If feeling a bit indulgent, one might also order a dessert after the al, perhaps a slice of French mousse cake or a plate of macarons made with almond cake and cream. During this leisurely ti, the coffeehouse was filled with laughter and chatter, with people enjoying both the food and life.
Sitting in the coffeehouse waiting for guests, Victor saw several familiar figures alighting from a carriage outside. The 55-year-old legendary detective greeted his uneasy friend sitting beside him before pushing open the coffeehouse door to welco them.
Although older, Victor’s physique remained as strong as ever. Arthur grabbed the hand of the Security Departnt head, who was as robust as an ox, and joked, "Mr. Victor, long ti no see. Honestly, I once wanted to recruit you to work at Scotland Yard. Little did I expect that you’re still firmly in place at the Great Paris Police Hall, while I’m already out in London."
Victor took off his hat and said, "My friend, your luck is much better than mine. I already heard about your situation from the coconut tree. What happened to you isn’t being ousted, it’s being put on ice to rise again in the future. The gentry in London must still appreciate you; otherwise, they wouldn’t have sent you to Hanover."
Arthur responded with a smile, "Are you consoling ? If given a choice, who would want to leave the center of power? Saying it’s putting on ice, but everyone knows, the bigwigs are very forgetful. If I lead an uneventful life in Hanover, they might forget there’s such a person in the British administrative apparatus within a few months."
Victor shrugged and said, "That’s still better than being ordered out of the Security Departnt like , right? The worst part is, they originally promised a retirent pension of 500 Francs per month, but this money stopped after just five months."
Arthur was about to push open the coffeehouse door, but upon hearing this, he couldn’t help but turn his head and ask, "What happened to you?"
"Sigh..." Victor sighed and called out to Great Dumas and Louis, "Gentlen, co in and have a coffee. We can talk about the stories slowly; anyway, I don’t have much to do now. If you want, I can chat with you all afternoon. But I have to leave in the evening because I have a banquet to attend with my friend."
Victor led them to sit inside the coffeehouse. His friend, who ca along, smiled excitedly, seeing the new faces, "Good morning, gentlen. I have long admired your illustrious nas."
Arthur observed this gentleman, who was dressed in black, with traditional French chest decorations on his coat. The gold watch chain on his hand gave a heavy impression.
Overall, at first glance, he didn’t seem to be of noble birth but more like a local squire from so remote town or a sudden nouveau riche who had stumbled upon a windfall.
Victor imdiately guessed what Arthur was thinking. Whether in London or Paris, people in the detective profession always have this habit of speculating about the background of strangers.
But today, he wasn’t in the mood to play guessing gas with Arthur and directly revealed the truth to the guests.
"Let introduce you; this is Mr. Samson, a well-known executioner, or to put it more plainly, he is currently the top executioner in Paris, having been in this line of work for over forty years."
At this, Victor made a joke, patting Samson on the shoulder and laughing heartily, "When I was head of the Security Departnt, I always kept him busy. Samson, don’t hold it against !"
Samson was sowhat embarrassed by Victor’s remark and softly explained to the distinguished guests, "Gentlen, don’t take Mr. Victor’s words too seriously. He likes to tease people."
Seeing this, Victor jested, "Samson is quite nice, except dining with him always feels a bit strange. He’s not very good at socializing, and his occupation as an executioner limits his social interactions to just work and ho. This is a French tradition, and his family has been in this profession for five generations."
Seeing Samson’s anxious face, Arthur laughed and helped him out, "Alright, Mr. Victor, I believe Mr. Samson is a good man. He doesn’t enjoy killing; he’s simply doing his job, fulfilling his duties as a tool of the law."
Hearing this, Samson felt he had found a kindred spirit and nodded gratefully in agreent, "Yes, my colleagues and I are just tools; it’s the judicial system that kills them."
Great Dumas wasn’t interested in Samson’s profession. Instead, the plump man liked to inquire about specifics, "May I ask a few questions? Mr. Samson, how many heads have you cut off so far?"
Samson responded honestly, "Sir, about 360 or so."
Victor, stirring his coffee, added from the side, "One of them was Queen Mary Antoinette of Louis XVI."
Victor’s words caused a burst of exclamation from Arthur’s side.
It was only then they understood why Victor had brought Samson to the banquet.
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