Detective Mary

Chapter 50

"The owner of the circus announced grandly on the first day he arrived in Paris that his purpose in coming here was not to perform. He was going to take his circus members," Mary drew out her tones, "to steal the most valuable painting in Paris, the Mona Lisa."

As Mary's words hit the floor, the rest of the Bennett sisters all looked surprised.

"He's aiming for a big surprise!" Catherine couldn't help but exclaim.

After all, it was Leonardo da Vinci's world-famous painting, and from ancient times to the present, the Mona Lisa had probably been stolen by various thieves or gangs of thieves in various mystery novels and movies more times than passers-by on the subway lost their wallets.

In fact, in the summer of 1911, the Mona Lisa was actually stolen from the Louvre. However, the thieves did not use any clever measures, but simply hid inside the Louvre, waiting for the closing time to take the painting, pick the lock and leave.

It's not that far from 1911.

Elizabeth was the first to react.

"Directly announcing the target of your theft," she said incredulously, "isn't that asking for the police to come to your door?"

"Yes," said Mary, with a grin, "the owner announced it directly to the newspapers and magazines, and the next day countless newspapers printed it on the front page. When the police learned about it, they naturally took the boss and the circus members into custody at the first opportunity."

"And how was he supposed to steal the picture?" Jane asked curiously.

"You're not the only one curious," Mary replied, "everybody is. After all, stealing is a crime that can't be known to the bystanders, and the owner is not losing his head start by making it so public. And yet the circus owner just put out the word that he and his circus had done nothing."

Elizabeth frowned slightly, "In that case, the police are arresting people who are innocent."

Mary, "Yes. The owner's lawyer came to the door, and warned the police that they couldn't hold the entire circus without evidence, that their show was booked, and that if the tour was canceled because of this, the police department would be responsible for the circus' losses, as well as the rights of the patrons who'd bought tickets."

"So," Elizabeth picked up, "the police had no choice but to let the circus owner go again."

Mary nodded, "But the word was out, and all of Paris knew that the purpose of the circus owner's trip was to steal the painting, and countless invectives and solicitations struck towards the circus, and for a time there was a steady stream of people wanting to interview the owner, and countless members of the populace wanted to buy tickets to the show for that reason, to get a glimpse of what the circus that had put out the word that they were going to steal the painting of the Mona Lisa would look like. "

"And then what?" Elizabeth asked.

"With such a hot streak, the tour had to add extra shows in Paris, and even then it was hard to get a ticket. It was only after countless media inquiries that the owner finally spilled the beans on further news."

"What news?" Catherine curiously pursued.

"The Mona Lisa will be on public display as the grand finale at the last show of the tour."

"Then the police need to do something," Jane said with immense concern, "It's a world famous painting."

Elizabeth sniffed and burst out laughing.

Without waiting for Mary to respond, she spoke, "I guess it's Mr. Philip Luther's turn to come out next."

Mary raised a wide smile.

It was true that Elizabeth was the one who knew her best, and even if the gulf of difference in times caused her to still not fully understand her own thoughts, it was not at all surprising that Elizabeth, who understood Mary's temperament and shared Mary's respect for knowledge and books, could guess where her sister's novel was going.

"The police were unable to do anything right or left," Mary said, "and called in our famous Detective Luther, hoping he could prevent the theft of the famous painting."

"What next?!"

Catherine stared.

She, too, had read Mary's already published novel, The Serial Killer Chess Game, but like any other well-educated squire lady, Catherine found the murders a little frightening. But while she was scared, she was also a little curious about the development.

That's why Catherine had to hear Mary's new story idea today, too.

It was a good thing that the circus theft wasn't as scary as the Serial Killer chess game; instead, Catherine thought, the story was much more interesting than the murder.

"Next ......" Mary said in a long drawn out tone.

Naturally, Detective Luthor realizes that all the grandstanding, all the crime warnings, are nothing more than a stunt created to sell tickets and make a name for himself.

Mary tells this opening section in such detail, initially for the same reason that she tells the case of Edmund Campbell within the Nesselfeld estate, in order to observe the reaction of everyone in this era.

In the twenty-first century, the audience would have been able to guess the owner's true motivation for buying tickets to the circus show as early as when Mary reveals that tickets to the show were sold out as a result.

But in the Victorian era, such a vociferous, propagandistic way of wrapping an irrelevant thing in irrelevant lies was never done so directly even by the real P.T. Barnum.

In fact, according to the perspective Mary brought from over a hundred years later, she didn't think the circus owner, or Barnum himself, had done anything wrong.

Was it untrue? It was. Deceived the audience? Yes. Unethical? Yes, it is.

However, the only thing that really shapes cognitive existence in a capitalist society is the form of exchange of material money itself, who forces the audience to pay for tickets, who tells them that what they say must be true.

It's like the circus owner Mary conceives of, who is really selling not a circus act, not a payoff for the marginalized, but a grand orgy for all to participate in.

While nineteenth-century people had not heard of such a mode of entertainment, Mary understood it well.

"What's next, is Philip Luther seeing through everything and the boss's plan failing?" Elizabeth asked.

"The truth is that no matter what," Mary didn't care that Elizabeth was in a hurry to interrupt herself, "the boss's plan can't be considered a failure."

If Philip Luther had succeeded in stopping the boss, his intention had not been to steal the portrait of the Mona Lisa, and naturally Luther would have had no reason to arrest him; and if the detective had failed to dismantle the boss's treacherous plan, it would have been the most famous detective who had lost to the circus owner, and more than anything else, it would have been a legendary addition to his circus.

--Either way, the boss had succeeded when the police brought Philip Luther in and the detective got involved in the case.

"What on earth is going on," muttered Catherine, "Mary don't you sell out!"

Hearing that Catherine was so curious, Mary favored not saying anything.

This story was different from Serial Killer Chess Game, if Mary just told the ending straight away, what was there to see? So she saw that Catherine was anxious, and instead gave up the mood to continue explaining.

"Anyway, the ultimate ending must be the detective dismantling the boss's trick," she said in a generalized manner, "Don't worry about it. I haven't figured out the exact plot arrangement yet."

For example, in order to complete the grand orgy and add a spectacular ending to the show, the boss would have to have some sort of fun with a real burglary or have the "Mona Lisa" appear in some other way or form in the final performance.

And how should tough detective Philip Luther react when he learns that it's all just a show to tease the public?

And finally, there's the point that such plotting is clearly not in keeping with contemporary morals; just look at how the media abused Barnum himself back in the day.

Mary still has to find a more realistic and acceptable motive for the circus owner.

So coming up with a rough idea is really just the beginning yah. At first, when she was planning to write about the burglary, Mary thought the story would be simpler than The Serial Killer's Chess Game. However after she had specifically developed her ideas and looked them up, it didn't feel any easier than a murder mystery at all.

Mary let out a long sigh, "Looks like another change is in order."

Seeing Mary's face full of worry, Jane exported a warm word of relief, "A good article is one that is revised, don't be anxious, you have seen the result of the last serious consideration, not only did it go through the draft smoothly the first time, but people are also very much looking forward to your serialization."

This is true.

She couldn't afford to be impatient; creating was not a thing that accommodated fickle anxiety.

And Mary was optimistic; Serial Killer Chess Game wouldn't be serialized for another three months, and the second story, by Mary's math, should be between fifty and seventy thousand words.

Three months to finish the manuscript and send it to Editor-in-Chief Hall, she thought she could do it.

Mary felt better at the thought.

"I do what I can," she said easily, "but the most important thing at the moment isn't my serial, it's Jane's wedding ah!"

"Nonsense, it's just as important."

Jane's face reddened, but the happy smile on her face betrayed her, "Don't come and shame me."

"How can that be as important."

Mary was extraordinarily serious: "My creations only satisfy me, but Jane's wedding is about bringing joy to everyone."

After all, being the first lady to marry in Longbourn, Jane's wedding is naturally significant. Not to mention that Mr. Bingley is not your average Mr. Right - he's superbly perfect, and Jane has to be a match made in heaven.

And with Mr. Bingley choosing to marry at Nethersfield Hall, his friends and family are bound to come. This means that not only will Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy be able to see each other again and foster their relationship, but it also means that ......

Mary's eyes flicked to Lydia.

"Are you rested?" She asked with a smile.

Lydia: "......"

Lydia had been uncomfortable at the sight of Mary for the past few days, and was subconsciously wary at the sight of her beaming face, "What do you want?"

Mary spoke as a matter of course, "Nothing, just curious as to why you haven't replied to Mr. Wickham yet. Haven't you wanted to dance with him for a long time?"

"What, what does that have to do with you!"

"Of course it's got something to do with it," said Mary; "how am I going to get my new five hats if you don't dance with him and he doesn't confide in you?"

"......"

"Lydia you do needlework so well, it's no better than the new styles in the London bonnet stores."

"............"

This provocative words of Mary's, unsurprisingly poked Lydia, who stood up, "You're bullshitting me! I don't believe ...... believe that Mr. Wickham is a bad person, and you're just trying to make a name for yourself to discredit him like that!"

"I can't help it if you think so." Mary laughed.

Lydia was still stiff-lipped, but the hesitation in her tone had long ago revealed her true thoughts, and this time the retort seemed a little weak, not nearly as heartfelt as it had been before Mary traveled to London.

"But I think that if you danced with him," continued Mary, "it would not be long before he would say that he loved you best of all, and that he had been blinded by Miss King's wealth and property, and that true love cannot be measured by money - at least there is no money to spend, and at least you are good-looking, so there is a bargain to be taken. Not to take advantage of it."

"He won't!"

"Maybe he'll even talk you into eloping."

Several of the other Miss Bennet's gasped as Mary uttered the words.

"Mother and Father would never let you marry him anyway wouldn't they," Mary tightened her smile, "If you don't believe me, just say yes to him and try it. Five hats for the privilege of seeing a man doesn't seem to be a bad deal, does it? I rather hope I am very much mistaken myself; would you like to try it, Lydia?"

Lydia could not hear a word.

"You're full of s**t," she screamed, "I'll never trust you again!"

With that, she ran off with clenched fists as if she would have been convinced by Mary if she had stayed a second longer.

The one who was usually on the best terms with Lydia was Catherine, and when she saw Lydia running away, she tried to follow her up to comfort her with some anxiety, but she was not stopped by Mary.

"Let her think for herself."

Mary said, "I can't believe she won't use her little brain, which doesn't have much, after all the good words and all the bad."

If this couldn't make Lydia see the nature of a scumbag on her own, then Mary felt that the girl was truly hopeless!