The detention cells of the Paris Police Department headquarters were filled with the perpetual damp, moldy smell, the tar of cheap tobacco, and body odor.
The cold gas lamps hissed overhead, casting distorted and enormous shadows of the two "Lionel Sorels" from the adjacent cells onto the mottled stone walls.
One of the "Lionel Sorels" sat on a hard wooden bench, his back still straight. Although a little uneasy, he was not afraid.
Before he was led out of Baroness Alekseyevna's castle, Mr. Turgenev had already gotten into a carriage, rushing to the center of Paris at top speed.
In the other interrogation room, the fake "Poor Léonard" appeared much more dejected. The carefully mimicked aloofness and sarcasm on his face had long vanished, replaced only by terror and vexation.
He muttered curses under his breath, cursing the purple idiot who had ruined his plans, cursing the damned "Lamarck," and even more, cursing his own bad luck—
Just one step away! After tonight, he would have been able to take the 1 million francs promised by the Baroness for the purchase of the "Lavender Estate" and flee!
He knew that appearing in public was risky, but after careful calculation and an understanding of human nature, he still decided to take this "perilous leap"—
Only by fully satisfying and completely releasing Baroness Alekseyevna's vanity could she completely lower her guard, and only then could the 1 million francs be successfully obtained!
For these 1 million francs, he even reluctantly gave up the earlier 300,000 francs, allowing those glittering "Louis d'or" to be donated to Sorbonne.
He was certain that even if someone recognized him, as long as they weren't too close to the Baroness, they would surely wait to watch the show and laugh, rather than warn her immediately.
But who could have imagined that the real "Lionel Sorel" would also be at the ball!
Didn't he consider himself above it all, never attending ladies' salons? Why would he attend this boring masquerade—and also attract the damned police…
Outside the gate of the detention area, Inspector Claude, dressed in an 18th-century general's uniform, and Lefèvre, in purple velvet aristocratic attire, both sat at a table by the door with gloomy faces, neither wanting to look at the other.
The chaos, screams, the Baroness's roar, and the unexpected gunshot at the masquerade had all cast a dark cloud over them.
Originally, catching either a "love swindler" or the "author of a poisonous book" would have been a glorious achievement, but now the situation was too complicated…
At this moment, the outermost iron gate was roughly pushed open, and Chief Gigo walked in, his face grim.
His sharp gaze first lingered on Lefèvre for a moment, filled with unconcealed disgust and annoyance—
This fool not only acted on his own but also fired a gun at the Baroness's ball, practically shaming the Police Department across all of Europe!
Claude was not much better; although he caught the swindler, he still offended the Baroness.
While the ladies could socially ignore Baroness Alekseyevna's anger, how could the Baroness not have connections in high places?
Who would bear the pressure then? It would be him, the Chief!
Moreover, the two people they had arrested were one useless and one troublesome!
He had long been aware of this swindler; the provincial case files piled up like mountains, but those cases were far from Paris, and the victims were mostly provincial middle-class people who couldn't cause much of a stir.
Although Baroness Alekseyevna had also been swindled by him, for the sake of aristocratic dignity, she would most likely "handle it quietly."
There were not one thousand, but eight thousand such swindlers in Paris—the only difference being whether they were caught or not. Parisians had long been accustomed to it, and only some scandalous tabloids would treat it as a novelty.
So, catching this swindler was not much of an achievement for him as Chief.
Then there was the real Lionel, who was much more troublesome.
He was a young literary star, the darling of Sorbonne, a junior publicly praised by Victor Hugo… It was said he was with Turgenev when he was arrested.
Although Chief Gigo knew nothing about literature, he had certainly heard of this name.
He didn't quite believe Lionel Sorel was the author of "the decadent city," for a simple reason:
Firstly, he was too young. The extremely imaginative and morally transgressive erotic descriptions in the novel could only have been written by a middle-aged philanderer.
As a seasoned reader and practitioner of "the decadent city," Chief Gigo was quite certain of this.
Secondly, according to the timeline, when "the decadent city" was published, Lionel had already written "the old guard"—in France, a young writer with a promising future, no matter how stupid, would not do something so self-destructive.
Garibuer's line in the letter, "Find Lionel, and you'll find "An Honest Parisian,"" should mean that this Lionel knew clues about "An Honest Parisian," or even knew him.
For example, what if "An Honest Parisian" was a promiscuous professor at Sorbonne who couldn't control his urge to express himself?
He was still thinking about how to use this sentence to maximize his own interests, but he didn't expect the foolish Lefèvre to secretly act and arrest someone directly, and in plain sight.
Although Chief Gigo was not a "man of action," being well-versed in office politics, he immediately sniffed out Lefèvre's true intentions hidden within.
Only by arresting "An Honest Parisian" in plain sight could he become a star of the Police Department, thereby gaining the favor of Bishop Gibel, and even attracting the attention of His Excellency the Minister of Interior.
If Lionel Sorel really was "An Honest Parisian," then the credit would truly belong to Lefèvre…
And to touch this Sorel? Gigo seemed to already see the sharp editorials in "Le Figaro" and the angry joint letters from the professors at Sorbonne!
"Chief!" Lefèvre, seeing Gigo, was like seeing a savior. He pointed to the detention cell inside the door: "It's him! I caught "An Honest Parisian"! The author of that vulgar book, "the decadent city"!"
Chief Gigo showed a hint of a sarcastic smile: "Oh? How can you be so sure?"
Lefèvre was instantly speechless, and after a long while, he stammered: "My informant told me… If you just let me search his house, I'm sure I'll find evidence!"
Gigo sharply stopped his subordinate who was still trying to shout: "Enough! Lefèvre! Look at yourself now, do you still look like a police officer? You're shaming all of us! Now, you, get out!"
Lefèvre's face changed several times, and in the end, he could only lower his head and say: "Sorry, Your Excellency…" Then he left the detention cell dejectedly.
Chief Gigo waited until Lefèvre's footsteps were completely inaudible before looking at Claude with a complex expression—at this moment, the Inspector was wearing a general's uniform, equally ridiculous, but at least not ugly.
His actions tonight had certainly caused some trouble for him as Chief, but at least it wasn't intentional, and in that regard, he was much more pleasing to the eye than the fat, cunning Lefèvre.
Thinking of this, Chief Gigo walked up to Claude and solemnly said to him: "Congratulations, Claude, you not only caught a swindler who was active nationwide, but you also caught "An Honest Parisian"!"
Claude: "Hmm!?"