The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 182

Chapter 182: Industrial Espionage

The French Reserve Bank had now become the major shareholder of the seven banks associated with Marquis Ludo and his associates, allowing it to freely review their accounts.

Joseph recalled that a few months earlier, a teenage girl had mentioned that several French banks had made significant investments in the British textile industry. Intrigued, he investigated and found that these seven banks were indeed among them.

Marquis Ludo sprang from his chair in alarm.

Overwhelmed by the Necker case, he had completely neglected the British investments!

Even the vagrants in Paris knew that relations between France and Britain were strained. Britain had seized France’s colonies in India and North America. Now, he had to face the stark reality: investing French money in Britain, under the current circumstances, bordered on treason.

Wiping cold sweat from his brow, Marquis Ludo stared at the tips of his shoes and stammered, “Your Highness, this... this was a mistake. I’ll immediately withdraw all our investments from Britain.”

“Oh, and then deposit them entirely into the Industrial Development Fund,” Joseph remarked, flipping through the documents in his hands, and motioned for him to sit. “Hmm, with a fixed annual interest of 15%, plus profit sharing, the returns should exceed 20%.”

Marquis Ludo turned pale. Just as he was about to plead further, the Crown Prince added, “There’s no rush to withdraw such a lucrative investment, but it must be utilized effectively.”

Tentatively, Marquis Ludo asked, “Your Highness, you mean...?”

Joseph gestured again for him to sit down. “There’s no need to be so nervous.

“You and Count Kappfeil have invested over 20 million livres in Britain’s automated loom industry, making you the major shareholders.

“With such a substantial investment, it’s only natural for the shareholders to visit Britain and check on the operations, isn’t it?”

Marquis Ludo perched nervously on the edge of his chair and nodded. “Yes, that’s reasonable.”

“Good.” Joseph smiled. “I need you, as a shareholder, to bring back several of the latest automated looms from Britain, along with technicians familiar with their structure and workers trained to operate them.”

Marquis Ludo’s mouth fell open in shock. After a long pause, he managed to stammer, “You... you’re asking me to act as an industrial spy?”

Joseph waved dismissively. “That’s an improper way to phrase it. France has invested a large sum in Britain; we must verify whether the technology is as advanced as claimed.

“Oh, and I’ll assign personnel from the Royal Industrial Planning Bureau to accompany you. You just need to use your status as a shareholder to investigate the British factories. They’ll handle the rest.”

Having spent his entire life counting money in his bank, Marquis Ludo was paralyzed by the idea of undertaking such a mission. His hesitation was short-lived, however, as the Crown Prince’s gaze turned icy.

Stealing British looms might lead to imprisonment if caught—perhaps even release on bail. Refusing the Crown Prince, however, would mean an immediate transfer to the Bastille.

Swallowing hard, Marquis Ludo nodded in defeat. “Very well, Your Highness. I’ll go to Britain and bring back everything you require.”

Returning home heavy-hearted, Marquis Ludo was met by Count Kappfeil and others, who eagerly inquired about the Crown Prince’s summons.

Reluctant to reveal his espionage mission, Marquis Ludo deflected, claiming it concerned bank accounting issues. The other financiers, suspecting nothing, began discussing their plans for handling the Necker case.

Marquis Ludo, consumed by thoughts of British looms, nodded absentmindedly, his mind far from the conversation.

...

Four days later, three inconspicuous carriages departed from the Bastille, circled around Paris, and finally left the city under cover of night, heading eastward.

A courier on horseback trailed the carriages at a distance, occasionally leaving markers along the road.

The carriages eventually veered northeast, carrying none other than Necker and his family.

Necker had chosen exile in Lorraine, close to Switzerland, where he hoped friends might assist him.

The hot, restless wind blowing through the carriage window heightened Necker’s irritation. After years of effort, he was now slinking out of Paris under the cover of darkness, much like a fugitive rat.

It was all because of that scoundrel Calonne! Gritting his teeth, Necker seethed silently: I swear, I will make you suffer far worse than I have!

The following evening, the escort convoy reached the town of Sommedieue. The Royal Industrial Planning Bureau agent in charge, Prosper Langer, checked the time and, realizing it was too late to reach the next town, instructed his men to rest at the town hall’s hostel.

After ensuring Necker’s accommodations, Langer and his team gathered in the outer room, playing cards.

Soon, one of the agents entered, whispering a few words into Langer’s ear. Langer nodded, grabbed a bottle of wine, and began drinking with his men. Meanwhile, the agents guarding the back of the hostel also started drinking.

After nightfall, a shabby carriage arrived on the road opposite Sommedieue’s town hall. Several men dressed as merchants disembarked.

The “courier” immediately approached them, speaking in hushed tones, “Now’s the time. The secret police are all drunk.”

The “merchants” nodded, retrieved weapons from the carriage, and scaled the east wall of the town hall.

The streetlamps, extinguished by the “courier,” left the area in darkness. The three “merchants” swiftly picked the main door’s lock and slipped inside.

These men were seasoned assassins. Moving silently, they located Necker’s room, observing the drunken police sprawled around.

The leader, pleased by their luck, lit a torch and deftly avoided the guards. Signaling to his comrades, they drew their swords and burst into Necker’s room, stabbing the bed repeatedly.

After delivering more than a dozen blows, they stopped. The leader held the torch closer to the bed to confirm it was Necker, then motioned for a retreat.

They exited the town hall, savoring the thought of their easy reward of 30,000 livres. Just as they stepped outside, the leader halted abruptly.

“Wait!”

His honed instincts warned of danger. Before they could react, dozens of torches flared to life, revealing an array of flintlock guns aimed directly at them.

...

Marquis Ludo could not believe his luck. His mission in Britain had gone astonishingly well.

Within two days, a textile factory manager, eager to please, had given him a full tour of the automated loom operations. Ludo then bribed two loom technicians with a substantial sum.

Under the cover of night, Prosper Langer and his team managed to dismantle and smuggle out an automated loom—secured to a water wheel and impossible to remove without professional help. They transported it via Britain’s inland waterways to Dover, where a waiting ship ferried it away.

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