Chapter 1054: Chapter 79 York Viper_3
“Hmm… what you said makes quite a bit of sense.”
Schneider put the letter back into his pocket, then said, “In any case, the minister has agreed to your request in principle, and is willing to allocate you so operational funds.”
“Agreed in principle?” Arthur naturally understood this diplomatic language, “So you’re saying this can be done, but if sothing goes wrong, I have to bear the responsibility myself.”
“You could interpret it that way.” Schneider explained, “After all, the minister has made up his mind to compete with tternich, but Britain and Austria haven’t reached the brink of open conflict. Therefore, if the matter of sponsoring Young Italy is exposed, it would be quite unseemly. At that point, the Foreign Office would have no choice but to regretfully attribute it to the personal actions of the diplomat.”
Arthur sipped the astringent wine: “I thought that after helping the Tory Party and shedding blood for the Whig Party, even if I didn’t have ritorious deeds, I at least labored hard. But in the end, I’m still not formally employed, and I get treated as a temporary worker if sothing goes wrong?”
Hearing this, Schneider comforted him, “Brother, that’s not the sa. You’ve made progress after all. In the past, working as a frontline patrolman at Scotland Yard, you could have been fired for mishandling a single case. Once you beca a senior officer, they would need a London riot-level event to take you down. And now, the premise to bring you down is secretly sponsoring Italian revolutionary organizations. You’re far more valuable now than you used to be. Brother, in just a few years, your stock has risen like this; no stock in all of Europe’s exchanges has such a strong montum. What more do you have to be dissatisfied with?”
Arthur stroked his chin thoughtfully, realizing that Schneider might be right. If there was any difference between the Pri Minister and a lowly clerk, aside from both making mistakes, it was that the forr’s mistakes were much more destructive. Schneider’s visit to Europe this ti was precisely to cover Viscount Palrston’s blunders.
Oh, in that sense, there’s another difference between the Pri Minister and a lowly clerk: the latter, though less harmful, has no one to cover for him when he fouls up.
Thinking of this, Arthur suddenly looked up at Schneider sitting opposite him, smiled abruptly, and clinked glasses with him: “August, with your comfort, I feel much better now.”
“What are you saying? Our relationship, we’ve suffered lashes and bathed together.” August sipped the wine, savoring the taste, “Not to ntion, you took backstage at the theater the day before yesterday and gave a few pairs of ballet shoes worn by actresses.”
Arthur feigned innocence and asked, “Just a few pairs of shoes, not worth much. As long as you like them. By the way, August, do they… fit you well?”
“Fit well? Arthur, what nonsense are you talking about? They’re for collecting!”
Schneider corrected him, “Do you know the price at which items like clothes and jewelry of popular actresses like Dovar and Ferrier sell in Paris?”
Hearing this, Arthur almost sprayed Schneider with the wine.
He never expected that even in those days, collectors were already in the ‘high-end business’ like this.
Arthur used a handkerchief to wipe the wine stains from his mouth: “Is that so? So these things have collectible value? I thought everyone usually collected old antiques, but they also want modern stuff.”
Schneider looked at Arthur with a ‘I don’t know what you even learned coming to Paris’ disdainful expression.
“Let put it this way: as soon as clothing and accessories have been worn by an actress, their price can imdiately double from their original, and the more popular the actress, the higher the price multiplier will be. For example, Ida Ferrier, those stylish ladies are often willing to pay a tenfold premium for rings she’s worn. As for her clothes, since clothes are inherently less expensive than jewelry, the markup for clothes is often higher—sotis it can be crazily up to a hundred tis more.”
“Ida Ferrier?”
Arthur was more than familiar with the na; the popular Parisian actress was the new lover of Great Dumas. The two were inseparable every day; Arthur initially couldn’t stand Great Dumas’s affectation and corny sweet talk, but on second thought, this fat man was essentially sleeping with a chest of gold every night.
In the face of gold’s temptation, Great Dumas’s behavior was much less off-putting compared to those big bankers and real estate moguls.
After all, what the fat man was doing was at least hard work.
Of course, these thoughts were rely musings in Arthur’s mind.
He certainly didn’t wish to be walking down a Paris street and suddenly be shot by a brawny man from an alley; Sir Arthur Hastings now had a sufficiently broad mind.
But before Arthur could shake off his jealousy of Great Dumas, another troubling thought struck him.
When he took Schneider to tour the theater backstage the day before yesterday, he should’ve stocked up a bit himself.
Indeed!
The old saying proves true—opportunities always favor those who are prepared, and he missed another clean and honest shot at making money.
This thought alone made Arthur lose his appetite for the Provençal stew on his plate, making it feel like chewing on an old shoe.
However, a thousand people have a thousand different tastes, and this might appeal to Eld.
The restaurant waiter approached Arthur, holding a notepad, and politely asked, “Sir, what flavor of soup would you like?”
Arthur waved absentmindedly, “Plain is fine.”
“Plain?” The waiter pondered without understanding, then shrugged: “Please wait a mont.”
Schneider looked at the little brother in front of him, lost in sadness, and began to talk about the work arrangents for the coming days, whether Arthur was listening or not.
“Mr. DelaSalle is even more enthusiastic than we expected. He’s not only provided our bank with premises but also helped with many compliance issues to make it look more legitimate and has brought in so new depositors. And Miss DelaSalle took by surprise; if this girl wasn’t a female, she might have been able to inherit her father’s business…”
At this point, Schneider’s speech suddenly paused.
He cautiously glanced at the entrance of the restaurant, where the tinkle of a bell sounded as a travel-worn Frenchman in his fifties was looking around as if searching for soone.
Schneider politely took out two silver coins from his pocket and placed them on the table. Then he stood up and said, “Arthur, this al’s on . It seems today isn’t suitable for talking business because soone else is looking for you. I’ll head back to the embassy, and in the afternoon, I’ll go see a play at the Saint Martin Gate Theater. If you need to find , you can go there. But don’t co looking for in the evening; I have so personal matters to attend to.”
Not long after Schneider left, Arthur heard the sound of quick footsteps approaching him.
Then, he felt a heavy slap on his shoulder, followed by Victor’s deep, resonant voice: “Bro, things aren’t looking good. We need to go to St. Pelagie Prison imdiately.”
Arthur composed himself, taking a deep breath: “What’s happened?”
“Soone’s dead.”
“Hmm?” Arthur turned his head to look at Victor, whose face was grim and frightening, “Who died?”
“Maxi Francos, the counterfeiter we’ve been looking for. He was found dead in prison this morning, and the cause of death hasn’t been disclosed yet.”
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