"Viscount Plamr," or rather sr in disguise, soon beca a sensation in Vienna's elite social circles. In just a few days, he had cented his reputation as a wealthy, extravagant, and sociable newcor to the comrcial scene. Given his honed skills in manipulation, winning over Vienna's rchants proved far easier than his earlier success at Versailles.
Many Viennese rchants eagerly sought business with the "rich and generous" Viscount. His residence was constantly bustling with visitors, and even Baroness Waldner went so far as to beco his mistress.
Yet, the "Viscount" seed to have a peculiar preference for French goods. He spoke passionately about how French products were dominating markets across Europe and openly dismissed small deals. Any transaction below 100,000 florins was beneath his notice.
In Austria, admiration for French goods was common, so his behavior did not raise suspicion.
Soon, his new Viennese friends eagerly introduced him to French suppliers, including Baron Graz's Manharts Trading Company, Erwin Lenner's caravan, and Stock Borrasnia's trade network.
A Week Later
At "Viscount Plamr's" lavish mansion, Calonne sifted through the newly gathered information, a faint smile spreading across his face.
"All the individuals capable of supplying French goods worth over 100,000 florins only began placing orders in the last two months. Beyond them, even the Mokebruno caravan, which traditionally deals heavily in French goods, has purchased less than 40,000 florins' worth.
"This indicates that French goods do not have the spectacular sales figures or market prospects being touted. If they did, key players like the Mokebruno caravan would not remain indifferent."
Nearby, sr, bedecked in Paris' latest fashion and adorned with eight sparkling gemstone rings, raised his brows in approval. "Your insight is remarkable, Viscount. You always grasp the key issue instantly, and I—"
sr caught Calonne's icy glare mid-sentence and imdiately shrank back, abandoning his lofty deanor. After days of portraying the Viscount, he'd beco a little too imrsed in the role.
With a sheepish chuckle, he adopted a more subdued tone. "And I've noticed sothing during my chats with Viennese nobles: nearly all those placing substantial orders with France have connections to a man nad Kleistiel.
"Graz is his steward's brother-in-law, Lenner worked for his caravan for over a decade, and Borrasnia manages his business interests in Serbia."
Calonne was genuinely impressed by sr's abilities. The man spent his days charming aristocrats, and they willingly divulged secrets to him that had eluded the Intelligence Bureau's lengthy investigations.
"This is indeed suspicious," Calonne remarked, turning to Intelligence Bureau officer Captain Descharettes. "You should investigate the connections between these other buyers and Kleistiel."
"I'll see to it, Viscount Calonne."
sr added, "Also, these individuals all refused my offers, even when acquaintances vouched for .
"In fact, I had Baron Waldner negotiate with Erwin Lenner on my behalf. Lenner agreed to sell goods but demanded full prepaynt and refused to provide his bank account details."
Calonne smirked coldly. "A transparent attempt to dupe amateurs."
sr nodded. "It's quite peculiar. They advertise heavily in newspapers yet show no eagerness to sell their goods.
"I've found no evidence of successful transactions with anyone else either."
Captain Descharettes stood and solemnly stated, "I believe we now have enough to submit a report to His Highness."
anwhile, sr's thoughts drifted wistfully to the charming Baroness Waldner and her alluring bedroom antics. He clicked his tongue in regret.
Notre Da, Paris
Joseph sat in the front row, hands folded in a posture of prayer, though his attention was far from Archbishop Beaumont's sermon. Leaning slightly toward Mirabeau behind him, he whispered, "Wine stocks shouldn't be an issue, given their long shelf life. As for the Iron and Steel Association, can they help manage the situation?"
It was Pentecost, and Queen Marie had insisted Joseph attend the grand mass. As a result, his office had temporarily relocated to the cathedral.
Mirabeau replied in hushed frustration, "The competition among ironworks is fierce.
"All factory owners fear losing market share if they slow production, so even the threat of penalties from the Iron and Steel Association hasn't deterred them."
Joseph frowned.
Earlier, Mirabeau had reported that factory owners—other than those wholly controlled by the Industrial Developnt Fund—were blatantly ignoring orders to reduce production. Even without financial support from the Fund, they were willing to mortgage their factories and take bank loans to secure German and Italian contracts.
This was the deep-seated flaw of capitalists: an insatiable pursuit of profit, heedless of potential catastrophe.
Joseph sighed. "How many orders have been fulfilled so far?"
"Most factories have completed about a quarter of their orders, while a few more efficient ones are nearing a third," Mirabeau replied promptly.
Joseph began weighing the possibility of using administrative or tax asures to forcibly slow production.
According to Mirabeau's earlier estimates, foreign orders over the past two and a half months totaled 30 to 40 million francs—far beyond what the Industrial Developnt Fund could sustain.
If these orders fell through, it could devastate the Fund and countless factories.
However, resorting to administrative or tax asures would also wreak havoc on France's market order, at minimum driving investors away from industrial production.
At that mont, Fouché crouched as he approached, discreetly handing Joseph a report. "Your Highness, this just arrived from Vienna."
He then scurried back to his seat under Archbishop Beaumont's withering glare.
Joseph offered Beaumont an apologetic smile before quietly opening the report. Inside was Captain Descharettes' account of their activities in Vienna and Calonne's conclusions: the orders were highly likely to fail, and paynts for the goods might never materialize.
"So, it's just as I suspected," Joseph muttered darkly, handing the report to Mirabeau.
After scanning it, Mirabeau's expression turned grim. "Your Highness, with all due respect, even if we show this report to the factory owners, I doubt they'll agree to halt production."
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