Dibowa crinkled his nose, sensing an ominous premonition, and quickly turned to instruct the police officer, "Antony, spread out and search! Foustan, go back and call for more people, hurry!"
About half an hour later, a large group of police officers had surrounded the area, and Antony rushed back to report to Dibowa, "Chief, a farmhouse to the north was hit by artillery fire. An old man and his wife died, and the house and animal shed were destroyed."
"Artillery fire?" Dibowa's brow furrowed deeply.
After a while, the other searchers also returned one by one, but nothing of value was found—by then, the sky had already darkened, making it difficult to discern objects more than ten paces away. Moreover, the soldiers of France had been well-prepared, resulting in the police returning without success.
The next morning.
In a small room on the second floor of the Industrial Planning Bureau, Murdock was excited yet anxious as he looked at the notes and diagrams in front of him, the bloodshot in his eyes indicating that he hadn't slept all night.
The information the Crown Prince had shared was too astonishing, too tempting, leaving him not a shred of desire to sleep.𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂
He picked up a complex schematic diagram, shook his head, and sighed, thinking to himself: It's a good thing the Crown Prince of France didn't dabble in steam engines, otherwise, both I and Watt would probably be out of work.
These ideas were simply inconceivable, exquisitely brilliant. It was hard to believe that they had come from the mind of a fourteen-year-old boy!
He had spent most of yesterday and all night understanding the principles of the new throttle valve, and the new safety valve designs the Crown Prince had shared with him, and had a rough idea of their processing design.
However, there were still many things he hadn't figured out, the most "terrifying" of which was the principle of the "triple-expansion steam engine." The thermal efficiency was frighteningly high, but at the same time, frightfully complex.
What was worse, the Crown Prince had only given him the principle and the concept; the specific mechanical design was up to him to complete.
He now dared not even think about the words "triple-expansion"; otherwise his brain would immediately throb in pain, clearly already overburdened...
After a long time, Murdock finally chose to give up, organized the materials, and headed towards the Crown Prince's office.
"Actually, Your Highness, there's no need to hurry," Joseph said with a smile, comforting the haggard inventor, "In the short term, you just need to build the existing steam engines. These new technologies can be figured out slowly. Even if it takes five years, eight years, or even ten years to bring them to fruition, it's completely fine."
Just kidding, if Murdock really managed to realize all those technologies he had talked about yesterday, the industry of France would take off right on the spot!
However, there are objective laws of development; without the accumulation of lower-tier technologies, higher-tier technologies will always be castles in the air.
Like the triple-expansion steam engine, which demands extremely high precision and quality in both machining and materials, even if Murdock had a sudden burst of inspiration and completed the detailed designs, and then physically crafted them, they would inevitably end up exploding the boilers during operation— because the materials and processing levels were far from meeting the requirements.
The reason Joseph revealed these advanced technologies to Murdock was firstly to give him a conceptual direction in technology, and secondly to attract him to work more steadfastly in France.
"Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness," Murdock appeared somewhat deflated, not sure if it was due to exhaustion or a sense of defeat—he had always thought that although he was a bit inept in handling interpersonal relationships, he was absolutely a genius in the field of steam engines, never expecting that he still couldn't make the engine even after someone had spelled out the principles and design concepts for him.
He sighed and said, "Your Highness, actually, I would like to recommend someone to assist me in researching these technologies you've proposed."
"Oh? Who might that be?"
"My neighbor and former colleague, Mr. John Sandler, a very talented technician," Murdock said, "You might not have heard of him because his invention, the 'boiler pressure gauge,' was deemed significant proprietary knowledge by Mr. Watt and has therefore never been publicized.
"And Mr. Sandler's current living situation is not very good. I believe, if you offered a suitable salary, I could convince him to come to France with just one letter."
Joseph felt somewhat embarrassed; at this rate, he was bound to unintentionally undermine Watt's corner.
However, all this was because Mr. Watt often "withheld" technical compensation from his employees, giving Joseph the opportunity to take advantage—why not take it?
"Thank you for your selfless recommendation," Joseph first sincerely thanked him, then mentioned a figure, "120 livres. What do you think, would this be an appropriate monthly salary for Mr. Sandler?"
Murdock really wanted to say "inappropriate" because it was too high. In truth, just offering half of that salary would be enough to make Sandler set aside everything and board a ship bound for France.
Honestly, from a personal standpoint, he was quite reluctant to have Sandler come, as it would bring competitive pressure to him. However, after reading through the technical data provided by the Crown Prince, he knew that he needed to find an assistant, or else based on his own efforts, it would probably take more than a decade to fully grasp those technologies.
Murdock placed his hand on his chest and bowed, "Your Highness, you remain as generous as ever. I will write to Mr. Sandler immediately."
As he spoke, another matter came to his mind: "Also, Your Highness, I've seen that railway infrastructure is being constructed in the center of Paris."
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England had rail transportation decades ago, but it was only used for mining transportation and had never appeared in cities before.
"That's right, Paris is about to hold Fashion Week, and we will need railcars to transport the guests."
"What a great concept!" Murdock praised before continuing, "However, if I may speak frankly, your track construction crew might not be quite professional. They had the good idea of using broken stones for the foundation, but when it comes to the securing of the sleepers or the precision of the rail installation, it's rather... well, you understand."
Joseph thought to himself that he was the one who had told them to use broken stones, and indeed, their technical skills were quite average.
He quickly asked, "Do you have any suggestions regarding the construction?"
Murdock waved his hand dismissively, "Your Highness, I'm not particularly skilled in laying tracks. But I do know some experts in the field. The mining areas of Birmingham have laid many tracks, and with the recent scarcity of new coal mines, their income has been very poor."
Joseph's eyes lit up, "Mr. Murdock, you must have experience as a headhunter! In just over ten minutes, you've found me so many talents!"
The importance of track-laying technicians was self-evident—the railroad was a necessary technology to advance the train system.
Without hesitation, he nodded, "Then please extend them an invitation. France will have plenty of track laying work in the coming years. We will certainly make their compensation satisfactory."
No sooner had he spoken than he saw Eman quickly enter and whisper in his ear, "Your Highness, Baron Frient has arrived, and it seems to be urgent."
Murdock tactfully excused himself. The Dean of the Police Academy, Frient, entered the office, closed the door behind him, bowed swiftly to Joseph, and said anxiously, "Your Highness, something has happened..."
"A farmhouse was hit by a cannonball and someone died?" Joseph frowned, "Was it caused by our training?"
"It shouldn't be." Frient said with his head lowered, "As per your instructions, the charge for the cannons during training was halved. That farmhouse is 1,800 paces from the training grounds, and even if the gunner aimed poorly, the cannonball could not possibly fly that far."
"Do you know who did it?"
"We're not sure yet. Major Dibowa found gunpowder residue and signs of scorched weeds on the north side of the training grounds. It's possible that someone fired at the farmhouse from there. But they didn't catch anyone suspicious."
Frient took a deep breath, "Your Highness, the most troublesome part is, the farmer is adamant it was the training grounds' cannon that hit his house.
"Somehow the news got out, and now there's a bunch of reporters interviewing that family, with protesters blocking the entrance to the training grounds..."
Joseph sensed that this was no simple matter, so he gestured to Eman, "Please prepare the carriage, I need to go to the training grounds. Oh, and send someone to inform Mr. Fouche, ask him to go there too."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Shortly after, on the carriage to the training grounds, Joseph said to Frient, "Is there, theoretically, any chance that the training grounds' cannon could have hit the farmhouse?"
"Your Highness, if they were fully charged with gunpowder, and with a tailwind, a four-pounder could barely reach 1,800 paces."
Joseph nodded, "It seems someone wants to frame us, and he must be very familiar with cannons."
He looked at Frient, "Who around Paris is equipped with four-pounder cannons?"
"The closest would be the French Guards and the Imperial Guard. Oh, the Mounted Police have some cannons too. A bit further away, there are units like the Lettler Regiment."
Joseph squinted his eyes. It would be difficult for the Imperial Guard to move cannons out of Versailles without being noticed by everyone. It also seemed implausible for units like the Lettler Regiment to transport cannons from nearly a hundred kilometers away to Paris.
So it left the French Guards and the Mounted Police as the most likely suspects. But who was it?
A few hours later, the Crown Prince's carriage arrived at the Police Academy's training grounds outside Paris.
Before Joseph even got out, he saw dozens of people protesting outside the training ground, chanting slogans like "Police Academy endangers the lives of farmers" and "Stop training immediately."
With a troubled look, Frient said, "Your Highness, today's papers have already reported the incident. There are people in Paris who say it was us who hit the farmhouse. These protesters came first thing in the morning."
After a moment's thought, Joseph instructed Frient, "For now, don't worry about who did it, start with crisis management."
```
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"Crisis public relations?"
"You must immediately accompany Viscount Besancon and, on behalf of the Police Department, visit that farmer's family. Promise to help them repair their house and give them 4,000 livres. But remember, in front of the reporters, only mention it as assistance to the family. You must never admit that it was an accident caused by our training, as the detailed investigation is still ongoing."
"Next, you're to take police officers with you every day to repair the family's house, deliver three meals to them, and even help them feed the livestock. At the same time, issue a public statement condemning the attacker of the farmers, and express sympathy for the victims' plight in a heartfelt manner."
"I'll have the press continue to cover this and gradually guide public opinion."
Joseph then looked at the protesting crowd: "As for these people, try to appease them for now by promising to suspend the cannon training. However, be ready with shields, guarding against agitators causing trouble, but remember not to attack them."
"Yes, Your Highness, I'll get right on it."
Joseph did not enter the training field but first looked at the victims' plight from a distance before heading to the location identified by Dibowa as the possible site where the crime was committed.
Dibowa had the scene well preserved. Pointing to the marks on the ground, he said to Joseph, "Your Highness, judging by the depth of these wheel tracks, they should be from the cannon's carriage."
"And this mound of dirt here, it's from where the cannon's base was anchored. Judging by the footprints, there should be seven men and two horses involved, just enough to operate a four-pound cannon."
"My guess is that these people fired the cannon at the farmhouse at the same time we were training our shooting."
While Joseph was examining the nearby area, he saw Fouche arriving with the Police Affairs Department team.
Fouche had already been briefed about the general situation on his way over and immediately began a detailed investigation around the area. After that, he went to the victims' location and returned with a cannonball.
"Your Highness, there are only wheel tracks leading to the adjacent forest, and it seems that some of the criminals may have escaped to Paris." Fouche spoke with a grave expression, "Based on these clues alone, it's very difficult to ascertain their identities."
Joseph looked at the cannonball in his hands and shook his head: "Wherever there is contact, traces will be left. For instance, this cannonball cannot be fired from every four-pound cannon."
Because of the limited processing levels of cannons at the time, it was difficult to make the calibers of the cannons exactly uniform, so the cannonballs had to be custom-made.
"And these wheel and footprints, they all contain useful information. I hope you can utilize them as soon as possible to determine who is trying to frame the police academy."
"Oh, right, considering the military units nearby that possess four-pound cannons, the probability is highest with the Imperial Guard and the Mounted Police."
Fouche, quietly repeating "Wherever there is contact, traces will be left," slowly nodded and saluted to Joseph with his hat: "Your Highness, I will find out who is responsible as soon as possible."
The next day, a messenger from the Minister of the Interior hurried to the Industrial Planning Bureau and handed a letter from Mono to the Crown Prince.
Joseph opened the envelope and saw that Mono had written that there were already numerous nobles who had complained to him about the police department or the police academy because of the farmhouse being shelled, demanding that he close the police academy training grounds.
Because the Police Department was still officially under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of the Interior, all complaints went to the Minister of the Interior.
And Mono had no choice but to relay the issue to the Crown Prince, who actually controlled the police system.
"That was quick," Joseph tossed the letter aside, a chill flashing in his eyes. "Just don't let me catch you!"
...
Police Affairs Department headquarters.
An intelligence officer was reporting the recent investigation results to Fouche: "The Mounted Police have a total of three cannons. As we expected, these guys only know how to bully farmers, and it's likely been a long time since they last used a cannon. The hooks and axles are all covered with rust."
The Mounted Police were similar to a rural patrol team mixed with tax inspectors and were not part of the police system.
"It seems we have to focus on the Imperial Guard," said Fouche as he looked towards Prosper. "Have you found anything over there?"