The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A Great Disturbance

The Viper Gang barely resisted before they were pinned to the ground by the wooden forks wielded by officers attacking from both sides, their faces filled with fear as they whimpered in submission.

Quillian thanked his colleagues who had rushed to his aid while tying up the criminals one by one with ropes.

That day, similar scenes played out across the Saint-Antoine district.

The police, as if invigorated with boundless energy, immediately charged at any sign of crime, shouting, “In the name of the Crown Prince!” They wielded riot truncheons and long spears to fiercely teach the scoundrels a lesson.

For a time, thieves, robbers, and gang members in the Saint-Antoine district were in utter disarray, fleeing in panic. The once-brazen criminal underworld had lost its former swagger.

The residents of Saint-Antoine were astonished and delighted as they witnessed the police cracking down on crime. Many notorious gang members and criminals were arrested one after another. Such proactive and effective law enforcement was something they had never seen before.

In this era, the common people had exceedingly low expectations for public security. Victims of theft or robbery often resigned themselves to their misfortune as long as their lives were not in danger. The actions of the newly reformed police force far exceeded their expectations.

Before long, people began voluntarily offering water and food to the officers. Crowds cheered along the streets as criminals were apprehended. Encouraged by this support, the officers worked even harder.

It didn’t take long for the residents to learn a new trick—when faced with a crime, they would shout, “In the name of the Crown Prince!” Surprisingly, it often scared the criminals away.

...

Royal Palace

The Duke of Orléans frowned as he looked at the issue of The Paris News spread out on the table. The headline on the front page read: “Disorder in the Saint-Antoine District, Crown Prince Leads Police Reform.”

Compared to the vague wording in the Paris News under his control, the nearby tabloids were far more direct: “Crown Prince Overhauls Police Force, Saint-Antoine District Sees Improved Security,” “Residents Praise New Police Force in Saint-Antoine,” and “Crown Prince’s Ingenious Strategy Solves Dentist Murder Case in Three Minutes.”

The Duke of Orléans felt a surge of irritation. He had initially planned to exploit the chaos in the Saint-Antoine district to use the newspapers to humiliate the Crown Prince. Instead, his actions had unintentionally elevated the Crown Prince’s reputation.

This Joseph, in just over ten days, had transformed the police force completely—a feat that didn’t seem possible for a mere thirteen-year-old boy!

The Duke’s brows furrowed suddenly. Could this be the work of that Austrian wench, using her son to begin purging Paris’s bureaucracy through the police force?

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed the only plausible explanation. After all, it was nearly impossible for the young Crown Prince to accomplish such feats on his own.

If that were true, it was all the more imperative to disrupt the Queen’s plans. The royal family must not be allowed to gain any ground!

After pondering for a moment, the Duke swiftly penned a letter and summoned his steward. “Deliver this letter to Lefebvre. Tell him to spare no effort in handling this matter. If successful, I may consider supporting his bid for Governor of Normandy.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

...

On the East Bank of the Seine River

In a small villa, Paris’s Police Commissioner Guizot cast a sidelong glance at the slightly ajar door and barked at the woman eavesdropping outside, “Anna, shut the door and keep the servants away!”

“Oh.” The woman reluctantly closed the door and walked away, muttering under her breath, “Hmph, treating me like a maid in my own house...”

Only then did Guizot turn his attention back to the short, curly-haired man before him. Taking a deep drag on his pipe, he said, “Similion, this time the Crown Prince isn’t just here for a brief stay before returning to Versailles. He’s planning to remain in the police bureau.”

The short man, the former police commissioner of the Saint-Antoine district who had been “forced” to take medical leave, immediately protested, “But the city commissioner said I could be reinstated in two months...”

“Who knew things would turn out this way?” Guizot exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Right now, it’s not just you—the Crown Prince is a thorn in the side of the entire police bureau.”

Fixing Similion with a sharp gaze, he continued, “Now, there’s something you can do. If you succeed, not only will you be reinstated, but you might even get promoted.”

A gleam of hope flickered in Similion’s eyes. “Sir, just tell me what needs to be done!”

“You know the Saint-Antoine district best. Which gangs hold the most power there?”

“The Hoss Gang and the Black Sheep Gang,” Similion replied. “They control over eighty percent of the district, each commanding over a hundred men.”

Guizot nodded and handed him a slip of paper, his eyes gleaming with madness. “Go to them. I don’t care if it’s dismemberment, assault, kidnapping, or arson—do whatever it takes to plunge the Saint-Antoine district into chaos. Total, uncontrollable chaos!”

Similion’s pupils contracted in shock at the brutal instructions. After a moment, he nodded hesitantly. “Understood. Total chaos.”

He glanced at the paper in his hand and leaped out of his chair in astonishment. “Three... three thousand livres!”

The slip was a draft for three thousand livres. At a time when two thousand livres could buy a villa in Paris, three thousand was a sum that would drive any gang into a frenzy.

“This is just the beginning,” Guizot said coolly. “Tell the gang leaders that they’ll earn a thousand livres for every act of terror they commit. In a month, whoever performs best will receive an additional twenty thousand livres.”

“Yes, sir.” Similion’s hands trembled slightly from excitement.

“Go, then,” Guizot ordered. He gave the man a pointed look. “And remember, if anything goes wrong, the powerful people backing me will cover for you. But this must be seen as your own idea—it has nothing to do with me. Understood?”

“Yes, I understand!”

Guizot watched Similion hurry away, a cold smile playing on his lips.

Initially, he hadn’t intended to escalate matters so drastically. But Lefebvre had assured him yesterday to proceed without restraint, promising to shield him from any fallout. With such assurances, Guizot had no qualms.

“Crown Prince, you could have enjoyed a comfortable life at Versailles, but you had to wade into these troubled waters,” he muttered bitterly.

...

Three Days Later

At the Saint-Antoine District Police Station, Joseph was seated under the shade of a tree, reviewing citizen complaint letters—which were, in truth, mostly praise for the police. Suddenly, Inspector Magoni rushed over, out of breath.

“Your Highness, another incident! Two people were killed, and a shop was burned down on White Fleur-de-Lis Street!”

Joseph’s brow furrowed. From the afternoon two days ago, the district had been plagued by a series of violent crimes: two deaths the day before yesterday, three deaths and two serious injuries yesterday.

At first, he had thought these were isolated incidents. Now, it was clear something far more sinister was unfolding.

“What’s the situation?” he asked.

“Arden has taken a team there,” Magoni replied. “The fire has been extinguished, but the culprits haven’t been caught yet.”

Joseph immediately returned to his office to mobilize more officers to deal with the case.

By dusk, Arden had returned with updates on the White Fleur-de-Lis Street case. Just as he was reporting to Joseph, another officer arrived with grim news: the Black Sheep Gang had gone berserk on Misanla Street, injuring seven or eight passersby. Urgent police support was needed.

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