Chapter 505: Astronomical Penalty Fees
Fulde was shocked. "Has Brienne lost his mind? Does he intend to shut down the government entirely?"
Hope raised a hand to interrupt, frowning slightly. "Please calm yourself. Brienne is most likely bluffing. You see this often with merchants—they want to buy something but pretend to walk away to negotiate a better price."
"But... what if Brienne really has secured 200 million francs?" Charles asked nervously. "What do we do then?"
The financial titans in the room couldn't afford to let their assets sit idle. Much of their capital belonged to other investors, often tied up in long-term agreements.
This meant they were constantly paying out interest. If their funds didn't generate sufficient profits, they would face substantial losses.
Bororay scoffed. "There's no way the government could raise that kind of money. I'll bet you anything—Brienne will come crawling back to us within ten days."
"But what if the government does cancel the tax farming system? We need to prepare for that possibility!"
Hope considered this for a moment, then nodded. "You're right. We need to be proactive. The key question is whether the government has actually raised enough funds to keep itself running."
Fulde immediately added, "Such a large sum would have to be deposited in a bank. With the connections we have through the tax farmers' association, finding out isn't impossible."
Tax farming was one of the hottest investments in France at the time. Everyone from royalty to ordinary landowners might be part of the association. Even a scholar like Lavoisier had invested hundreds of thousands of livres to farm tobacco taxes in a certain region.
This broad involvement gave the tax farmers' association an extensive network across French society. Protecting their interests, members were more than willing to provide intelligence when necessary. Fulde's confidence came from this network.
Hope nodded. "Then I'll leave this matter to you. Use whatever means necessary to find out how much money Brienne has raised, and do it quickly."
The gathering of influential figures at the hunting grounds immediately shifted their focus to discussing the tax farming negotiations. The mood for hunting evaporated, leaving their servants to wander with the hunting dogs aimlessly.
London City Hall.
Herbert, the Mayor of London, glared angrily at the Lightning Coal Mining Company's manager, who stood before him with a bowed head.
"It's been two whole months, and apart from the coal storage and office buildings, not a single piece of critical equipment has been installed at the distillation plant!"
As the person directly overseeing the London gas streetlamp project, Herbert's political future hinged on its success. He checked on the project's progress every few days.
Yet after two months, all that had been accomplished were numerous trenches across London's streets for pipeline installation and a few nonessential buildings at the distillation plant.
Steller, the manager, wore an expression of bitter helplessness. After a long pause, he finally stammered, "Your Honor, the construction of the dry distillation retort actually began last month…"
"But I see nothing," Herbert interrupted.
"Well, there have been some… technical personnel issues," Steller explained with a shrug. "Our chief technician, Mr. Hannes, ran off earlier this month with his wife's younger sister and all their assets…"
"?!?"
"I heard he had invested in a shipping company that went bankrupt, leaving him thousands of pounds in debt. To escape his creditors, he fled to America—or maybe Brazil, I'm not sure.
"Before, all the technical details for the dry distillation retort were handled by Hannes. Since his disappearance, progress has been unavoidably delayed."
Before Herbert could explode with anger, Steller quickly added, "But don't worry, Your Honor. The technical blueprints are still intact. Once our other technicians familiarize themselves with them, construction will resume immediately."
Herbert took a deep breath and said sternly, "I don't want to see any further delays. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to deduct your company's penalty fees as outlined in the contract!"
"Of course, Your Honor. I will do everything I can to make up for lost time," Steller assured him with a stream of placating remarks before leaving.
Back in his office, Steller calmly instructed his servant to brew tea, then settled down with a newspaper to relax.
His true mission was to delay the project.
This was just the beginning. Captain Deloney had prepared a series of excuses for him:
First, the chief technician fleeing to escape debt.Next, the discovery of a corpse at the construction site. The police, already bribed, would investigate the scene repeatedly, delaying work by at least two weeks. Steller himself would be a suspect, subjected to a month of questioning before being cleared.Then, several technicians would disappear after a winter swimming bet in the Thames. The company would organize a large-scale search operation, wasting another month.Finally, Hannes's wife might set fire to the coal storage facility after discovering her husband sneaking back to retrieve property deeds.
In short, the Lightning Coal Mining Company would be plagued by "bad luck" for the next year, consistently making headlines. City Hall, no matter how frustrated, would have no choice but to endure.
Naturally, the company would face penalty fees for delays. The contract with London City Hall stipulated exorbitant penalties for missing deadlines.
Did Steller care about these penalties? Not in the slightest. They would simply deduct the fees from the project's budget of £260,000. Even with deductions, the sum was more than sufficient.
Steller might even claim "cash flow issues" and request that penalties not be deducted from the initial payment.
At the same time, since the company hadn't committed major breaches—such as incompetence or maliciously halting work—City Hall couldn't terminate the contract without paying a hefty cancellation fee of £100,000.
Even if City Hall decided to cut ties, the subcontractors—who had already advanced significant funds—would lobby to reverse the decision. Lightning Coal hadn't paid them yet.
South of Paris.
In a somber tone, Fulde addressed the gathered tax farming magnates. "I've looked into it, and the situation is more serious than we thought."
"What happened?" someone asked anxiously.
"My contacts at the bank confirmed that over the past three months, more than 100 million francs have been deposited into the government's accounts. Moreover, the funds are continuing to flow in at a rate of 10 million francs per week. At this rate, they'll reach 200 million by early December."
The group was stunned.
"Where did Brienne get that money?"
"This is impossible!"
"Are you certain? Could it be an error?"
Fulde shook his head grimly. "My friends at the Caisse d'Escompte verified it independently. The records are clear. Additionally, funds have been disbursed to various provincial accounts."
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