Chapitre 91: Chapter 91: The Uncle Arrives!
Chapter 91: The Uncle Arrives!
Joseph read through all the cases handled by Vézinier from start to finish and discussed them with Fouché and others for a long time, but they couldn't find anything they could use against him. Some cases might reveal something if investigated further, but that would definitely take a lot of time.
As they were all at a loss, Émond approached and quietly reminded him, "Your Highness, if we don't leave soon, we'll miss the class at the police academy."
Joseph rubbed his temples, realizing they weren't going to find any dirt on Vézinier anytime soon. He decided it was best to head to the command course at the academy first.
He got up and headed for the door, then thought for a moment and called Fouché to join him, planning to continue their discussion on the way.
Fouché hurriedly gathered up the pile of documents on Vézinier's cases and followed quickly. But after only a few steps, some of the letters in the documents suddenly scattered all over the floor.
Fouché awkwardly put down the files and called everyone over to help pick up the letters.
Joseph looked at the dozens of letters on the floor and waved his hand, saying, "Leave them, let's go. There's nothing useful in them anyway…"
He sighed, shaking his head in frustration. "If only we had a few letters with his crimes written on them."
As he said this, he suddenly stopped, feeling like he had grasped an idea.
He didn't have any evidence—could he find a way to make Vézinier write something incriminating himself?
He quickly reviewed the materials he had read in his mind, then turned around and pulled out a few sheets from the documents near Fouché, spreading them out on the table.
One was about a man named Varel, and then he looked at the information on Lunache's father, the suspect in the recent murder case.
The two men were completely unrelated, but they had one thing in common—they were both from Caen.
Joseph pondered for a moment. Maybe he could use this small detail, push it forward in a certain way… and then lead Vézinier into a trap, no matter how cautious he was!
He grabbed the file on Vézinier's maid and read it again, then excitedly asked Fouché, "Do we have anyone in the Intelligence Bureau who's good at forging handwriting?"
Fouché nodded. "Yes, several, Your Highness."
"Great, bring them here right away," Joseph ordered, pointing to the letters on the floor. "Find any letters from Varel."
"Varel?" Fouché paused, then remembered that Varel was Vézinier's close friend and quickly began searching through the letters.
In a moment, he held up a letter and said, "Your Highness, here it is!"
Several experts in handwriting imitation were brought to the office. Under Joseph's direction, they studied Vézinier and Varel's handwriting and wrote out a few sample sentences.
Joseph selected the two who mimicked the handwriting the best and then ordered all of Varel's letters to be found. These were handed over to professional intelligence officers to analyze for any possible codes or hidden meanings.
Once the preparations were complete, Joseph told Fouché, "Select a few capable men and send them to Caen immediately."
"Caen?"
Joseph nodded. "Go and investigate Varel's background in detail, and then set things up like this…"
After giving detailed instructions, Fouché's eyes lit up, clearly realizing the plan. He nodded repeatedly. "Yes, I'll handle it right away!"
Joseph then reviewed the plan with Fouché, ensuring all details were covered before leaving the Intelligence Bureau and heading to the police academy, feeling much more at ease. Though, by the time he arrived, the tactical command class was surely long over.
…
A few days later.
In a small villa on Mouffetard Street, on the Left Bank of Paris.
A middle-aged noble couple sat on chairs, looking worried, each lost in their thoughts, occasionally sighing deeply.
On the table in front of them were plates of stew, bread, and vegetable corn soup, all of which had long gone cold, untouched.
A knock at the door startled them. The maid quickly went to open it a crack and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
"Is this the home of Viscount Monteret?"
"That's me."
The man in the house wearily stood up and walked over, frowning at the unfamiliar man before him. "Sorry, who are you?"
"Silvain, it's me." The visitor warmly embraced Viscount Monteret's shoulders and gave him a pat. Seeing that Monteret was still confused, he smiled and pointed to himself, saying, "Langet, remember? Your cousin."
"Cousin?" Viscount Monteret was puzzled.
Mr. Langet seemed a bit upset, handing over the gift he had brought and stepping back, saying, "My mother is your Aunt Angelique. Remember now?"
Viscount Monteret suddenly realized and nodded repeatedly, "How is Aunt Angelique? Oh, dear cousin, how did you find me here?"
Of course, this "Langet" was not his real cousin but an agent from the Intelligence Bureau.
The Intelligence Bureau had gone to Monteret's hometown of Caen, made thorough preparations, and selected a distant relative as their entry point.
Langet pulled a copy of the Caen News from his pocket, a week-old edition, and showed it to Monteret. "I saw the news about little Lunache. Oh, it's so… tragic."
The newspaper featured the latest news on the "Lunache Rape and Murder Case" that Vézinier was currently handling.
Viscountess Monteret also came over, covering her red eyes and face with her hands. "Oh God, they even know about this in Caen…"
Langet quickly said, "My mother saw it too and immediately said I must come to help you. So, here I am.
"Oh, by the way, what's the situation with the case? Has it been decided yet?"
Viscount Monteret shook his head. "Not yet. But the presiding judge refuses to see me. I'm afraid… there's no hope."
Langet smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm here to help with that."
"You? You have a way?"
Langet nodded. "The person I serve has some influence with that judge. I'll go and help smooth things over for you.
"Of course, it might require some money—a large sum."
The Monterets were so overwhelmed with gratitude they nearly fell to their knees, pleading, "We'll find a way to get the money. As long as he doesn't get the death penalty, anything else is fine. Please, we beg you!"
Langet had them sit down and asked, "Tell me the details of the case again."
After a long time, Viscount Monteret finally finished recounting the case, and Langet asked a few more questions before standing up.
"Alright, I'm going to the High Court now. Wait for my good news."
Forty minutes later, Langet's carriage stopped outside the side entrance of the Paris High Court.
He looked at the massive crowd of protesters in front of him, shook his head in resignation, and pushed through the crowd.
Soon, inside the largest office on the third floor of the High Court, he finally met his target for this mission—Chief Judge Vézinier.
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