From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

"What happened? Why are there so many policemen?"

"They all carry knives and guns, they are really He people."

"I remember that this is the residence of the Duke of Choiseul. It should have been temporarily lent to Monsignor Bonaparte. What is going on?"

"Hey, I heard about it. It seems to be related to the disappearance of Jean Du Barry. They said that this mansion was going to be searched."

"What?! These police are so bold, they dare to search the residence of the Governor of Corsica?"

"That's hard to say. Governor Bonaparte is indeed related to Du Barry's disappearance, and the police have the right to investigate on this basis. And I also saw Count Falcone in the team."

“So that’s how it is”

Many onlookers had gathered on the Champs Elysées. Some people followed the Paris police out of curiosity after seeing the long-awaited large-scale operation on the street.

To their great surprise, these usually inhumane and aloof police officers did not wave sticks to disperse the onlookers. Instead, they turned a blind eye to, and even acquiesced in, their following.

Even the Paris police did not hide the purpose of their operation. Most people soon knew that they were here to investigate the disappearance of Jean Du Barry.

However, the Paris police's investigation target still surprised them. After all, no one would think that a figure like the Governor of Corsica would use such a dirty trick as kidnapping a wealthy industrial owner.

As for the well-dressed and higher-status gentlemen in the crowd, they obviously heard about the political struggle between the two dukes in Paris, and they also saw something deeper.

They gathered together and discussed in whispers:

"It is ridiculous that these policemen suspected that Du Barry was imprisoned in the palace of Governor Bonaparte."

"That's right. A person with the status of Governor Bonaparte would not kidnap an industrial owner."

"Shh, keep your voice down. I just saw the grandson of the Duke of Richelieu. He was with these policemen."

"The grandson of the Duke of Richelieu...? Hiss, I understand. I think the disappearance of Du Barry was probably directed and acted by the Duke of Richelieu. The purpose is to suppress Governor Bonaparte and the Duke of Choiseul."

"I think so, but I don't know how this matter will end. If Governor Bonaparte really allowed these police to search his mansion, it would be a great shame and humiliation."

Compared with ordinary citizens who watched the excitement, those who were more politically sensitive regarded the search as a political confrontation.

They all believed that Count Falcone's trip was to humiliate the Governor of Corsica.

Because if a man of Lawrence's status allowed these low-level officials to search and search his residence, it would be considered a sign of weakness and incompetence by everyone.

Even though Lawrence himself may not care about such a concept of inferiority, the citizens of Paris in this era would think that Lawrence had swallowed a bite of the fruit of shame.

Time gradually passed, and there was still no movement in the mansion. After hearing the news, the number of citizens who came to the Champs Elysées gradually increased. Many of them were people of outstanding status and concerned about politics, and there were even many who were well-informed. newspaper reporter.

Compared to whether Du Barry, an insignificant person, was in Lawrence's mansion, they were more concerned about how Lawrence would respond to this crisis.

"Your Majesty, everything has been arranged."

Right in front of the gate of Lawrence Mansion, the extremely busy Colonel Giovanni returned to Count Falcone and reported:

"Manpower has been deployed around this mansion, and we can see even a fly flying out of it."

Count Falcone seemed not to have heard anything. He still looked up at the mansion in front of him and muttered intoxicatedly:

"Laurence Bonaparte, you stay here and enjoy your last comfortable time. I will visit you often when you enter the dungeon, oh! I will also take Miss Elvy with me, she will definitely Gotta see you huddled in the dungeon."

"Eh, Lord Count?" Colonel Giovanni twitched the corner of his mouth and warned carefully.

Count Falcone, who was disturbed from his sweet dream, suddenly became furious, turned his head and shouted:

"You bastard! Do I want you to speak?"

"I"

Colonel Giovanni looked carefully at the young boy in front of him, who was at least twenty years younger than him. He gritted his teeth and swallowed back the breath, not daring to show any dissatisfaction. Then he lowered his head and prepared to retreat aside.

The policemen present also frowned and looked at this dude. They still very much supported their commander, Colonel Giovanni.

Seeing Colonel Giovanni's submissive appearance in front of Count Falcone, although the police dared not speak out in anger, they also complained a lot about the incompetent playboy in front of them.

"Wait a minute." Count Falcone suddenly stopped Colonel Giovanni again, snorted dissatisfied and asked:

"You just said that everything has been arranged?"

"Yes, everything has been arranged according to your instructions."

Colonel Giovanni had no choice but to step forward again and report:

"The entire mansion has been surrounded, even the side facing the Seine. Search operations can begin at any time."

"Hmph, you are quite useful."

Count Falcone smiled ferociously and turned to look at the surrounding citizens.

Since the Champs Elysées is the residence of the rich and powerful, there are not many citizens who come here to watch, and most of them are respectable gentlemen and ladies.

"By the way, Lord Earl, there is one more thing I need to report to you."

Colonel Giovanni then added:

"I also heard a lot of comments from the citizens when I was making arrangements. They all seemed to think that you were here to humiliate the Governor of Corsica instead of investigating the disappearance of Du Barry."

"Humiliation? Humph, they are right. I just want to slap that damn Bonaparte in the face, and then show his evidence to everyone."

After hearing this, Count Falcone laughed ferociously, turned his head and scanned the crowd and said:

"There are almost two to three hundred people watching, enough to witness the end of that Corsican country bumpkin. Colonel, just start the search. I can't wait any longer."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Colonel Giovanni had no choice but to speak bravely, waved to call a few of his subordinates, and went up with them to knock on the door of the mansion.

"Come on, come on! I see you, the pirate leader! They are coming in!"

Du Barry, who had been peeping out of the room on the second floor, said excitedly to Grosso.

In Du Barry's ears at this moment, the sound of Colonel Giovanni's knocking on the iron door was more beautiful than any sound of nature. It was a sound that symbolized freedom and relief, and it meant that he would soon be free from this damn barbaric There is salvation in human hands.

If Grosso hadn't been staring closely at him, Du Barry would have wanted to shout loudly to tell everyone outside that he was here.

The people outside immediately stopped their discussion and turned their attention to the gate of the mansion.

Colonel Giovanni and several policemen had knocked on the door and were waiting for a response inside.

"Hmph, just rush in and search, it's so troublesome." Count Falcone muttered impatiently, but still acquiesced to Colonel Giovanni to follow the rules and procedures.

Under everyone's gaze, the door to the main building of the mansion was slowly opened.

The first person to walk out of the house was an old man wearing an evening gown, with a full head of white hair but a vigorous look. He was the old housekeeper of this mansion.

He walked toward the iron gate with small steps in a graceful manner, not feeling nervous at all about the hundreds of heavily armed policemen outside the gate, and finally stopped twenty feet away from the gate.

The old butler stood there, staring at Colonel Giovanni at the door with his calm dark brown eyes, but did not speak.

Immediately afterwards, twenty solemn soldiers were seen walking out of the main building in two teams.

They were wearing the uniforms of the Corsican army, with polished rifles on their backs. They were walking towards the old housekeeper with neat and steady steps, forming two lines to protect the old housekeeper.

People looked at the well-trained precision shooters and the graceful and calm old housekeeper in amazement. This solemn scene was just like a foreign envoy formally meeting the king.

At least in terms of temperament, people felt that the Governor of Corsica was slightly better than the Paris police.

"Good afternoon, sir."

The old butler cleared his throat, stared at Colonel Giovanni as if no one else existed, and said in a deep voice:

"It seems that the arrival of you and your men is not on today's schedule. Please indicate your intention."

Colonel Giovanni was stunned for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the twenty soldiers beside the old housekeeper.

Colonel Giovanni, who was a retired soldier, could immediately tell that these twenty people were veterans who had experienced the baptism of war. They were resolute and strong, and they did not show any emotion when facing two hundred fully armed Paris policemen.

Looking at the muskets behind the precision shooters, Colonel Giovanni couldn't help but soften his attitude. He didn't expect the Corsican governor to be so tough and directly sent guards to obstruct them.

Colonel Giovanni did not want to engage in an armed conflict in a place like the Champs Elysees unless he had to.

"Please open the door, sir."

Colonel Giovanni shouted:

"The Paris police force has good reason to suspect that the residence is linked to a high-profile disappearance and we need to conduct a search."

The old butler's expression remained unchanged and he responded in a neither humble nor arrogant manner:

"Sorry sir, the owner here did not give me the authority to open the door for you."

"But I ask that you must cooperate with the investigation. This is our right." Colonel Giovanni said with a frown.

"I'm sorry again, sir, I will do everything possible to cooperate with your investigation, except opening the door." The old butler stood there without any intention of taking any action.

"Damn old man!"

Count Falcone, who was watching from the side, couldn't bear it anymore and rushed directly to Colonel Giovanni and cursed:

"What are you talking nonsense to him? It's a waste of time! When you arrest those thugs, do you have to say hello to them first?! Just open the damn door for me!"

"Yes, yes, Lord Earl."

Colonel Giovanni had no time to defend himself and could only nod and accept.

He then looked at the hollow carved iron door at the entrance of the mansion. It was obviously a high-quality and fragile handicraft rather than a solid and solid door.

The designer of the gate probably didn't consider its safety and practicality at all. After all, no one would think there are any safety risks in a place like the Champs Elysées.

Colonel Giovanni quickly called a few strong policemen and started banging against the hollow carved iron door.

boom! boom! boom!

Violent and loud crashes resounded throughout the Champs Elysées, and the fragile door gradually twisted and deformed.

"Sir, I must warn you that your actions are illegal." The old butler warned seriously.

Before Colonel Giovanni could say anything, Count Falcone laughed disdainfully, stepped forward and pointed at the old butler's nose and cursed:

"Fuck you, old man, just wait until you enter the dungeon with your master. I hope you can survive until the day you get out of the dungeon, hahaha!"

The old butler glanced at Count Falcone wordlessly and walked back to the main building of the mansion without any expression.

"Oh my God, he's so rude." An elderly gentleman onlookers frowned and said:

"It's not like he is a member of a noble family like the Richelieu family."

Everyone around him nodded in agreement, and their impression of this rumored playboy became even worse.

The destruction of the gate continues, and now a hole has been curved between the iron bars that is large enough for half a person to pass through. It will not take long for the Paris police to file in.

Count Falcone's sinister smile grew wider and wider. He had already decided that he would crawl through this hole himself and expose the ugly crimes of that damn Bonaparte himself.

The hearts of the onlookers were also in their throats. Although the police were very rude and rude, as long as they entered the mansion, the fruits of victory in this confrontation would have to be picked by Count Falcone. .

And just when people were wondering why the other protagonist hadn't shown up yet, a calm and majestic voice suddenly came from the main building of the mansion:

"Gentlemen, I am giving you a second warning. This is an invasion."

I saw two young people walking out of the main building one after the other.

Walking in front was Lawrence's confidant and bodyguard Ya'an. He stared at the policemen at the door with a frosty face, and his right hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

The slightly smiling young man in the back is undoubtedly the owner of this place, Lawrence Bonaparte, the Governor of Corsica.

"Lawrence, you can figure it out."

Seeing Lawrence again, Count Falcone's face suddenly darkened, and he gritted his teeth and said:

"It's been such a long time no see."

"In fact, it didn't take long, Your Excellency."

Lawrence walked to the center of the precision shooter like the old butler just now, and said with a smile:

"I'm really sorry that we met at war last time. How are you? I asked your grandfather to bring you greetings. I wonder if you received them."

"you!!"

Hearing Lawrence mention his body again, Count Falcone suddenly became angry. He didn't even care about the onlookers and just grabbed the iron door and shook it vigorously like a crazy baboon.

After a while, Count Falcone, who was breathing heavily, stopped, suddenly sneered convulsively, shook his head and said:

"I don't want to pay attention to your glib words, but considering that you will have no one to talk to you in the cell in the future, I'd better talk to you mercifully. I know Du Barry is inside, if you take the initiative "Hand him over and admit that you are a despicable kidnapper, and you may be able to get a lenient sentence."