Excessive Taxes, Wheat Yield Manipulation, Tax Evasion (7)
“I’ll be taking this jewel.”
I seized the red gemstone he had prepared as a bribe. It would serve as useful evidence of his attempt to buy an inspector.
Everything else he owned would be forfeit to the imperial treasury the moment the court handed down its verdict. Imperial law was not so soft as to show mercy to criminals. The problem lay with those who enforced the law—not with the law itself.
After that, I escorted him to prison myself. He said nothing the entire ride in the carriage, staring blankly at the floor in utter desolation.
Once I had him locked up under provisional detention, I stood for a moment looking through the iron bars—and was about to walk away when a voice stopped me.
“Caenderic. You’ll regret this. Someone—if not me—will come for your throat.”
I halted and turned back to him. At some point, his gaze had fixed on me.
“Have you ever watched an empire fall?”
“What on earth are you—”
“Of course you haven’t. That’s why you can do something like this.”
People like you are the reason the Empire dies.
I swallowed the words and walked on. There was no point saying anything to men like him.
I don’t know how much time passed before I returned to the Inspectorate. The moment I stepped through the entrance, I felt a great many eyes on me. Inspectors lingering in the corridor had turned as one.
It was hardly surprising. A brand-new inspector had just thrown Marquis Geneva—who funneled staggering sums of under-the-table money into the Inspectorate—into a cell.
Still, the reason none of them said a word to me had nothing to do with some noble conviction that I had done the right thing. They were simply afraid of the Lichtenhouse name.
Men who ought to fear no power in the Empire were trembling over a single house. It was almost laughable. Of course people like that would wallow in corruption.
I let out a short breath and kept walking. Along the corridor I came to the office of the 1st Division. When I opened the door, every gaze in the room swung toward me as if on cue. There were only three of them, so it wasn’t particularly oppressive. I gave Lena and Frenzy a brief nod and headed for Chief Albert.
“Marquis Geneva has been placed under provisional detention until he stands trial.”
“Good work.”
“Thank you.”
“Once the verdict comes down, write it up in a report and submit it.”
“Yes, sir.”
That was the end of our exchange. Short as it was, I had no complaints—if anything, I preferred it. No time wasted on idle personal talk. I went straight to my desk and began preparing for Marquis Geneva’s trial: drafting summons for witnesses, arranging the evidence I already held into a clearer order.
Come to think of it, who would be assigned as judge for this case? Almost certainly some creature already steeped in corruption. Laying a little groundwork on our end beforehand didn’t sound like a bad idea.
“I truly don’t know what to make of this.”
“L-Luminus, Inspector—!”
“Hush. You mustn’t raise your voice. Quietly, if you please.”
Someone appeared before the imprisoned Marquis Geneva. Like Caenderic, he wore a clean, well-cut suit: Luminus de Cron, a senior inspector of considerable experience from the Inspectorate’s 3rd Division.
The marquis clung to the bars on his knees, desperation dripping from every line of his face.
“W-we’re on the same side, aren’t we? Please—get me out of this horrible place.”
“I’m afraid that will be difficult. The other side is holding far too much evidence.”
“Th-that can’t be…!”
The marquis crumpled. His hands slid from the bars and hit the floor. But only for a moment.
“I anticipated as much and have already made arrangements with the judge. When the trial opens, you will walk free with a not-guilty verdict. Endure until then.”
“I-is that true?”
“Yes—though not free of charge, of course.”
“A-ah, if it’s money you want, I’ll give you as much as you need—!”
Hope lit the marquis’s face. Then that hope twisted into rage and hatred, and the target of those feelings was, naturally, Caenderic.
“Do something about that man—! Money is no object—!”
“It will likely take care of itself. Wall posters will go up along the lines of: the underperforming 1st Division dragged an innocent man onto the stand.”
“Th-that’s excellent—! Put up two—no, three sheets each. I’ll cover the cost.”
The marquis wore a greasy smile—the sort of garbage smile only the thoroughly corrupt could manage. Inspector Luminus regarded him for a moment, then inclined his head lightly.
“You needn’t worry. The ties we have built will not be severed by something as small as this.”
“Yes, yes—! How very reassuring—!”
A few days after Marquis Geneva’s detention, information on his trial was released. I hummed under my breath as I slowly read through the official notice. What mattered, of course, was the judge assigned to the case.
Presiding Judge — Sturken de Kilian
The Kilian countship was a house in the southwestern reaches of the Imperial Capital. The Geneva marquisate lay in the southwest as well; geographically, they were not far apart.
But proximity was not merely a matter of geography. The Kilian countship was part of Marquis Geneva’s faction. At banquets I had attended in my previous life, I had seen the two of them stuck together more times than I could count.
In short: these people still hadn’t learned their lesson, and now they had their hands on the trial itself. If things continued as they were, Marquis Geneva would either walk free or receive the lightest of slaps on the wrist.
How was there not a single sound corner left in this country? I was beginning to understand why it had taken only ten years for the rot to bring the Empire down. It had never been solid. It had only been barely holding on.
“Chief, I’m stepping out for a while.”
“…Don’t use anything too extreme. No—if you can help it, restrain yourself.”
“Yes. I’ll resolve it peacefully if I can.”
If I could. If those people quietly admitted their guilt or felt enough remorse to turn themselves in, I had no intention of drawing my sword. The problem was that no such people existed.
Still—how did the chief already know what I meant to do? His instincts really were terrifyingly sharp.
I left the 1st Division office at once. No need for a carriage; I simply quickened my pace through the streets of the Imperial Capital. Finding a noble’s house is never difficult. These fools are pathologically proud of their houses and plaster their family crests everywhere in sizes large enough to read from across the street.
On top of that, I had spent more than ten years with the Imperial Knights and knew the layout of most of the capital. Locating a show-off judge’s residence was no trouble at all.
In time I arrived at Sturken’s house. Set a little apart from the heart of the capital, it was grand enough to impress. I gripped the knocker and rapped hard against the door. Before long it opened, and someone appeared—a butler, by the look of him.
“This is the residence of Sturken de Kilian, second son of the Kilian countship. I am the butler in his service. What business brings you here?”
“Caenderic, from the Inspectorate. Is Judge Sturken at home?”
“…Please wait a moment.”
He bowed politely and withdrew. It was not long before I faced him again.
“This way, if you please.”
I followed him deeper into the mansion. The interior was, of course, a blaze of luxury goods. Houses of nobles who loved to be seen were always like this. Knowing exactly what kind of money had paid for it all made my fists tighten of their own accord.
At last I met Sturken himself in the drawing room. He bowed with punctilious courtesy.
“Inspector Caenderic. A pleasure.”
“Yes. Likewise.”
“What brings a scion of Lichtenhouse to call on someone like me?”
“Why don’t we sit and talk.”
I took a seat in a suitable chair. He sat opposite me, and two teacups appeared on the table as a matter of course. I took a sip. The tea wasn’t bad.
“I understand you’ll be presiding over Marquis Geneva’s trial.”
“Yes, that is so, but…”
“As for me—I despise corruption. Those people are worms that eat the Empire from within. But do you know what I hate even more?”
“W-what might that be?”
“Fools who disgrace the Imperial House.”
Sturken swallowed hard. Of course he was nervous. That charge was among Marquis Geneva’s as well.
“If someone walks free despite such a crime… then the man who delivered that verdict must be considered guilty of the same offense. Of course, as a judge, you would understand that better than anyone. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Y-yes, of course. To free a man guilty of treason—that, too, is unmistakable treason.”
“I’m glad we understand each other so well. I can see why a judge of your reputation stands apart.”
“H-haha…”
Sturken pulled a handkerchief from his coat and wiped the sweat beading on his brow. After that I added a few more remarks. To put it simply: anyone who pulled a stunt like that would be buried by every means at my disposal. That ought to have been enough for him to take the hint.
“Then I’ll see you at the trial. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Y-yes…! I will deliver a fair verdict!”
Good. That was all I needed. A judge rendering a proper judgment according to the law. The most ordinary, obvious thing in the world.