Chapter 571: Let's All Disappear Together
Earlier, Clystiel had informed him that French goods were surprisingly popular. Several merchants and companies had already expressed their willingness to take over these goods immediately and promised to publicly announce that the payment still came from the original buyer.
The catch? The price had to be discounted.
The Duke of Leeds turned to Clystiel and asked, "So, how much more do we need to pay in total?"
"Seven orders, a total of 1.8 million florins, Your Grace," Clystiel replied as he pulled out a stack of contract copies. He quickly added, "The buyers are all very reliable. For example, Viscount Perna is a well-known figure in Vienna, wealthy and influential.
"My people have already signed agreements with them. The terms are clear, and they've even partially paid the French companies."
The Duke of Leeds frowned again.
1.8 million florins equaled £180,000.
For this operation to disrupt French industries, Parliament had allocated him a total of £500,000.
He had used £300,000 for initial expenses, leaving £200,000. Part of this remaining amount was intended as "rewards" for himself and bribes for officials involved in the operation.
But if he didn't invest this £180,000 now, the entire plan could fail, and the £300,000 already spent would be a total loss.
Subtracting the bribes, he didn't even have £180,000 left. He would have to chip in some of his own money...
Damn it! He clenched his fists in frustration but reassured himself: Losing £480,000 would deal at least a £1.3 million blow to the French, crippling their industrial system.
Once the plan succeeded, he could leverage this achievement to return to the political center of London. This money would be an investment in his future.
The Duke of Leeds repeatedly confirmed with Clystiel that there were no problems with the transactions. Naturally, there weren't. The companies and individuals had signed agreements and started making payments. With actual money in hand, what could go wrong?
Finally, he nodded. "Fine. I'll release the funds to you as soon as possible. I don't want to see any more surprises."
"I guarantee it, Your Grace."
A Sudden Twist
In the days that followed, Clystiel allocated £180,000—over 4.5 million francs—to his subordinates, who passed it on to the French companies as "discounts."
Just as he began to relax, imagining the rewards he would receive from the British and the luxurious life awaiting him in Manchester, his butler announced an urgent visitor—Graz.
"What do you mean someone's gone missing?!" Clystiel snapped at Graz.
"It's… it's just…" Graz stammered. "Viscount Perna hasn't attended any social events for days. When I went to his villa, it was completely emptied.
"I sent someone to inquire at his family estate in Erdenberg. They said Viscount Perna died at the beginning of the year…"
A terrible sense of foreboding swept over Clystiel. He hurriedly asked, "And what about the payment to the French companies? How much did he pay?"
"Only… only the initial 50,000 florins…"
The room spun around Clystiel. He collapsed into a chair but sprang back up moments later, shouting at his butler, "Quick! Send someone to find that bastard!"
But before the butler could leave, he returned with Borasnia.
The latter's face was grim as he reported, "Sir, the Holmes-Rall Investment Company has just declared bankruptcy. Its directors seem to have fled abroad…"
Over the next three days, Clystiel received one report after another of the merchants and companies who had agreed to buy the discounted French goods disappearing.
In fact, they had all vanished on the same day. News from Italy simply took longer to arrive.
Even if Clystiel had been a fool, he now understood that he had been scammed.
A Brutal Outcome
Meanwhile, the French companies began to intensify their demands for payment. They also started publicly denouncing the incident, inviting business leaders and socialites to warehouse tours to show the stockpiled goods and accuse the buyers of breaching their contracts.
Graz was the first to flee.
When Clystiel couldn't reach him, he too hurriedly escaped Vienna with his family, heading toward Russia under the cover of night.
But his carriage hadn't traveled far into the eastern outskirts of the city when it was forced to stop by fallen trees blocking the road. Under the fading light of sunset, several men in black emerged and killed everyone—Clystiel, his family, and their servants.
Paris in Uproar
In Paris, newspapers like Le Journal de Paris had been dominated by headlines such as "Outrage! Organized Contract Fraud by Austria and Tuscany!" and "Fraud Scheme Involving Over 30 Million Francs Exposed!"
While French industrialists cursed the scammers' audacity, many secretly felt relieved. The scam had been uncovered early, so they had only produced about a third of the orders. After deducting deposits, their losses were manageable.
At a salon in Lyon, several textile factory owners gathered, angrily discussing the situation.
"I have less than 20,000 francs left. If this had been discovered a month later, I would've been bankrupt!"
"Exactly! I borrowed 150,000 francs from the bank for this order and nearly spent it all on cotton…"
"Damn those Austrians!"
Some, however, seemed more relaxed. "About a month and a half ago, His Royal Highness the Prince advised us to control our production. Perhaps he already suspected something."
His factory, partially owned by the Industrial Development Fund, had been forced to reduce production significantly at the fund committee's request. As a result, his losses were minimal.
Nearby, a high-ranking member of the Lyon Textile Guild lowered his voice and said, "You're correct. I've heard that the batch of goods Tiersilin Company shipped to Tuscany was sourced by His Highness from Nantes and Lyon. Otherwise, they couldn't have fulfilled the order so quickly."
"Those goods exposed the fraud!" someone exclaimed in shock.
"This must have been His Highness's foresight! Oh, God, he truly is heaven's chosen one…"
The factory owners, having narrowly avoided disaster, were filled with gratitude.
"Thank you, Prince!"
"His Highness saved my factory!"
"A toast to the Prince!"
Just as they raised their glasses, an official from the Lyon Textile Guild burst in, signaling for the musicians to stop. Ignoring decorum, he jumped onto a table and shouted, "A notice just arrived from Versailles! All factories that suffered losses in this scam will receive compensation equal to 12% of their order value!
"Go to the city hall to register immediately—and don't forget your contracts!"
The salon erupted into cheers. Guests rushed out, leaving the hostess, Baroness Leo, helplessly watching the chaos.
This money, of course, came from the 4.5 million francs extracted from the Duke of Leeds through the "discounted deals."
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