Chapter 214: The French Literary Circle
Chapter 212 The French Literary Circle
Bayswater district, in the parlor of Arthur’s mansion.
Dumas, Arthur and Vidocq were sitting at the living room table.
Arthur poured tea for Vidocq while quietly listening to the criminal investigator, who was regarded as the best in the world, tell his story.
“I’m not really as legendary as the guys think, and since you’ve read my published Memoirs, you should also understand that I’ve been a no-nonsense little shit since I was five or six years old.
Of course, it had more or less to do with my own brother. Our family owned a bakery in Ostend, and my brother and I used to steal money from the store when we were kids.
When my father found out about this behavior, he was furious and sent my brother to a tailor’s store in Lille as an apprentice, while I escaped because of my age and my mother’s pleas.
But I did not repent, and I became more and more violent. When I couldn’t steal money from the store, I stole silverware from my family and played a double act with my friends, pretending to kidnap myself to ask for ransom.
But my parents caught me out that time, and I even went to jail for the first time because of it; I should have been locked up for two weeks if I remember correctly.”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but snicker, “Mr. Vidocq, you have to be glad that you were born in France, if it was in our place, you would have to be exiled to Australia even if you don’t make it to the gallows for these crimes.”
Vidocq laughed out loud and said, “Exile to Australia? In that case, I can’t say it’s really what I wanted. I was just a thirteen or fourteen year old asshole when I stole two thousand francs from my family and tried to run away to America. Before I even left France, I was swindled out of all my money. During that time, I had to make a living by pretending to be a midget and cannibal from the West Indies in a circus.”
Arthur asked, “And how did you then leave the circus to go to Paris?”
Hearing this, Vidocq was a little embarrassed but vaguely amused, and he raised his eyebrows and laughed, “It’s quite a shameful thing to say, but it’s been so many years since then that it’s kind of an anecdote when I think about it now. The reason why I was kicked out of the circus was because I had an affair with the headman’s wife.
It was a beautiful young lady, and she was the one who kindly took me in when I had no food to eat. Looking back now, of all the women I’ve met in my life, she’s probably the only one who was genuinely nice to me.
As for the others, such as the Parisian actress, or the wife who came to me to marry me without telling me she was pregnant with someone else’s child, although we had a happy time. But they all left me in succession when I was down and out.”
Arthur took a sip of tea and spoke, “Although I may upset you if I say this, I think formalizing a relationship and being a lover are two completely different concepts. The former requires a material foundation, while in the latter neither person is responsible, so they just need to get together and play. If that circus wife were married to you, you would more than likely feel the same way about her as you do about actresses and their wives.”
Vidocq leaned back in his chair with a piece of dried bread in his mouth as he laughed aloud, “Young man, don’t you find life boring when you have to put things so bluntly?”
Arthur smiled and nodded, “I do feel that way on occasion.”
Vidocq took off his hat and placed it on the edge of the table, “But seeing things straight is really one of the indispensable qualities of a good detective. A while back I was investigating a theft in Paris where company money had gone missing, and do you know how I solved the case?”
Arthur smiled and spoke up, “I’d love to hear your thoughts on such a case if you don’t mind giving me your opinion.”
Vidocq spoke, “When I arrived at that company, I first questioned the people involved in handling the money, then I pointed to a 45 year old bookkeeper and said that this woman was the culprit.
No one present at the time believed me, but after subsequent investigation, I was proven right. We found a large amount of money and jewelry of unknown origin in that bookkeeper’s home.”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but be curious, “You were able to make a judgment just by knowing a few people involved in the case? How exactly did you see that?” Vidocq slapped his thighs and laughed, “I didn’t see it, but smelled it. It’s like the early experience I was just telling you about, it was from that circus wife that I understood – a woman who smells of expensive perfume at nine o’clock in the morning must be after some man. And if the woman has a lover, that lover is her motive for stealing money.
This was also proved by the fact that the reason why that company bookkeeper woman was stealing the company’s property was all for the purpose of providing for a good-for-nothing, extravagant white boy.”
Hearing this, Arthur also couldn’t help but laugh, “Aren’t you living more understandably than I am? If that is the case, why do you still write yourself in the book as if you don’t understand anything?”
Vidocq pulled out his ear with his little finger: “There is no way, if I don’t write about it, how can I sell my Memoirs? Do you want me to point my nose at the readers in the book and yell at them – you selfish people, I’ve seen through your underwear?
Come on, it’s not like I’m on a real case, so I have to leave some room for fantasy. This way, they gain a sense of security and fulfillment, I make a lot of money, and everyone has a bright future.”
Arthur had thought that this big shot in the French police world would surely be a serious man, but after making contact, he realized that Mr. Vidocq was obviously much more pleasant to be around than he had imagined.
However, on second thought, how could a guy who could be popular in both black and white in France be a person who puts on a show and doesn’t eat the food of the world?
Of course, Arthur didn’t dare to believe all of Vidocq’s words.
After all, he did not forget how the other side in the end, this is a in order to get rid of the hanging, not hesitate to take the former mob brother to the Paris Police Department to the letter of complaint of the ruthless man.
If Arthur remembered correctly, Vidocq was personally involved in 811 arrests in his first year in charge of the Paris Crime Investigation Bureau. On average, at least two brothers were sacrificed every day, and handling cases with this efficiency was a testament to Vidocq’s social and investigative skills.
François Vidocq was certainly not a bad man in the absolute sense of the word, but he wasn’t exactly a good man either. Hurray, though, that Arthur was likewise such a man.
Perhaps, as Vidocq had said, having two faces was one of the qualities necessary to be able to do intelligence work?
Arthur and Vidocq were talking happily, when suddenly, Dumas, who was sitting on the opposite chair reading Hugo’s letter, suddenly frowned and looked up and asked, “Mr. Vidocq, do you and Mr. Hugo also mean the same thing? Trying to persuade me to return to my country?”
Vidocq leaned back in his chair and said, “I won’t give you any advice, and it’s up to you whether you go back or not. You should also know that I have been suppressed by the Greater Paris Police Department ever since Marc Duplessis was appointed as its director after Louis XVIII’s death, which is why I resigned in a fit of rage later on.
After this July Revolution, I wouldn’t have been willing to rejoin the force if it weren’t for the repeated invitations from the new director. I’ve been away from the police and the circle of power for so long, so I’m not sure what the attitude of the top brass towards you really is.
But since Hugo dared to persuade you to go back, it’s more than likely that he’s gotten wind of something, right? If you find his words credible, and you’re not used to staying in London, then you could also consider thinking about going back to Paris.”
When Dumas heard this, he glanced again at the letter in his hand, and after much hesitation, he solemnly returned, “Of course I long to return to the soil of France, but I don’t think it should be now. I have just made an agreement with a literary journal in London for a year’s contribution, and if I go now it will be considered a breach of contract.”
Hearing this, Vidocq said without regret, “Is that so? That would be a pity. But I can understand you. Writers, once they start writing, they can’t let go of the pen until it’s finished. Honoré is like that too.”
At that, he pulled out a book from the small bag he was carrying and placed it on the table, “I didn’t bring you any gifts this time, so I brought you a copy of Honoré. So I brought you a copy of Onore’s just-published masterpiece to quench your thirst, and it’s also a way for you to not be too lonely in a foreign land, and at the very least, you can still see literature from your hometown. Incidentally, this new book contains deeds based on me.”
Arthur stared at the book’s dust jacket, and although he didn’t recognize much French, he had little trouble simply spelling the name.
Author:Honoré de Balzac.
As for the title of the book, Arthur couldn’t read it, but he guessed that it was mostly The Human Comedy.
(End of chapter)