Chapter 175 The One Who Understands You Best Is Always Your Enemy

"Oh, of course, please go ahead." Fouche said, stepping aside.

After all, he is only a small policeman in name. Being able to guard Necker here depends on the permission issued by Count Robert of the secret police.

The tall officer nodded and smiled at him, then came to the prisoner and took a closer look at the man with disheveled hair and unshaven beard. After confirming that he was Necker, he pretended to search him.

"We have searched it all, don't worry, there are no dangerous goods or valuable things." Fouche said from the side.

The officer turned to Necker's side, as if checking his trousers pocket, then leaned into his ear and whispered very quickly: "As long as you don't say anything, you will be rescued within three days. Then go to England."

Necker was startled. When he turned to look at the officer, the latter had already put on his gloves and walked towards the door: "No problem, I'll leave the rest to you."

When Fouche waited for him to leave, he immediately closed the door and signaled to his men: "Come on, move quickly!"

Necker's interrogation began that night.

The presiding judge was two police commissioners from the secret police, with Fouche and others listening on the sidelines - such an important case that alarmed the queen would obviously have to be handled by the royal family's "minions" secret police.

However, as the interrogation continued until daybreak, Necker said little.

Even when faced with things with conclusive evidence, he just looked at the presiding officer and roared indifferently, neither admitting nor denying, as if he was not a party at all.

The two presiding officers yawned tiredly and decided to take a short break.

Fouche ordered Prosper to keep an eye on Necker carefully, including the secret police, and was not allowed to leave at will. He took an assistant back to the cell on the third floor of the Bastille.

The police intelligence officer guarding outside the cell raised his hat and saluted: "Everything is normal, sir."

Fouche nodded, glanced into the room through the small window on the door, pulled up a chair, leaned against the door and took a nap.

It wasn't until noon that the sound of clattering dishes woke him up.

He squinted and saw an officer and two soldiers coming with meals.

Fouche's men immediately stepped forward and spoke a few words to the officer. The latter smiled and nodded, picked up the spare tableware, and took a bite of all the food one by one.

The person from the Police Information Department opened the door and motioned into the room: "Please come in."

The officer entered the room and placed sumptuous food on the table in front of several guards. However, no one noticed that when he picked up the plate of cream of pea soup, the nails of his thumbs were dipped in the soup. .

After the food was put away, the officer motioned to Necker, who was sitting stiffly on the sofa, and the woman and child huddled in the corner of the room: "Please have a meal."

Nearly an hour later, noisy shouts and a woman's scream suddenly came from the cell.

Fouche, who was still catching up on his sleep, suddenly opened his eyes, jumped up from his chair, and rushed into the house in a few steps.

Necker was seen lying on the sofa in pain, his body twitching from time to time, and black blood rolled along the stubble on his face and fell to the floor.

Fouche touched Necker's carotid artery, turned around and asked his subordinates: "Are you poisoned?"

The officer from the Police Intelligence Department pointed to the food on the table: "It should be, sir. He complained of abdominal pain shortly after eating, and that was it."

"You're quick enough." Fouche sneered and ordered the men around him, "Go and arrest the person who delivered the meal just now.

"Olan, find some animals to try these foods on."

"Yes, sir!"

…

Palais Royal.

The Duke of Orleans opened the door of a hall on the second floor and greeted with a smile the banking giants who had been staying here to discuss countermeasures: "Don't be so gloomy, gentlemen, the situation is not that serious.

"I suggest you all have a nice dinner first and maybe that will sort things out."

"Necker has also had transactions with you, why are you so relaxed?" The boss of Belanger Bank looked at him, "What method did you come up with?"

"You will know soon." The Duke of Orleans gestured to the corridor, "The restaurant is over here."

Earl Isaac saw something from his expression and said in surprise: "Have you really solved it?"

When the others saw the Duke of Orleans smiling silently, they immediately cheered: "Oh, God, you saved us all!"

"Great, it seems everything is fine..."

"I swear, you are the best and greatest Capet! [Note 1]"

The banking giants blew rainbow farts and saluted the Duke of Orleans one after another, stroking their chests. They were all secretly glad that it was so wise to let him be their backer in the first place!

At this moment, the butler Donadier hurried over and respectfully handed a small paper roll sealed with wax to the Duke of Orleans.

The latter proudly raised the paper roll to signal to everyone in the room, then peeled off the fire paint and slowly unfolded it.

However, when he saw the two lines of small words on the note, his expression suddenly darkened. He turned to the butler and asked, "Didn't Laviere say he has succeeded?!"

"Yes, that's what he said in the message he sent at noon." The housekeeper said tremblingly.

The Duke of Orleans tore the note into a dozen pieces and threw it at his feet: "How is this possible?"

The note was sent by his agent in the secret police. It contained only two sentences: Necker was tried in the afternoon and did not confess to other banks.

But Laviere told him that Necker had been poisoned at lunch!

Orleans suddenly remembered something and hurriedly pulled the butler and asked, "Has La Vieille been discovered?"

The butler didn't quite understand the situation and hurriedly bowed and said, "I'll send someone to inquire."

The Duke of Orleans closed the door of the hall with his backhand, walked back and forth twice in annoyance, and kept cursing in a low voice: "La Vieille, this idiot, why didn't he prepare more!"

He suddenly stopped and thought that no matter how Necker escaped the poisoning, he would probably no longer believe the lie of "saving him to England".

In other words, the dealings between Necker and the bank would probably be known to the royal family.

He pulled a chair over and sat down tiredly, feeling upset. What should he do? What should he do next?

He had already lost control of public opinion and the High Court, and his infiltration of the army was also wasted because of an inexplicable assassination. If he lost control of finance again, the Orleans family's challenge to the throne for more than a hundred years would inevitably end in his generation!

No, there must be a way. The Duke of Orleans wiped the sweat from his palms on his coat. What other power can I use...

The Count of Capefir, who was standing by, saw that the atmosphere suddenly became dull, and couldn't help but ask carefully: "So, are we going to have lunch now?"

...

Bastille.

In the cell on the third floor, Necker, who had changed into a white coat, shaved his beard, and wore a wig, stared at the other self lying on the ground with wide eyes, and his heart was full of fear.

If the police hadn't taken him to the small building opposite the Bastille for interrogation, he would have vomited blood and turned into a corpse.

Yes, last night Fouché put a death row prisoner here to pretend to be Necker. Thanks to Necker's messy hair and beard before, it was difficult to see the abnormality at a glance.

Joseph had long known that the Bastille was infiltrated like a sieve. Jeanne, who made the "necklace fraud" in history, could escape from here, not to mention an important target like Necker. So he ordered Fouché to set up a fake target to attract fire, and the real Necker was locked in a house on the roadside, which was very safe.

Necker suddenly thought of something and turned to Fouché and said anxiously: "Where are Susan and the children?!"

Susan is the name of his wife. In order to lure the killer to reveal his true colors, these policemen actually used his wife and children to cooperate with the imposter.

Fouche gestured to the inner room: "They are fine. Their food was personally delivered by my people."

Necker breathed a sigh of relief, looked at the corpse on the ground, and suddenly said in a cold voice: "This is just a scam you use to plot against me, right?"

The door was pushed open, and Prospere walked in, raising his hat to Fouche and saluted: "Sir, the man who delivered the food is called Carla, a lieutenant."

"Have you caught him?"

"He's dead."

Fouche kicked the sofa in frustration: "Damn it! How could he die? Who killed him?!"

"He was poisoned." Prospere said, "He's still breathing now, but he can't speak anymore."

Fouche glanced at Necker and said in a mocking tone: "Do you want to go and see? How did we poison an officer to plot against you.

"His Majesty the King has pardoned you. Who do you think wants your life the most now? "

Necker lowered his head dejectedly, and the last glimmer of hope in his heart was completely shattered.

Not long after, Joseph also rushed to the Bastille after hearing the news.

He listened to Fouche's brief introduction of the situation since yesterday, and first asked: "Is the assassin still alive now?"

"Sorry, Your Highness, he died two hours ago."

"So soon?" Joseph frowned, "Didn't you give him a gastric lavage?"

"Uh, what is gastric lavage?"

Joseph shook his head and sighed. It seems that gastric lavage has not been invented in this era. If the poisoned person can be given a gastric lavage immediately, at least he can survive tonight, and perhaps he can confess the mastermind behind the scenes.

"How much did Necker confess?"

Fouche lowered his head and said: "He has remained silent. He said that he would only tell more things if he agreed to be sentenced to exile."

Joseph sneered: "Dare to bargain? When that person comes, he will naturally confess honestly.

"Okay, go and do your work, and make sure you keep an eye on Necker."

"Yes, Your Highness."

After Fouché and the others left, Joseph looked at Bernard-René Jourdan de Launay, the commander-in-chief of the Bastille garrison, who was following him with a bitter face.

"Marquis Launay, do you know how important Necker is? Do you know how much impact it would have if he died?"

"This, Your Highness, I am really sorry. It was the negligence of my officers." Launay wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. He did not expect to alarm the royal family so quickly. Fortunately, Necker was not dead, otherwise his position would be difficult to keep.

Joseph rolled his eyes at him: "Is it the negligence of your 'men'?"

"Oh, no, no," Launay bowed repeatedly, "It's my negligence!"

Joseph nodded: "Well, I will report it to Her Majesty the Queen truthfully."

"Ah?" Launay panicked immediately, "Please don't do this, Your Highness! Please give me another chance..."

Joseph stopped and looked at him and said: "During this period, from the guards at the gate of the Bastille to the chefs and cleaners, all have been replaced by my people. Your officers and soldiers are forbidden to approach Necker's cell within a hundred steps."

"Okay, okay, I'll listen to you!"

"Also, you have half a month to find out the mastermind behind the murder of Necker."

"Yes, yes, I will definitely find that guy out!"

Joseph knew that ninety-nine percent of the people behind the scenes were from the Banking Association, so how could Luo Nai find out.

It's just that the Bastille has now become a sore point in the hearts of the French, and is often used to slander the royal family. He just took this opportunity to get some grip, and it would be much easier to deal with the Bastille later.

At night.

In the interrogation room on the second floor of the Bastille, Necker gritted his teeth and kept repeating, "I need the royal family's promise" and "I can only be sentenced to exile."

Suddenly, the door of the interrogation room was pushed open, and a familiar face appeared in front of him.

Necker was stunned for a moment and lost his voice: "Carona? Why are you here?!"

Kalona, ​​who was wearing a simple black coat, bowed to him casually and showed a friendly smile: "Mr. Necker, good evening! How long have we not seen each other? Well, since I was exiled two years ago. "

"Why are you here?" Necker repeated mechanically.

Carlona nodded to Fouche and others, then went straight to the seat of the presiding judge, sat down, and familiarly took the interrogation records and case files and looked at them.

After a moment, he looked up at Necker and smiled again: "His Royal Highness the Crown Prince asked me to be your chief judge. Mr. Necker, my old friend, do you feel surprised?"

"Why is that you……"

"Haha, we have been fighting openly and secretly for so many years. I am probably the person in the world who is most familiar with the things you have done." Kalona flipped the file, "Don't waste time, let's start with this transaction between you and Belanger Bank." Let the loan agreement begin."

"No, I need a promise of exile!"

"Well, let me guess, for this loan of 4 million livres, you should have signed two contracts with Belanger Bank." Kalona ignored him at all, his heart was filled with the pleasure of revenge, and his brain was running rapidly. All the suspicious details were pointed out one by one, and he used his many years of corruption experience to speculate, "Look, the government pays interest here. Although you have balanced the accounts, you have left clues about the flow of funds here..."

Necker listened to him talk for more than an hour, and his expression gradually changed from anger to shock. What Carlona said was more and more consistent with the facts, and in the end it was almost completely consistent. And only he and the directors of Belanger Bank knew about this!

"Well, it seems you have acquiesced." Kalona nodded with satisfaction and asked the clerk beside him, "Have you written it down?"

"Yes, Viscount Carlona."

"Very good. Let the royal police arrest people and check accounts according to this tomorrow. I believe something will be gained."

Necker's cold sweat suddenly rolled down his back...

The current monthly ticket for this book is 800, and there are still a few days left. The first month is about to end, and I don’t know if I can get more than 200 monthly tickets. Because I really want to get over a thousand monthly tickets this month! The young author begs readers to vote for this book more often!