Chapter 132: The City of Light, Paris (2) The hour and minute hands of the pocket watch he opened anxiously pointed to 5:33, fortunately.
"Robespierre really talks too much. I almost ended up being late."
Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès muttered as he closed the watch.
"Deputy, will you be going around the 13th arrondissement again today?"
"Yes. I never get tired of seeing it."
"Very well."
The coachman nodded and cracked the reins sharply once more.
"Deputy, we've arrived."
"Well done. Perfect timing. Why don't you loosen the reins for a moment and enjoy this moment as well?"
"Gladly."
Sieyès and the coachman leaned back where they sat and waited for the magic hour.
They were not the only ones.
Couples filling the sidewalks and carriage lanes, families with children, and countless onlookers—all were waiting for the magic hour.
"Lighting in 3, 2, 1!"
As the clock struck six in the evening, a sight that could not be seen anywhere else in the world except Paris began to unfold once again.
Driving away the darkness of barbarism, the light created by human reason began to spread across the city.
"Waaah…"
"Mom, the whole world is so bright!"
No matter how many times they saw it, the scene looked almost like magic.
"…Modern civilization really is astonishing."
"Hahaha. My own son heard the rumors and kept begging to see it."
"Even for an adult like me, it feels like magic. Imagine how children must feel. Since the Assembly is in recess this weekend, why not bring your family here for an outing?"
"What? If I'm gone, who will drive your carriage, Deputy?"
"I'll take a day off at home. I've been running around long enough."
"In that case, I won't refuse! Haha!"
The coachman grinned widely, already excited about taking his family out.
"But is this traffic from here onward? We haven't moved at all."
"After six in the evening, nearly every carriage in Paris heads here."
"Right, it's become a popular dating route for young people… Ah, look—there's a couple right there."
Sieyès spoke as he watched an officer in a sharply pressed uniform walking arm in arm with a lady in a colorful dress.
But… that hairstyle looked strangely familiar.
"Major Mathieu!"
"…Deputy Sieyès? Why are you here?"
"Is the lady beside you your fiancée? You two look wonderful together!"
"Mathieu, who is that gentleman?"
"Ah, he's Deputy Sieyès of the National Assembly."
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès, leader of the Plain faction. It's no surprise that my friend Mathieu would fall for such a lady."
Sieyès leaned out the carriage window and nodded.
"Nice to meet you, Deputy. My name is Anne-Joseph Théroigne."
"Haha! What a coincidence—we even share the same middle name. Surely that's a sign of good fortune."
The nearly forty-year-old man suddenly felt an irresistible urge to tease the twenty-three-year-old escorting the lady.
"So, Mathieu, when do you plan to hold the wedding?"
"A… a wedding?!"
At Sieyès's words, both young lovers flushed bright red.
Honestly, couples in their twenties were the most fun to tease.
"When a man and woman in their twenties walk arm in arm through Paris—especially along a dating route—it's practically a foregone conclusion. I may not look it, but I am a priest. I'll even officiate your wedding Mass. You know it's not easy to have a wedding Mass conducted by an archbishop, right?"
"…Actually, we plan to hold it this Christmas."
"Hahaha! Christmas! A fine day indeed! Mathieu, you're quite the romantic young man. Ah! I seem to have stolen the romantic time meant for you two. This tactless and unpleasant priest will excuse himself now. Enjoy your beautiful evening together."
"D-Deputy!"
The mischievous priest gave the blushing young officer a wicked grin like Scrooge, then closed the carriage window again.
At that moment, a shabby-looking man suddenly rushed toward Sieyès's carriage through the line of stalled vehicles.
"Enemy of the people, Sieyès—die!"
"W-what?"
The object glinting in his hand…
A gun?
For Sieyès, the moment seemed to slow down thousands of times.
"Long live the Republic!"
Bang!
The gunshot rang out.
But a young soldier suddenly leapt forward.
The lead bullet from the pistol failed to reach Sieyès.
"Deputy! Are you alright?!"
"I—I'm fine! Mathieu—Major Mathieu—where is he?!"
Sieyès shoved aside the coachman supporting him and frantically searched for the young officer.
But instead of Mathieu, he saw police officers rushing toward the scene.
"Whistle! Whistle! Gunshot reported at the 13th arrondissement intersection! Gunshot reported!"
Paris — Les Invalides Military Hospital
"…"
"It is truly a stroke of luck. The bullet fortunately grazed his side instead of striking the abdomen where the organs are. He will need rest until the flesh heals, but his life is not in danger."
"…Then why hasn't he regained consciousness?"
I asked the doctor while looking at Mathieu, lying on the hospital bed.
"Do not worry, Your Excellency. He merely suffered severe shock and lost consciousness temporarily."
"So you won't need to amputate anything?"
"That's correct. One could only say that God intervened."
Thank goodness… truly.
This was the eighteenth century, when even tetanus could kill because antiseptics and antibiotics did not yet exist.
If the bullet had struck somewhere worse, Mathieu would have become crippled.
I grabbed the doctor's hands and shook them vigorously.
"Doctor, thank you very much for saving Mathieu's life."
"I only fulfilled my duty as a physician. Your Excellency, could you please leave the room now so the patient may rest?"
"Yes. I entrust him to you."
I closed the hospital room door and stepped into the corridor.
"Florian, what about Deputy Sieyès and Miss Théroigne?"
"Deputy Sieyès has retreated to his home in case of a second attack. Miss Théroigne has been escorted back with one of our staff. She seemed to need time to recover physically and mentally…"
"…You handled that well."
After confirming the hospital door was fully closed, I took a cigarette from my pocket and lit it.
"Florian."
"Yes, boss."
"What do the gendarmerie and police say?"
"…They've tried persuasion and beatings alike, but no matter what they do, the suspect refuses to open his mouth."
Refuses to talk…
I exhaled smoke and spoke.
"I heard the assassin called Deputy Sieyès an enemy of the people."
If someone dared call a leader of the revolution an enemy of the people, then the mastermind behind this must be one of those radical reds.
If it were that bastard, where would he hide?
Where would his kind gather?
Only one place.
"Florian, are you still in contact with the workers you met while working at the factory?"
"Yes."
"I'll be brief. The identity of that assassin—find it within three days. Use the police, the gendarmerie, or distribute his sketch among workers if necessary. Whatever method you use, I will take full responsibility."
"Understood, boss."
Then I turned to the man who had rushed here in such haste he hadn't even removed his military uniform.
"Brother Grouchy."
"I'm listening, Guillaume."
"Can you select a few of the most aggressive—or the most ambitious—men from the Paris Defense Force and bring them to me?"
"I'll have them assembled immediately."
"Good."
Then I turned to the two men standing there in suits.
"Mr. Mayer Rothschild."
"Yes, boss."
"Once the assassin's identity is confirmed, find out where every coin in his pocket came from—who gave it to him, when, where, and why."
"Understood."
"Mr. Pétion."
"Yes, boss."
"You learned the fundamentals of weaponry at the military academy, correct?"
"Of course."
"Investigate the pistol the assassin used. The manufacturer, the serial number, which arsenal stored it—or whether it was privately made. I want everything."
"Yes, understood."
Whoever you are—
you've crossed the line.
April 25, 1792.
"Name."
"Captain Nicolas Oudinot, Your Excellency!"
"Very good, Captain Oudinot."
"What is the ultimate goal you wish to achieve in your life?"
"…That would be…"
"It's alright. Speak honestly."
Oudinot glanced down briefly, then looked into the eyes of the legendary man before him.
"I want to rise high in life, Your Excellency!"
"Rise high… what kind of rise? Wealth? Honor?"
"I want both!"
"Good. Very satisfactory."
Excellent. There is no better partner than someone who clearly knows what he wants.
"Captain Nicolas Oudinot. Are you familiar with the British East India Company?"
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"And do you know that the East India Company maintains its own mercenary forces?"
"Yes."
"Good."
I continued.
"Captain Oudinot. Are you aware of the incident that occurred a few days ago in the 13th arrondissement?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. The shooting incident. I heard it was a dispute between citizens that escalated…"
"Ah, so that is how it has been reported publicly. It doesn't matter. Someone close to me was involved in that incident. But the police and gendarmerie cannot uncover who stands behind the culprit."
"..."
"I wish to remove the kind of trash that hides behind innocent people and harms others. But relying on official authority alone may not achieve what I want, Captain Oudinot."
The law is all well and good.
But every matter has a golden time.
If we proceed strictly by legal procedures, can we still meet that golden time?
"I will not ask you to do filthy things like the East India Company does. But neither will it be the sort of work that looks honorable like police work. If you refuse my offer, there will be no retaliation or disadvantage.
However, I promise you one thing: what you said you desired, I will place firmly into your hands.
The choice is yours, Captain Oudinot."
The grim-faced captain lowered his eyes briefly in thought.
Then he looked straight into mine and spoke.
"What should I begin with, Your Excellency?"
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