Chapter 1824 - 112: An Alliance of Titans
Chapter 1824 - 112: An Alliance of Titans
Although both men are renowned detectives, Victor appears to lack the "wisdom" of Arthur Hastings, who is adept at navigating office politics, or perhaps due to his smooth sailing in the past two years, he has forgotten the old adage about sailing cautiously.
In just two years, the Breaux Detective Agency’s office location changed twice. The first year, they moved from a cramped small office to a brand-new office building on the Left Bank of the Seine River. The second year, they directly moved from the Left Bank to No. 39 New Street, Outache, where even the address on their business card was boldly printed: the street in front can accommodate eight taxi carriages coming and going simultaneously.
The new offices were like a maze, even the door plates imitated government offices by numbering: one department, two departments, three departments, four departments.
Yes, four departments, even two more than Victor’s Security Department at the Great Paris Police Hall.
The luxurious decoration of the reception room, although not comparable to the Imperial Palace, is enough to make one mistakenly think the boss is a newly wealthy mine owner.
Compared to the simple reception procedures of "British", Victor’s detective agency was much more elaborate.
When guests arrived at the reception room, first a clerk would inquire about their purpose, then decide whether to let them pass the security check. Clearing security wasn’t enough; afterwards, they would face questioning from the attendant, who would ultimately decide if the boss would meet with them.
There’s no denying that Victor’s procedure was full of ceremony, giving one a sense of holding great power.
However, in Arthur’s eyes, all his actions suggested a hint of danger.
If Victor’s agency were in London, he might not face intense repression, as even if Scotland Yard disliked him, they couldn’t do much about it.
But unfortunately, Victor’s business was based in Paris, where the Great Paris Police Hall’s vindictive nature is no weaker than Scotland Yard’s, and they have even more power. Additionally, Victor has also offended Paris’s court, so being targeted isn’t particularly surprising.
"It seems your situation is quite unfavorable, Mr. Victor." Arthur advised the veteran detective earnestly: "Even in London, confronting government departments usually doesn’t end well."
"I know that." Victor acknowledged his actions might be inappropriate, but the tremendous success of the past two years indeed gave him confidence: "But you understand, even if I don’t provoke them actively, as long as my detective agency is still operating, they’ll always look like fools in comparison. They’ve been collecting dirt on me openly and secretly for two years, but how could I let them succeed? Rest assured, my dealings are clean."
Seeing Victor’s confidence, Arthur was too lazy to argue further and merely pointed out at last: "People like us must rely on evidence in our work, but Paris police may not. If they want to, they could easily frame you. If the judge doesn’t back you up, even the most ridiculous legal case can succeed. Besides, in our line of work, we’re bound to leave traces behind, and if they seriously try to dig, they’ll eventually find something."
Victor also knew Arthur was right; after all, he worked at the Great Paris Police Hall for over twenty years, so he was well aware of Paris police’s tactics.
Such as:
Sending personnel to entice targets into crime and then arresting them based on that.
Infiltrating political groups, literary clubs, newspapers, and brothels to gather information or intentionally stir internal conflicts.
Fabricating witness statements, phony ledgers, and manipulated letters to frame others.
Planting documents like riot plans in victims’ residences as an excuse for searches.
Detaining suspects for weeks or even months without formal trial to destroy their social networks and mental state.
Deliberately allowing opposition organizations to grow, then clearing them in one swoop.
If Victor talked about Paris police’s expertise, he could indeed publish a tome.
In fact, he came today precisely for a publication.
However, this time he wasn’t here to expose the crimes of French police but to satisfy his vanity for lasting fame and fill his pockets.
"Take a look at how this book is written?"
Arthur took the thick manuscript from Victor’s hands, his fingers involuntarily feeling the texture of the leather cover, expensive and flamboyant, embossed with gold foil printing on the title: "Victor’s Memoirs" — Paris’s legendary detective, former Great Paris Police Hall leader, current detective agency head, Paris street legend.
"I originally wanted to call it ’From Criminal to Gentleman.’" Victor sat on the sofa, his tone filled with pride: "But the publisher said the name was too bland and not eye-catching. So, I changed it; now it’s loud enough, right?"
Arthur opened the manuscript and, while examining the autobiography, responded, "Has this book been published in Paris?"
"Yes, and it’s selling quite well." Victor grinned from ear to ear: "The copy you’re holding is the revised version, specially corrected by Mr. Balzac before I came to London."
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