The Shadow of Great Britain

264: Chapter 177 The True Meaning of Literary Magazines 264: Chapter 177 The True Meaning of Literary Magazines “So, Mr.

Victor, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to share your invaluable experience in the field of criminal investigation.

I think Scotland Yard and all the citizens of London will benefit from the cases you shared today.”

Victor buttoned up his hat, stood up, and said, “As I told you, solving cases isn’t really that difficult, you just have to understand one thing—things are seldom what they seem, just like disguising skim milk as cheese.

I don’t even need to tell you this, lad.

You might’ve grasped this point even earlier than I did.

When I was twenty, I was still squatting in jail every day.”

After listening, Arthur simply smiled and said, “And the best way to get those criminals to confess isn’t harsh enforcement, but by seeking justice for them.”

Upon hearing this, Victor couldn’t help but look at Arthur with even greater appreciation, extending his hand to pat the young man’s shoulder.

“You’ve truly understood the essence.

If someone is willing to forsake a good life and undertake something under the threat of the guillotine, apart from a few aberrations, most do it because they harbor some indescribable secrets.

As long as you can discover the secret behind their actions and solve their problems, they certainly won’t mind sacrificing their lives, for the moment they commit the act, this type of criminal has already resolved to give up their life.

You’ve understood so much so early, I’m sure you will become a good police officer.

What you need to do right now is to be careful not to get sucked into the whirlpool of power struggles.

I was at a disadvantage in this regard, and that’s why I’m ostracized at the Paris police headquarters.”

Upon hearing that, Arthur could only smile helplessly, “It’s the same all over the world, it seems there is no difference between France and Britain in this regard.

Mr.

Victor, you’re telling me this now is too late.

In our line of work, we often have no choice in the matter.”

At these words, Victor burst into laughter, “That’s also true.

Looking back, even an old thing like me, at fifty, solving a few cases could make them jealous.

It would be impossible for a young man of twenty like you not to be suppressed.

They say that gold always shines, but this saying is actually nonsense.

The reality is, gold will be ostracized wherever it goes.

Of course, there are exceptions; that is if the gold belongs to a bank, in other words, you have to have connections.”

Arthur picked up his notebook packed with notes, stood up, and escorted Victor to the door.

“Today, I’ve learned a lot from you, whether it’s using walnut dye to darken the skin, making fake blisters with wax, or imitating facial blemishes with clumps of coffee grounds.

Such skills in disguise are incomparably superb.

Where did you learn these techniques?”

Holding his cane and adjusting his hat brim, Victor began, “Some of them I figured out on my own, while others I learned from a lover.

You shouldn’t forget that one of my former lovers was a well-known actress in Paris.

Even though back then she kept me around only as a plaything to relieve her boredom, I did learn quite a lot from her.

Nevertheless, what I taught you today can hardly be considered the most advanced.

I remember you mentioned there is a concert at the Coburg Theatre this weekend, right?

When that day comes, I’ll show you something more sophisticated.”

After saying this, Victor straightened his clothes and walked with composed steps toward Hyde Park, across the street.

But his last remarks left Arthur with furrowed brows, “Show me something more sophisticated?”

He turned back to look at Great Dumas sitting at the dining table, sipping coffee while reading “The Human Comedy,” and said, “Alexander, I think it’s best you find somewhere to hide this Sunday.

Although Mr.

Victor had no direct intention of taking you away today, you can never be sure what’s on his mind.

If he decides to barge in with his men when I’m not home on Sunday and forcefully take you back, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you in time.”

To this, Great Dumas waved his hand indifferently and replied, “Oh, come on.

Knowing him as I do, he’s too lazy to bother with such things.

Mr.

Victor is a complete rebel through and through.

He hates the Republicans, despises the Royalists, and prefers to act on his own intuition.

If he truly wished to obey orders, he would be the chief of the Paris police headquarters right now, rather than leaving it to someone else, wouldn’t he?”

Arthur laughed when the Great Dumas brought up the topic, asking, “You didn’t even mention it, and I almost forgot.

While Mr.

Victor was discussing the period of the Great Revolution in France, you neither objected nor admonished him.

Alexandre, this isn’t like you.

Aren’t you the self-proclaimed republican warrior?

Mr.

Victor was disparaging the Republic so much, how could you have no response at all?”

The Great Dumas rolled his eyes and replied, “Of course, I wanted to react, but it depends on the circumstance.

The Governor Joseph Lebon that Mr.

Victor mentioned was indeed an absolute bastard.

Just because someone’s parrot could say ‘Long live the King,’ he would chop off their head.

Everyone accused of being a noble was sent to the guillotine.

Furthermore, he incited the locals to denounce and expose each other.

A small place like Ostend turned out several hundred nobles.

Lebon wasn’t engaged in revolution; he was killing for pleasure and seizing property.”

“It’s precisely because there were so many such people in the Great Revolution that it ultimately failed.

In matters of republicanism, I agree more with Mr.

Hugo—above the absolutely right revolution, there is an absolutely right humanity.

People should not commit evil in the name of doing good.

Toppling the monarchy isn’t about erecting the guillotine permanently, knocking off the Crown, but sparing the head.”

Hearing this, Arthur lifted his teacup and took a sip, “So is this the reason you opened the arsenal and bombed the Tuileries Palace?”

The Great Dumas glared, “Opening the arsenal was for the revolution.

It’s only after the revolution succeeds that I would consider sparing heads.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “What if the King’s head is pierced by a bullet before the revolution succeeds?”

Shrugging his shoulders, the Great Dumas replied, “Then he’d just be out of luck, and I only promised not to hold him accountable.”

Arthur chuckled, “You certainly make a clear distinction.”

With that, he turned the conversation, “But after listening to Mr.

Victor today, I realized that the escape of the main character, Edmond Dantes, in ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’, is it possible…”

The Great Dumas coughed with a flushed face, “I did indeed draw from some of Mr.

Victor’s real-life experiences, but I’ve also done some artistic processing.

You cannot simply conclude that I plagiarized.

What’s most important is that Mr.

Victor doesn’t mind us playwrights drawing from his experiences.

He enjoys being written into books.

Balzac, Hugo, and I—as his friends—he shared his legendary experiences with us and also passed on some practical criminal knowledge.

In return, we naturally write him into our books and help to make his name known.”

Arthur nodded upon hearing this, “That character is very French indeed.

But since Mr.

Victor does not mind others using his experiences to write books, does this mean I can do the same?”

“Of course, you can,” said the Great Dumas, raising an eyebrow, “but you’d better add some of your own experiences.

If it’s just a carbon copy, everyone might as well go read Mr.

Victor’s memoirs, since it’s not like there’s no English edition of them.

Besides, I think you should take this opportunity to write a book.

Magazine space is still available, and they need more articles to fill it.

We don’t expect too much from you as a beginner, at least be better than Eld.”

With that, Arthur returned to the desk and sat down.

He mulled over it for a long while, then his eyes inadvertently caught the glimpse of a crow mask placed at the far end of the bookshelf.

Looking at the white sheet of paper before him and then at ‘The Human Comedy’ held in the hands of the Great Dumas, a flash of inspiration struck him.

In an instant, Arthur seemed to discover the true use of the literary magazine.

Perhaps he could use this magazine, which was certain to be a hit, to achieve something more important than making money, something even he couldn’t accomplish as an inspector at Scotland Yard.

Arthur dipped his quill in the inkwell twice, and, with a normally steady arm that hesitated for a long time, he finally began to shakily pen down his thoughts.

The Great Dumas, sitting beside him, looked over and saw that the paper had a new, eye-catching title—”The Hastings Case Files: The Specter from St.

Giles.”