In the painting, an elegantly dressed noblewoman held a small glass bottle as she sat in a warm and refined home, her face exuding happiness and contentment.

At the top of the painting were large letters — No gifts for Christmas this year, if giving gifts, give the joy of a noblewoman!

Beneath it was a line of smaller text — Noblewoman’s Joy Tonic Christmas extravaganza, free exquisite gift box with purchase.

Further down the road, two flamboyantly dressed young people waved leaflets and shouted, “Buy Paris Angel Cosmetics, spend 50 livres and get a voucher for 20% off Noblewoman’s Joy Tonic.”

Joseph nodded silently to himself, Manager Brent was indeed earning his salary. Although the marketing idea was his own, for someone from the 18th century to understand it so thoroughly and to implement it was certainly a genius in business.

It was worth considering giving him a bonus.

Before long, the carriage entered the Police Affairs Department.

Joseph walked straight into the office and asked Fouche, “What kind of leverage do we have on Vergniaud?”

The head of intelligence was obviously well-prepared and replied without hesitation, “His first year as a judge in Paris, he accepted a bribe to rule in favor of the uncles in the inheritance case of the Antoine brothers.

“The following year, in a case where a noble’s carriage struck someone, he ruled that the victim had deliberately spooked the horses and only awarded 50 livres in compensation. He likely took money for that decision too.

“In that same year, during the Camilley murder case, evidence unfavorable to the killer mysteriously disappeared from the court’s evidence room, and the killer was acquitted. It’s said that the killer’s uncle gave the judge 8,000 livres.”

“Two years later, in the Maan Street murder case, the noble who committed the murder bribed…”

He went on for a while, causing Joseph’s brows to furrow tightly. Since becoming a judge, Vergniaud seemed to have been continuously accepting bribes and creating miscarriages of justice, never stopping.

Joseph interrupted Fouche, “So you’re telling me I could have someone arrest him right now?”

“That…” Fouche shook his head, “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Why? What he’s done is enough to hang him ten times over!”

Fouche replied awkwardly, “These cases are at most sparsely documented, or simply conveyed to me by Mr. Mara; we haven’t found any solid evidence.”

Joseph frowned at this news but soon came to terms with it—Vergniaud was a player of the law himself and would certainly be very careful to destroy evidence.

He reached out to Fouche, “Bring me this man’s file, let’s see if there’s anything we can use.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Soon, a stack almost half a meter high of files was laid out on the desk in front of Joseph; evidently, the Police Affairs Department had also been working hard recently.

Joseph picked up the file on top and flipped it open; it contained the basic information of Vergniaud:

“Henri Francois Minet de Vergniaud, 56 years old, 5.5 French feet tall, weight…

“At the age of 33, he inherited the position of his father, who served as a judge in Grenoble, and was elected as the local judge.”

It’s amazing how judges of the time could perfectly combine hereditary and elective systems, being elected to inherit positions from their fathers.

“Six years later, he was transferred to Paris High Court. At the age of 51, he was elected President of the High Court…

“Personal wealth…

“Interests…

“Favorite food…

“Frequently visited places…”

It listed almost every trivial detail. It could be said that not even Vergniaud’s parents or his wife could know him this well.

Joseph picked up the next dossier, which detailed the social relations of the President of the High Court:

“Political allies: Duke of Aiguillon, Count Seyrelier…

“Political opponents…

“Close friends: Darcy, judge at the Paris High Court, 49 years old…

“Valjean, Assistant Commissioner of Caen Municipality, 51 years old…

“…

“Ordinary friends…

“Enemies…”

The following documents described the situation inside Vergniaud’s household, including detailed information about the layout of his house and his chauffeur, gardener, chef, maids, and so on.

What surprised Joseph the most was a special note on the dossier stating that both of Vergniaud’s chambermaids had been “taken care of” by the lads sent by Fouche.

Now, these two girls were completely submissive to their respective handsome, romantic, and wealthy boyfriends. They could even find out how many times Vergniaud yawned each day from them.

Joseph held his forehead and forced a smile, thinking that Fouche was going a bit mad, not hesitating to seduce young girls just to gather a bit of intelligence…

He put down the document in his hand and picked up a stack of letters, discovering that all of these were Vergniaud’s private correspondence from recent years.

Fouche, seeking recognition, said, “Your Highness, half of these were supplied by the Black Room, and the rest were copied directly from Vergniaud’s study.”

The “Black Room” he referred to was the Secret Police’s postal espionage service, tasked with “reviewing” various letters and being the most efficient department within the Secret Police. However, the Black Room still couldn’t compare to Fouche’s “maid” strategy, as the letters from the study were most likely obtained by them.

Joseph inquired, “Is there any usable evidence in these letters?”

Fouche shook his head: “Any that could be used to incriminate him have probably been destroyed.”

Joseph helplessly opened the last document, which was also the one with the most content, documenting all the cases handled by Vergniaud.

Fouche added, “Your Highness, all these were taken directly from the High Court’s archive, absolutely reliable.”

Joseph nodded, beginning to browse through them.

The first one was a property division case, nearing the end of its trial.

The second was a rape and murder case, which had only begun trial more than ten days ago.

The case was roughly about a minor noble named Runashe who, suddenly overwhelmed by lust, abducted a 15-year-old commoner girl into his oil painting shop and assaulted her.

During the ordeal, the girl’s 9-year-old brother followed the clues to the door and cried out for help loudly.

Out of desperation, Runashe dragged the boy inside and killed him. Fearing that the matter would be exposed, he killed the girl as well and threw her body into the Seine River.

Since several of the victim’s belongings were found in Runashe’s shop and neighbors had seen the boy enter the oil painting shop, Runashe was quickly arrested and prosecuted.

Joseph sighed, feeling pity for the brother and sister. According to the case files, this case had already been heard once in court but had not yet been sentenced.