Chapter 248 - 250
Chapter 248: Dutch’s Investigation
Robbing the tram station was a disastrously flawed plan—a trap Bronte had laid specifically for Dutch and the others.
That said, Dutch did carry out his own investigation beforehand.
If this were a game, after Dutch finished speaking, choosing to jump off the balcony and follow him would show that he truly went to Saint Denis to scout things out.
Saint Denis.
Dutch arrived in the city and began observing the tram system closely.
Bronte hadn’t lied to him. The tram station really did hold a large amount of cash.
Because the money couldn’t be deposited every day, and because change had to be kept on hand, Dutch saw stacks of dollars sitting inside the tram station’s safe.
He didn’t know the exact amount, but it was certainly no less than several thousand dollars—more than enough to justify a robbery.
In Dutch’s eyes, the tram station had almost no visible security. It looked like an easy job.
What Dutch didn’t know was that the moment he entered Saint Denis, someone was already watching him.
Bronte had an extensive network of informants throughout the city, including many underage children.
Kids were everywhere, and that didn’t raise any suspicion for Dutch. But the moment he began investigating the tram station, his actions were reported back to Bronte.
By the time Dutch left, Bronte had already received the news.
“Looks like he really did take the bait, Martelli.”
Rue Flavienne, inside Bronte’s mansion.
After hearing Martelli’s report, Bronte smiled.
“He’ll probably make his move on the tram station within the next few days.”
“I’ll have people watching the Old Bridge route. They’ll stay there the whole time.”
“If they show up, I’ll notify Chief Benjamin immediately.”
Martelli replied respectfully. The city’s street children were largely under his supervision.
Bronte nodded, but when Chief Benjamin was mentioned, a trace of displeasure crossed his face.
“Benjamin’s appetite has been getting bigger and bigger lately. Those pests are hardly worth two thousand dollars.”
“And they’ve got bounties on their heads—no small ones, either.”
“And that greedy mayor… perhaps we should find a chance to remind them to keep their appetites in check.”
Hearing Bronte’s dissatisfaction, Martelli thought for a moment before offering his own suggestion.
“Mr. Bronte, perhaps we don’t need to notify the police.”
“We have enough men. According to our investigation, there are only a few of them. Their shooting is decent, but I’m confident we can take them down.”
“That way, we save money and still collect their bounties.”
Martelli thought it was a solid idea. Unexpectedly, it earned him a harsh rebuke from Bronte.
“You brainless idiot, Martelli.”
“Maybe I should throw you into the sea for a swim—might clear your head.”
“In this city, we have many enemies. They fear me, but we cannot let them fear us even more. That would put things beyond our control.”
“The rules of this city cannot be broken unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?”
“If we display firepower greater than the police themselves, do you have any idea what kind of consequences that would bring?”
“Idiot. Go notify the tram operators. Tell them to deposit all their takings into the bank for the next few days.”
“I’m sure they’ll be grateful.”
Bronte might have been arrogant and conceited, but his political instincts were sharp.
The fact that he had grown the mafia in Saint Denis to such a level was proof enough of his ability.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bronte. I was thinking too simply,”
Martelli said quickly, apologizing when he saw Bronte’s anger.
Bronte didn’t truly blame him. In his eyes, Martelli only needed to be capable of getting things done—that was precisely why he had made him his second-in-command.
Bronte never believed Martelli had the ability to oppose him.
And in truth, that assessment was correct.
If Bronte hadn’t eventually been killed by Dutch, perhaps he really could have carved out a legend of his own in Saint Denis.
“Mr. Bronte, there’s one more matter—about that casino ship,” Martelli added.
“They’ve sent an invitation, hoping you’ll attend.”
“They say there will be many wealthy guests, and the scale is quite large.”
Martelli’s gaze flickered slightly. That casino ship had some connection to him.
After all, he currently ran the largest underground casino in Saint Denis, in partnership with Davey’s younger brother.
Even Bronte was unaware of this. For several years now, Bronte had largely stopped involving himself in those kinds of under-the-table operations.
Without Martelli and Mac’s approval, that gambling ship wouldn’t have been able to dock at the Saint Denis port at all.
“A boring little trick. Throw the invitation in the trash,” Bronte said flatly.
Bronte had no taste for gambling. Clearly, a gambler could never have reached his current position.
“As you wish, Mr. Bronte,” Martelli replied.
Martelli felt a quiet sense of relief. He had brought it up precisely because he knew Bronte wouldn’t go.
Still, invitations had been sent to all the major figures in Saint Denis. If Bronte hadn’t received one, it would have easily aroused his suspicion.
...
Chapter 249: Dividing the Profits
Saint Denis, Rue Flavienne, the Land Mansion.
This was the city’s wealthy district. Davey’s residence was here, as was Bronte’s, along with the mayor’s mansion.
Inside the main hall,
Davey idly toyed with the finely crafted invitation in his hand.
“Mac, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got a hand in this gambling ship as well,” he said.
“After all, you run a casino together with Martelli. Without your approval, that ship wouldn’t have been able to dock at the port of Saint Denis.”
“So tell me—what role are you playing in this?”
Davey hadn’t originally planned to get involved with the gambling ship.
As for the things Arthur and the others were doing, there was no real need for him to step in anymore.
At his current stage, it simply didn’t hold much significance.
What he hadn’t expected was for the invitation to end up in his own hands.
“Alright, Davey. I knew I couldn’t keep it from you—especially once I sent you the invitation,” Mac said helplessly.
“I originally planned to have someone else deliver it, but if you went, you’d have found out anyway.”
Mac sighed inwardly. His brother was too sharp—sometimes that wasn’t a good thing.
“You’re right, Davey. This does have a lot to do with me and Martelli,” he admitted.
“A few days ago, the people behind this casino ship contacted us, looking to cooperate.”
“They’ve got plenty of resources and connections with wealthy people. But if they tried to open a casino here without permission, I’d make sure they learned a lesson.”
“Twenty percent, split between Martelli and me. This game is on a large scale—there should be a lot of money involved. Way more than what we make from the small casino under the Saint Denis hotel.”
“Of course, we also have to guarantee their safety. Besides connecting them with Saint Denis’s rich crowd, we need to make sure nothing goes wrong during the event.”
Mac laid everything out honestly, but Davey looked more disappointed than impressed.
“Mac, I really don’t know what to say about you—and that Martelli idiot,” Davey said coldly.
“Just twenty percent, and that’s enough for you to agree to the gambling ship?”
“When you should be greedy, you’re not. When you shouldn’t be greedy, you’re greedier than anyone else. I really don’t know what to say about you, my stupid little brother.”
Being scolded like that, Mac scratched the back of his head.
“Alright, when you put it that way, it does sound like too little. Split between Martelli and me, that’s only ten percent each.”
“So what should I be asking for? Thirty percent? Or forty?”
“Maybe thirty percent is reasonable. Forty might be pushing it—they probably wouldn’t agree.”
Davey was at a loss for words.
You’re a hardened outlaw, and yet when it comes to this, you suddenly get cautious—where did all that nerve go?
“If they don’t agree, then there’s no need for this gambling operation to happen at all,” Davey said flatly.
“Tell them fifty percent. If they don’t accept it, they can get out of Saint Denis. This isn’t a place where they can run wild.”
“You and Martelli split thirty percent. The remaining twenty percent goes to Officer Trappett at the Saint Denis Police Department.”
Davey needed to give Trappett some benefits—enough leverage for him to stand his ground against Chief Benjamin.
That money wasn’t just for Trappett alone; it was also meant as a benefit for the Saint Denis Police Department as a whole.
Davey trusted that Trappett knew how to distribute it properly, which would increase his influence within the department.
But hearing Davey’s arrangement, Mac was clearly unhappy.
“Those idiots at the station can’t handle anything. Why should they get this money for nothing?”
“We don’t really need to give it to them. It’s pointless, Davey.”
Davey shot Mac a calm but piercing look and rebuked him.
“Do exactly as I say, Mac. I won’t repeat myself.”
“Officer Trappett is working with me. We need the strength of the Saint Denis Police Department.”
“There are many things you can’t solve quietly behind the scenes—especially in a city like this.”
“Fine, maybe I shouldn’t even bother explaining all this. I doubt you’d understand it anyway.”
“So just follow my instructions. Understood, Mac?”
Mac clearly didn’t understand, but once he heard that Trappett was cooperating with his brother, he had nothing more to say.
“Alright. I’ll do as you say, Davey,” he replied.
“Maybe you’re right. You’ve never been wrong, ever since we left the Van der Linde Gang.”
“I heard you caused quite a stir at the mayor’s banquet last night. Maybe you should take me along sometime, let me see Saint Denis’s high society for myself.”
Seeing the envy on Mac’s face, Davey smiled.
“My brother, next time there’s a banquet, I’ll definitely bring you along,” he said.
“But I don’t think you’d enjoy it.”
“A bunch of self-important people wearing fake smiles, either flattering others or praising themselves.”
“Though there are a few exceptions—some rather special friends.”
Hearing that, Mac’s interest faded quickly.
“Alright, from the way you describe it, it does sound pretty boring,” he said.
“But maybe I should still see it for myself.”
Davey nodded.
“You will,” he said calmly.
“Soon enough, Mac.”
...
Chapter 250: A Kind Man
Saint Denis.
Arthur was wandering the streets, calling it an investigation for lack of a better word.
Most of the gang members were busy with their own tasks—Dutch was looking into the tram system, while Bill and Hosea were investigating the Lemoyne Bank.
Strauss and Trelawny were planning their move regarding the casino ship docked at the Saint Denis harbor.
As one of the gang’s core members, Arthur felt he ought to be doing something as well.
So he came to Saint Denis, hoping he might stumble onto something useful.
“Excuse me, sir, I’m collecting donations for the poor.”
“Hey, kind gentleman, would you be willing to help those in need?”
Arthur stopped when he heard the voice beside him. It was a monk dressed in simple, worn clothing.
“I’m not a good man, sir,” Arthur said.
He found it a little amusing—dressed like a cowboy, how had he ended up being singled out?
“No, you are a good man, sir,” the monk replied.
“I can feel the kindness in your heart.”
The monk spoke with complete sincerity.
“I’m a pretty unpleasant fellow, monk,” Arthur said, his tone tinged with self-mockery, thoughts of Mary surfacing in his mind.
“You’re mistaken on two points, sir,” the monk said calmly.
“I’m only a humble confessor, not a priest.”
“Second, you are a truly remarkable man.”
“You may have made some wrong choices, but who among us hasn’t?”
Arthur let out a short, humorless laugh.
“You really don’t understand.”
The monk continued evenly.
“But you understand. And God understands. That’s enough for me.”
“And it’s enough for God as well.”
The monk’s words stirred something in Arthur, though he still replied stubbornly,
“We’ll see.”
“You will, sir,” the monk answered gently.
“But why not make a small preparation and give a little to the poor?”
“Tonight, many souls will go hungry.”
Arthur hesitated for a moment, then pulled a few one-dollar coins from his pocket and dropped them into the monk’s bowl.
“God bless you, sir,” the monk said.
Arthur’s view of the monk shifted slightly. Maybe he wasn’t begging for himself after all.
“By the way,” Arthur said, “how have things been for you lately?”
“Unfortunately, the world’s grown rather cold.”
Arthur thought for a moment before replying,
“My… uh… my mentor says the United States has a way of numbing the despair in people’s hearts, even drawing it out.”
The monk, who had been about to leave, stopped and said with admiration,
“That’s a wonderful insight.”
“Your mentor must be a very wise man.”
Arthur thought of Dutch and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, sometimes he’s a complete fool. But most of the time, he’s one of the smartest people I know.”
As he said that, Davey’s face briefly crossed his mind.
“That’s truly remarkable,” the monk said.
“The truth is, I… we can never truly escape poverty.”
“Slavery—I thought it had already been abolished.”
“But Saint Denis is being used as a transit point, sending slaves to certain islands.”
Arthur frowned.
“I don’t believe it. It’s 1899.”
“Then perhaps you should see it for yourself,” the monk replied.
“I’ve heard the pawnbroker down that street—the green pawnshop on the corner—”
“People say he sells far more than trinkets and jewelry.”
Hearing this, Arthur immediately decided to pay the pawnshop a visit.
Sure enough, once inside, he noticed something was off. There was a basement.
The shop clerk tried to talk him out of it, but Arthur ignored him completely.
Realizing the secret was about to be exposed, the clerk hurried out to report it.
In the basement, Arthur found two slaves chained up. After freeing them, he brought them back to the monk.
The monk thanked him profusely and prepared to take them somewhere safe.
“Hey, you forgot this,” Arthur said, picking up the bowl from the ground along with the dollar he had just given.
“Oh—yes, thank you,” the monk said, taking it.
But after looking at the dollar in the bowl, he held it out again.
“I… I’ll give this to you… as a reward, to show my gratitude,” he said.
“I couldn’t have saved them on my own.”
Arthur glanced at the money and shook his head.
“Give it to the poor,” he said.
The monk didn’t hesitate any longer. They needed to leave quickly.
“Thank you, sir,” the monk said earnestly. “Just as I said—you’re remarkable.”
Arthur watched them leave, feeling that, at the very least, he had done one good thing today.
At that moment,
the pawnshop clerk had already passed the message along.
Human trafficking had always been an enormously profitable business, one with staggering returns.
In the past, it had been legal. But in 1865, President Lincoln of the United States issued the Emancipation Proclamation, declaring enslaved Black people free.
This move fundamentally weakened the rebellious Southern states and turned the tide of the Civil War, bringing it to an end.
Still, there were always people unwilling to give up such a lucrative trade.
And in Saint Denis, the one operating the slave trade was Bronte.
Or rather—Martelli.
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