Lange appeared very restrained as he greeted Vergniaud and introduced himself before handing over a letter to the chief justice.
After confirming that the seal on the envelope was intact, Vergniaud slowly opened it, casually inquiring about the situation on Valjean’s end.
The Police Affairs Department already had a clear grasp of these matters, so Lange naturally flowed with his responses.
Only then did Vergniaud take out his glasses to start reading the letter.
In the letter, Valjean began by recalling some past events between the two and then mentioned that Lange, who brought this letter, was his most loyal servant and could be fully trusted.
It had been three or four years since Vergniaud had last seen Valjean, but he vaguely remembered a servant named Lange at his good friend’s side.
He continued reading further.
In the letter, Valjean conveyed that one of his cousins, namely Viscount Monteli, had become entangled in a lawsuit. Valjean had only learned about the case from the newspapers recently and discovered that the presiding judge was an old friend of his, prompting him to ask for a favor.
As he was not feeling well lately, he sent his servant to Paris to handle the lawsuit first but would visit his old friend as soon as the weather warmed up.
Then he expressed his hope that Vergniaud could be as lenient as possible in his sentence for Runashe. As for the expenses involved in making arrangements, the Monteli Family had already prepared everything and would certainly not put the old friend in a tough spot.
Yes, on Vergniaud’s end, Monteli’s relative had changed to Valjean.
Vergniaud put the letter away and said to Lange, “I will certainly help with Victor’s issue. However, that young man has gone too far, and with witnesses, he must at least face whipping and over thirty years of imprisonment.”
Lange nodded, then nervously rubbed his hands together and said, “Earl, actually, my master means that it would be best if the verdict could be not guilty…”
Vergniaud was about to shake his head when Lange’s next sentence made his eyelids twitch, “Viscount Monteli is willing to pay thirty-five thousand livres.”
After a moment of silence, Vergniaud sighed and said, “The matter with the witnesses is not easy to handle…”
“We will find a way,” Lange said.
Suddenly, Vergniaud turned and waved his hand, “Go back for now, I will give you an answer in a few days.”
That very afternoon, when Vergniaud returned home, he immediately wrote a letter, sealed it with wax, and then summoned his trusted servant Bruno to deliver it to Caen as quickly as possible, to be given to Viscount Valjean.
Before Bruno could mount the carriage, Vergniaud’s “glazier” relayed the news to the Police Affairs Department officers who had been waiting outside the villa.
Vergniaud’s trusted servant traveled nonstop for two days and finally arrived in Caen.
This small city had only one main road leading to Paris. At this time, the street vendors on either side of the road were huddled up, lackluster in attracting business.
Bruno consulted a map, got out of the carriage, and walked to the nearest vendor to ask where Viscount Valjean’s house was.
Valjean, being the “Deputy Mayor” of Caen, was known to everyone. After receiving five deniers, the vendor eagerly pointed him in the right direction.
Bruno resumed his journey and after nearing the city center, got out of the carriage again to stop a young man for directions.
Just as the young man was about to respond, he saw a fight break out nearby, quickly approaching them, and he immediately turned and walked away.
Bruno looked around, grabbed a middle-aged man passing by, and inquired about the location of Viscount Valjean’s house, receiving the same answer as from the vendor.
By the time Bruno reached the Valjean family’s villa, it was twilight.
A manservant warmly ushered him into the house, while he observed the Valjean family’s coat of arms on the walls and staircase railings, nodding to himself in approval.
Then, he saw the Viscount Valjean, wrapped up tightly because he was ill, nodding at him from the second floor.
Bruno hastily handed the master’s letter to the manservant, who then went upstairs to deliver it to Valjean.
About half an hour later, Bruno received a reply from Viscount Valjean and immediately set off back to Paris under the cover of night.
However, he failed to notice that the gardener and other servants in the mansion were identical to the peddlers he had seen on the main road entering Caen.
And the maid who served him tea was actually one of the people involved in the fight downtown, only now in women’s clothes—the Police Affairs Department really was short on female spies, so he had to play the role.
As for the “Valjean” who greeted him, under the dim light and from such a distance, with a bit of makeup, even Valjean’s own mother probably wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.
The true whereabouts of the Valjean household was actually still some kilometers away…
Once Bruno returned to Paris and handed over the reply to Vergniaud, declaring that he had seen Viscount Valjean and even had tea at his home.
This couldn’t be blamed on his incompetence. In this age of severely underdeveloped communication, it was indeed difficult to verify the identity of someone in a distant city within a short period. Even if he had gone straight to the city hall, the Police Affairs Department had long since planted someone there, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the “Viscount Valjean” from a distance.
By then, Vergniaud no longer had any doubts, immediately had Lange summoned, and informed him that he could arrange for Runashe’s acquittal, but due to the magnitude of the case, it would cost 40,000 livres.
Lange agreed straight away, though he hoped the trial would commence soon because Viscount Valjean’s young nephew, that is, Runashe, who had lived a life of luxury since childhood, couldn’t bear the torment of prison.
Vergniaud, of course, readily agreed.
After Lange returned to Viscount Monteli’s house to report the news, he found a doctor, and on the pretense that the eyewitness of the Runashe case often got drunk and beat his wife, he paid the doctor to provide a certificate that the witness had mental issues.
The Montelis mortgaged their villa and painting shop, and after scraping together funds, could only muster a little over 30,000 livres. With no other choice, Lange “dug into his own pockets” and supplemented them with 6,500 livres.
With everything ready, Lange repeatedly instructed their “cousin” that, as relatives of the accused, they must avoid excessive contact with the judge, and then he led them outside Vergniaud’s villa.
Viscount Monteli handed the bank notes to the judge Vergniaud’s servant and saw the Grand Judge nodding to him from a window, which finally set his heavy heart at ease.
Lange then visited Vergniaud’s home that evening on behalf of his master to express sincere thanks and requested Vergniaud to write a letter of reply, confirming his successful completion of the mission.
Vergniaud, having just made 40,000 livres, was in high spirits and at once wrote three pages, mostly expressing to an old friend the great effort he had put into the case, suggesting he remember this favor, while also commending the manservant.
Lange then left with the letter.
A few days later, another messenger from Valjean delivered a letter of gratitude from his master to Vergniaud.
The Grand Judge read the letter once and immediately burned it, reminding the messenger to tell Valjean to burn all recent correspondence.
He had been involved in too many cases of miscarriage of justice to not understand the importance of destroying evidence.
Five days later, Runashe’s case was reopened in court.
First, the eyewitness was proved to have mental issues, invalidating his testimony.
Then it was discovered that the so-called relics found in Runashe’s home did not belong to the victim—this was, of course, the result of Vergniaud tampering with evidence in the evidence room.