The Count Urfelt frowned, and his expression turned serious as he said:
"Such things may happen once or twice, and I can help cover it up for you, but if it continues, I might even be investigated."
Federer was the tax officer who was strangled to death in a small town east of Vienna last month.
Holz showed a flattering smile:
"Everyone knows that those secret police wouldnât dare investigate you. Alright, I promise to find other ways to show those guys at the Tax Bureau whoâs boss."
Count Urfelt was the former president of the Vienna Advisory Council for Political and Economic Affairs. Although he had already stepped down, a third of the councilâs upper echelons consisted of his people.
He was also Federerâs "old friend" and partner.
As the two were speaking, an elderly man with a short stature and drooping eyelids walked into the hall, surrounded by several tax farmers. The room immediately quieted down, and everyone bent forward in greeting, "Baron, Your Excellency."
"Youâve arrived."
Indeed, although this gathering was held at Count Urfeltâs residence, the central figure was Baron Arnshtein, the former president of the Vienna Tax Farmersâ Association.
Arnshtein sat down at the long table on the east side of the hall, raised his hand to signal the crowd, said a few pleasantries, and then quickly got to the point:
"The main purpose of gathering everyone here today is to discuss our future."
He looked around the tax farmers present: "I know some of you may have been a bit anxious lately and resorted to some special means, even to the point where someone died.
"The news Iâve gotten from Schonbrunn Palace is that the young royal secretary..."
The middle-aged man beside him quietly reminded: "Itâs Metternich."
"Right, Metternich. Heâs a tough one. He suggested to the Emperor to deploy thousands of secret police to uniformly arrest those involved in attacking tax officers."
Holz snorted dismissively, "Hmph, whoâs afraid of him?"
Baron Arnshtein glanced at him, his voice heavy: "You all should have noticed that Bernhardt didnât come today. In fact, he is already at the Hofburg."
The Hofburg Palace houses Austriaâs largest prison, holding high-profile court offenders.
Bernhardt was a relatively small-time tax farmer. Others had assumed he hadnât been invited, yet they hadnât expected he had actually been arrested.
A murmur filled the hall, "What did Mr. Bernhardt do?"
"It seems it might be related to the Favoriten incident."
"We need to find a way to get him out!"
"Agreed, we are all in this together now..."
Favoriten is a remote suburban area of Vienna. Last month, three tax officers were severely injured there.
Baron Arnshtein raised his hand to signal for silence: "Our goal is to get the Emperor to change his decision, but your current methods, while they might cause tax officers some trouble, are unlikely to turn the situation around entirely.
"In fact, they might give Metternich the excuse to strike against us."
Immediately, someone exclaimed: "Are we just to admit defeat like this?"
"This is our familyâs legacy of hundreds of years; I will never give it up!"
"You know, I have to pay my investors interest, and I have to secure tax farming rights to do so..."
Baron Arnshtein knitted his brows: "I am certainly not asking you to give up, but we must use the correct methods."
He pointed to the middle-aged man sitting on his left: "This is my best friend, Mr. Alexander Barillon. He has brought forward some excellent suggestions, and Iâd like you all to listen closely."
Barillon smiled as he rose, nodded to everyone, and said in accented German: "Iâve been collaborating with Baron Arnshtein for more than a decade now, and indeed, the current situation is somewhat troubling.
"I believe we should leverage our strengths, which obviously arenât in fighting, but in..."
He made a money-counting gesture: "Funds. What we need to do now is quickly sell off our Austrian bonds and reclaim our investments from the Vienna Bank.
"The Empire is already financially strained. It wonât be long before the Emperor will yearn for our tax funds again."
The tax farmers shook their heads, "But bond interest is my only income."
"The Emperor can last at least half a year, what do we do during that time?"
"Yes, this could bankrupt us as well."
One man even looked at Barillon suspiciously: "If I am not mistaken, are you not a Gallian?"
Barillon nodded frankly, "Indeed, I live in Reims, but most of my business is in Vienna and Prague. You can absolutely trust me.
"Alright, let me address your concerns.
"First and foremost, thereâs no way the Imperial finances can hold out for six months. In reality, I estimate that in at most two months, His Majesty the Emperor will have to make a compromise."
"How is that possible?"
Barillon smiled: "Maybe you all havenât heard the news, but the Imperial army suffered a defeat in Switzerland.
"His Majesty the Emperor will soon require substantial military funding to strengthen the forces heading to Basel."
The room erupted in gasps, "Basel people are that formidable?"
"Are you sure this news is credible?"
Barillon nodded: "Within a few days, news of the defeat will have spread."
The engagement in Alo where the Austrians were defeated by the Germans happened three days ago. Vienna had long since received the military report, but under the orders of Franz II, the news was sealed across Austria.
Holz suddenly furrowed his brow: "What if the Emperor chooses not to get involved in Switzerlandâs affairs?"
Barillon was evidently well-prepared: "Thatâs why we need to ensure heâs left with no retreat.
"Many of you know influential figures who can sway Schonbrunn Palace. Encourage them to advise the Emperor to be steadfast.
"Additionally, we must utilize some media channels to shape opinion..."
After he finished, all the tax farmers were nodding in agreement.
Barillon continued: "As for your income after reclaiming your funds, I recommend purchasing some Italian or Southern Germany railway bonds. While the interest isnât as high as Austrian bonds, the difference isnât too significant.
"Most importantly, these bonds are in high demand. When funds are needed, finding a buyer will be easy. If you prefer more stability, then buy French railway bonds, which you can even liquidate directly at the Marseille Stock Exchange.
"Of course, if youâre wary of complications, you can warehouse some grain. Styria has faced a drought, significantly reducing the wheat harvest, and grain prices will soon begin to soar."
A corpulent tax farmer waved his hand dismissively: "Only Styria has reduced production, it wonât have a major effect on grain prices."
Barillon smiled at him: "No one really knows how much grain the market is short of. As long as everyone believes in a grain shortage, prices are certain to skyrocket. And Styria just gives us a âstory to tellâ..."
The next morning, Miss Gloria asked the maid to excuse her from her piano lesson and went straight to Lucasâs residence.
As the door opened, the girl quickly whispered: "Darling, last night I eavesdropped on my fatherâs gathering, and someone mentioned the Imperial army suffered a disastrous defeat in Switzerland."