Chapter 62 Firewall

Gabriel disdainfully puffed a cloud of cigar smoke from his mouth, thrusting out his somewhat startlingly large belly as he replied to Chief Gigo: "Oh, come on, Gigo, my old friend, you know as well as I do what the rates at *Le Petit Parisien* are like. How many sous per line could they possibly offer that poor young fellow?"

Chief Gigo did not wish to dwell on the matter. He pushed *Le Petit Parisien* aside, pulled a thick volume with a plain cover from his drawer, and tossed it in front of Gabriel: "Let's talk about this, Gab."

Unflustered, Gabriel picked up the thick book from the desk, flipped through it with a glance, and then placed it back down, spreading his hands: "Ah, *The Decadent City*, what a splendid title."

Chief Gigo was evidently displeased with his attitude; even with the man sending him at least ten thousand francs in "sponsorship fees" every year, such perfunctoriness was unacceptable. He abruptly stood up, leaned in close to Gabriel's face, and warned him, word by word: "Mr. Marurel, Bishop Guibert is paying a great deal of attention to this book right now, and he is already preparing to report the matter to the assembly. Do you still think you can skate past this with money or other means? I hope you can give me a good reason!"

Only then did Gabriel look slightly more serious, though he remained thoroughly unconcerned—his annual donations to the Paris Association for the Promotion of Good Books were even more substantial. He straightened up a bit: "Yes, I published this book. Furthermore, I have already registered the copyright with the Bureau of Books and Libraries, and it is protected by the Law on Literary and Artistic Property of 1793."

Chief Gigo had not expected him to admit it so readily, let alone claim that *The Decadent City* was registered for copyright, and could not help feeling somewhat surprised. He sat back down in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and thought for a moment before speaking again: "Don't you know that publishing such a novel is a major taboo? Bishop Guibert has demanded that we immediately arrest the publisher and the author."

Ever since the French Penal Code of 1810 introduced provisions prohibiting "obscene" and "public-decency-offending" works, the Paris Police Prefecture had maintained a specialized department dedicated to Public Morals. In 1857, Gustave Flaubert's *Madame Bovary* was accused of "insulting morality and religion"; even though it ultimately resulted in an acquittal, the ordeal shook the literary world to its core. Times had changed. After the establishment of the Republican government in 1871, censorship of obscene books had relaxed considerably, yet Gabriel—an openly active publisher and newspaper owner—was the very first to dare push things this far.

Gabriel chuckled: "What crime has it actually committed to warrant such a massive fuss from you and Bishop Guibert?"

Fuming, Chief Gigo jabbed a finger at the cover of *The Decadent City*: "I originally thought this was printed under your name by those rats who only dare hide in the sewers, but to think you actually admit to it! Mr. Marurel, I have shown great restraint regarding the jokes and gossip you usually publish in *The Clamor*—but the obscene descriptions inside this book have crossed the line. If you are willing to give up the author—well, who 'An Honest Parisian' is—perhaps it might mitigate your offense!"

Gabriel's smile did not fade at this; instead, it grew even brighter. With absolute assurance, he opened the copy of *The Decadent City* on his desk once more: "Obscene? Good heavens, my dear Gigo, what are you talking about? Can you find a single obscene word in here? Organs, actions, postures... Take another close look!"

Chief Gigo froze. Staring blankly at the glaring string of characters on the opened page—"□□□□□□□□□□□□ (15 lines deleted here)"—he was momentarily at a loss for words.

At that moment, Gabriel assumed a grave expression, speaking with the utmost righteousness: "Respected Chief Gigo, it is precisely out of a sense of responsibility toward the morals and souls of the people of Paris and France that those contents were deleted; they will never corrupt anyone! Although certain descriptions in *The Decadent City* are open to debate, the book itself is an exceptional naturalist novel! Just like the works written by Mr. Zola. If it were truly a novel promoting obscenity, how could the Bureau of Books and Libraries have ever agreed to let me register its copyright?"

With a gloomy expression, Chief Gigo pulled a thin booklet from his drawer and slammed it heavily onto the desk: "Deleted? Then how do you explain this?"

Putting on an exaggerated act, Gabriel picked it up, glanced inside, and then tossed it back onto the desk as if it had scorched his fingers: "Good God! The devil! Only the devil could write such blasphemous text!"

Thinking that this acting was utterly crude, Chief Gigo cast a look of contempt: "What, wasn't this booklet sold alongside *The Decadent City*? You printed all the deleted content right on here! Damn it, just a glance at the words inside is enough to make anyone depraved!"

Gabriel crossed himself over his chest and immediately began protesting his innocence: "Lord! I, Gabriel Marurel, have been a law-abiding businessman all my life, and I never engage in exploiting legal loopholes like this! Look here—this booklet bears neither a title nor the names of an author and a publisher. It must have been written by some underground rat who grew envious of our *The Decadent City*, paying off some shameless, vulgar scribbler to do it. You must bring them to justice!"

Left utterly speechless, Chief Gigo took the booklet and flipped through it, discovering that it indeed contained no information whatsoever regarding a publisher or author. The two booklets had been presented to him by his subordinates at the same time, and he had simply assumed they were a matched set. Yet, prompted by Gabriel's reminder, he realized that, theoretically speaking, the thick volume and the thin booklet were completely independent entities.

Giving the smiling Gabriel across the desk a long, deep look, Chief Gigo sighed helplessly: "I hope you can use this line of reasoning to convince Bishop Guibert!—Still, you can at least tell me who 'An Honest Parisian' is, can't you?"

Gabriel shrugged: "I haven't the faintest idea. He always submits his work anonymously, and we communicate solely through mail."

Chief Gigo flashed a sarcastic smile: "Oh? Our all-knowing Gabriel Marurel doesn't know who he's paying large sums of royalties to? Well, let's hope Bishop Guibert believes that story as well."

With that, he waved a hand, signaling for Gabriel to leave.

Gabriel did not linger. He stood up, picked up his cane, bowed to Chief Gigo, and strolled out unhurriedly.

As he watched Gabriel's broad back disappear from the police station, Chief Gigo suddenly remembered something and shouted, "Claude! Claude!"

A moment later, a shrewd and capable-looking man appeared in his office: "At your service, Chief!"

Chief Gigo asked: "That case from a while ago, where the Sorbonne student accused the manager of the Orby Trading Company of fraudulent betrothal and swindling 5,000 francs from his family in the Alps—how is that handling coming along?"

Detective Claude scratched his head: "Well, the case happened in the Alps after all, and we haven't been able to confirm whether the fellow really was the manager of the Orby Trading Company..."

Knowing that his subordinate had simply buried the case under some forgotten stack of files, Chief Gigo handed *Le Petit Parisien* over to Detective Claude: "I recall the person who filed the report was named Léonard Sorel, wasn't he?"

Looking somewhat bewildered, Detective Claude replied, "Yes..." before catching sight of the name on the newspaper: "Is... is it him?"

Chief Gigo nodded: "He carries a bit of influence now, so you need to put some effort into that case. If he takes the matter to the journalists at *Le Petit Parisien*..."

Instantly catching the implication, Detective Claude saluted smartly: "I will solve the case as soon as possible!"

---

Downstairs at the Paris Police Prefecture, Gabriel Marurel climbed into the carriage waiting for him, only then truly allowing himself to exhale a sigh of relief.

Right after, his thoughts drifted to the letter from "An Honest Parisian" that had arrived alongside the novel: *"...I believe *The Decadent City* should be sold in at least two different versions..."*

What a bloody genius!

At that moment, the coachman asked, "Sir, are we heading home now?"

Gabriel Marurel first let out a hum, and then said: "To Notre-Dame. I'm going to have a meeting with Bishop Guibert!"