The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1003: Chapter 60: Fishing Enforcement

When deception can win, never rely on violence.

——Niccolo Machiavelli “The Prince”

The street scenes of Paris appeared particularly charming in the twilight glow, but the people in the detective agency had no time to admire it. Everyone’s attention was almost entirely captivated by Arthur’s account of the events on the day of the explosion at the Kaidao Sai Mansion and the ensuing chase for the assassin.

Perhaps for a pig farmer in the countryside of York, telling a lie with open eyes is a challenge as hard as climbing to the sky.

But for Sir Arthur Hastings, who received a history education at the University of London, spent three years as a detective at Scotland Yard, and published the “Hastings Case Files,” storytelling has almost become a professional habit.

All historical records are full of stories, and the original authors, such as Gizo and Thiers, deeply believe in the so-called inevitability and progressiveness they talk about. They criticize historical scholars from centuries ago while proclaiming their own supreme truth. Little do they know that after a few centuries, they too will be branded as reactionaries by their successors.

But they need not complain much, because the successors will also be slapped down on the beach by the successors of their successors, generation after generation, each selling different stories as reactionaries.

As for Scotland Yard, the administrative documents there are filled with lies. To flaunt themselves before Parliament and garner more funding from the budget, senior officers spend more effort on manipulating statistics than on law enforcement. Yet even so, Arthur can still proudly claim that Scotland Yard remains the cleanest and most efficient department in the British Government.

But this isn’t because the senior officers are more talented than the old bureaucrats of the various departments on Whitehall Street, but simply because Scotland Yard was established relatively recently, with a simpler departmental structure. From the highest Lord Luo Wan to the most ordinary officers, there aren’t many levels in between. So even if the officers want to be bureaucratic, they can’t be.

And when it comes to the “Hastings Case Files,” that’s another matter entirely; this line of work thrives on storytelling. Isn’t it simple to prepare and make up stories?

Arthur sat in an armchair by the window, holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, with a slightly thoughtful expression on his face.

He didn’t entirely conceal all his experiences, but merely left out the parts about the Royalist secret hideout and made some slight alterations to his chase route.

He devoted much of the narrative to describing the assassin’s attire and being a former detective himself, he was well aware of the habitual flaws in this profession.

For a detective, especially a famous one like Victor, they often think of themselves as very smart, and indeed, they are, which consequently makes them behave very arrogantly due to their intelligence.

Precisely because of such personality traits, detectives usually do not want to overlook any traces, sometimes even getting so caught up in revealing the case from subtle details to shock the public that they neglect the clues that are right in front of them.

“A sheepskin coat and long hair, an outdated fashion style…”

Victor leaned against the fireplace in a deep grey coat with a frayed collar, thoughtfully watching the coffee boiling over the campfire. A low voice emanated from his mouth.

“If this outfit isn’t a deliberate disguise, then those assassins should indeed be rural farmers. Moreover, they aren’t farmers from the Paris suburbs, but from the provinces. However, in my career, I have seen too many unbelievable cases, each hiding an unknown truth. If the truth appears obvious, it only means we are still some distance away from the mastermind.”

Arthur took a drag on his cigarette, gently pressing down on his wide-brimmed hat: “I agree as well. Did Jusco bring you any new clues today?”

Victor twisted his neck as he responded: “Not many clues. They found something in the remnants of the carriage after the explosion. That carriage was confirmed to have been rented from Sebastian’s carriage service, but all the renter information at the service was forged. In Paris, I only know of five people who can forge documents so realistically. Two of them have already faced the Guillotine, one is currently serving a sentence in prison, and another one was scared out of their wits and fled to who knows where.”

Great Dumas counted on his fingers: “That’s only four, so what about the fifth?”

“The fifth?” Smoke puffed out from Victor’s nose in two streams: “Alexander, the fifth is standing right in front of you. Do you think I managed to escape from prisons so easily when I was young? Breaking out of prison doesn’t rely solely on bribing prison guards, being recklessly audacious, and meticulous. When all else fails, sometimes I had to play along with procedural justice.”

Heine asked: “If you could break out of prison by forging documents, why is there a forger of equal skill still serving time in Brest Prison?”

“Isn’t it simple?” Arthur took a sip of coffee: “That’s because Mr. Victor later worked as a policeman, so he definitely blocked that route later on.”

Great Dumas laughed after hearing this: “Mr. Victor, I must say, what you did was quite uncharitable. You took a shortcut but won’t let others follow suit.”