Duval at Waterloo (Napoleon's Police Book 15)

by Michele McGrath

  “Small chance of that!”

  “When he took his last turn, the doctors told him he would not get better. Then he relented and asked us to send for you.”

  I nodded. “Well I’m here now. What do I need to do to set the business to rights again?”

  It wasn’t hard but it took time and persistence. Papa’s illness had allowed several other locksmiths to take customers away from us. Now I had to woo them back. I found myself going round the town, renewing old acquaintances, dealing with Papa’s financial affairs and generally making sure that everything worked smoothly. I promoted Georges to manage the day-to-day issues. Papa was wrong about him, I discovered. He did have a head for business, once he was free to make his own decisions without Papa constantly looking over his shoulder. I offered the position to Benôit at first but he said,

  “I’m getting old now, Alain, too old to try something new. Let the lad have his chance. I’ll continue for a while and keep an eye on things. It would be better, though, if we had more workers, another apprentice besides Michel to start with, for instance.”

  He spoke sense, so I hired a young man called Henri, a nephew of Georges, who tried very hard to please us both. After a month, I had become fully occupied. The business operated more as it used to do, although we still had a deficit to make up.

  During this time, I contacted some of my old friends. We were all changed from the boys I remembered but most of them seemed pleased to see me again and to meet us socially. I made several new acquaintances as well and Sophie took Eugénie visiting. She met people she liked and we started to have a more normal social life. Jean-Pierre started at the local school, much against his will, for he had found his freedom delightful. After a lot of grumbling, he settled down. Sophie decided that Aimée should share Laure’s lessons and this also worked well.

  In a short time, we were beginning to enjoy life again. I even found myself a fencing master. I have always loved sword play and I like to think I was good at it before my accident. Defending myself was essential in the army and there were several fine swordsmen in my division, with whom I often practised. Later on, the ability to use a sword was often necessary in the Police as well. To exercise my weakened leg, I made myself fence regularly in Paris. I regained part of my former skill and, although slower than before, the new tricks I learned enabled me to hold my own. So I was delighted to find someone to fight with living in Grenoble. He was an Italian called Carlo Rizzi, a man with a fiery temper but a genius with any sort of blade.

  “You could have been almost as great a swordsman as me,” he said after our third bout. “Life has been hard to you.” I would have beaten him, except for my leg buckling at the wrong moment. Keeping up with Carlo made me fitter, which was just as well, considering what fate had in store for me. All in all, we were enjoying our new home and the future looked secure. I should have known it was all too good to last.

  Christmas passed; a day of church, an excellent dinner and then games and stories. Sophie even persuaded Papa to join us. He did not stay long, but he ate his meal, made small talk with the adults and laughed at the children’s play. He tired easily, though, and Emile drove him home before the short winter daylight ended.

  It was in the spring that everything changed and our lives were never quite the same afterwards. One evening in March, Eugénie and I had just finished our dinner when we heard the sound of a carriage arriving at the house.

  “Whoever’s calling at this hour?” Eugénie exclaimed.

  Sophie swirled into the room, her face agog with excitement.

  “What’s happened?” I asked her.

  “ The Emperor’s here!”

  “Who?”

  “Napoleon, of course!”

  “But he can’t be. He’s on Elba.”

  “He isn’t, he’s in Grenoble. My friend, Agathe, saw him galloping into the city and sent me word.”

  I sat down hurriedly. I must have gone pale because Eugénie picked up the decanter and poured me a glass of brandy, with a worried look on her face.

  “Aren’t you pleased?” Sophie asked me shrilly. “You told us you hated those Bourbons.”

  “It will mean another war,” I replied grimly. “The foreigners won’t let the Emperor take over France again, not without a fight.”

  “They might, but that’s not what I wanted you for.”

  “Go on, Sophie. What do you want me for?”

  “Take me to see him. I’ve never seen him before and Emile’s away, just when I need him most. Please, Alain.”

  She clung onto my arm and I looked ruefully at Eugénie. I had never been able to refuse Sophie in this sort of this mood, even when we were children. “Do you want to come too?”

  Eugénie shook her head. “I’ve been presented to him at the Tuileries. I’d rather not go to stare at him in the middle of a seething crowd.”

  “Please, Alain.” Sophie used the wheedling tone which always worked with me.

  I laughed. “All right, I’ll take you, but don’t blame me afterwards if you ruin your gown and get your pocket picked into the bargain.”

  She nearly took my breath away with the strength of her hug.

  “Do you mind me leaving you alone?” I asked Eugénie.

  “Someone has to go with Sophie. She can’t go into a mêlée all by herself. Take care of her, Alain.”

  I put my purse onto the table and told Sophie to do the same. Then I made her take off her jewellery. She protested, of course, but I said, “Leave them on, if you want to lose them”, so she did as I told her. I also insisted she changed her smart new pelisse for an old one of Eugénie’s, something which she never let me forget afterwards. I changed my coat and shoes for older ones.

  “You look like a peasant!” she giggled at me.

  “It’s dark, no one will see us and if you think I’m going to ruin my good clothes, you’re wrong.”

  “Hurry, will you? We’ll miss him.”

  “Not likely. He won’t move before first light, unless they chase him out of the town.”

  We only managed to drive a little way in Sophie’s carriage. The press of people, all heading in the same direction, was too great for us to get through. The word had spread fast. Sophie’s coachman stopped the horses when he could go no further.

  “Shall I wait for you, Madame?” he asked reluctance in his voice.

  Sophie glanced at me. “No, Robert,” I answered, “we can’t be sure how long we will be away and it’s too cold for the horses to stand around. I will bring my sister home.”

  He nodded. It would be some time before the crowd thinned enough for him to turn the carriage in any case. We left him and followed the crowd down the road and through the Bonne Gate. Apparently this was the same way the Emperor had entered the city, a few hours before.

  We went first to the Préfecture. We both were certain he would be there, but we were wrong. The concierge told us that the town officials had indeed offered him their hospitality but he refused.

  “Where is he then?” I asked the man, cutting short his moans about having to stay at his post when everyone else was out enjoying themselves.

  “At the Trois Dauphins in the Rue Montage. The man who runs it, Labarre, was one of his old military guides.”

  I nodded, slipped a franc into his hand as a sweetener and then took Sophie off in the direction of the Rue Montage. It was as well we both ran wild in the town when we were children. We wouldn’t have got anywhere near the inn otherwise. We used alleyways and shortcuts and it was only by shoving and weaving our way through the crowds, that we were able to see him at last. The inn had wide windows and his figure was unmistakable, but Sophie could hardly see above the heads of the crowd. I looked around for somewhere we might stand and spotted a wall almost facing the tavern. I pulled her towards it. Fortunately, Sophie was always able to climb like a cat and she hasn’t forgotten how to do so. I pointed upwards and she understood what I meant. I boosted her up until she found a foothold. Hands reached down to h
er and the occupants of the wall shuffled to make space, so she was able to sit down next to them. I didn’t like the look of the structure but there was nowhere else and the crowd was growing with every minute. I put my foot in a hole between the stones and hoisted myself up. I clung on, putting my arm over the wall to keep my precarious position. There was no room for me on top. I hung there, twisted around and had a good enough view of the Trois Dauphins, but I hoped we would not have to stay long.

  I shall never forget that scene. Napoleon was standing at an open window, waving to the people below. The inn was guarded by soldiers, looking, for once, very happy; a sight none of us had seen for the last year. The little man stood there, in his worn green coat, the light of flickering torches illuminating him. Everyone was shouting “Vive l’ Empereur!” I must admit I gave myself over to the emotion of the moment and shouted with all the rest. Napoleon looked like a man who had been dying with thirst and was even now drinking from a stream of crystal water. He had a huge grin on his face as his eyes went back and forth across the upturned faces. He looked straight at me and suddenly his expression changed. He had recognised me, even here in this unlikely spot! I raised my arm and saluted him.

  The movement was too much for the stone my foot was resting on and it collapsed. I fell with an inadvertent yell, drawing all eyes upon me. I wasn’t hurt, but the people below me were not best pleased when I landed among them. I muttered apologies and stood with my back to the wall, beneath Sophie’s dangling feet. My foothold had gone and, if I tried to climb up again, I might bring down the rest of the structure. We were lucky only a couple of stones had fallen. When I looked towards the inn again, standing on tiptoe and peering over the heads of the crowd, Napoleon was again looking in my direction. He was talking to a young man in military uniform. Then he waved to the crowd again.

  I stood beneath Sophie, watching and hoping she might have seen enough, so we could go home. A small disturbance in the throng made me turn that way. The young man in military uniform whom I had seen in the window was coming towards me.

  “Are you Monsieur Duval?” he shouted, trying to make himself heard above the roar of the crowd.

  “Yes?”

  “You are to come with me. The Emperor’s orders.”

  “He wants to see me?”

  “Yes, at once.”

  “A moment, please.” I turned to help Sophie down. I put up my arms and she leaped into them with a grin, almost bringing us both to the ground. I steadied her and took her arm.

  “I have no instructions about the lady,” the young man protested, as if he would separate us.

  “I can hardly leave my sister alone here in this crowd,” I told him. “The Emperor will understand; he has sisters himself. Don’t worry, I will take the responsibility.”

  Between us we guided Sophie through the press of people until we came to the relative quiet of the inn corridor.

  “Tidy yourself,” I hissed to her, “but hurry. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  “How do you expect me to do that in thirty seconds with no mirror? I look a fright in this old pelisse and no jewellery. He’ll think I’m a peasant. I’ll never forgive you for this,” she hissed back. Between us we pushed in her hairpins and shook the dust out of her skirts. She looked almost presentable again, or at least I thought so. No doubt a woman thinks differently about such things.

  “Clean the smut off your nose.” I gave her my kerchief and she did so. “You’ll do,” I said when she had finished.

  “Thank you, kind brother,” she replied with an urchin’s grin.

  “Behave yourself in there.”

  We were shown into the back of a small room, which was also crowded with people. The messenger tapped on shoulders and made a passage through them for us, until we stood directly behind the great man himself.

  “Duval is here, Sire,” the messenger said.

  Napoleon turned and gestured to an officer, who was standing near, to take his place at the window. Then he looked at me. I bowed and Sophie dropped into a curtsey.

  “What are you doing here, Duval?” He took Sophie’s hand and raised her up. “And who is this pretty lady?”

  “I live here now, Sire. I’ve left Paris and the Police.” I smiled at Sophie who was looking awed and obviously savouring the moment to tell to her grandchildren. “May I have the honour to present to you my sister, Marie-Sophie-Matilde, Madame Giroux.”

  “Madame, you say? A pity. Why did you never tell me about her before?”

  “Sire, you never asked.”

  Napoleon laughed, a youthful happy sound I had not heard for years, ever since the great disaster in Russia. “Touché. You must come and visit us in the Tuileries, my dear, when we have settled there again.”

  “It would be my great pleasure, Sire.”

  “Now, Duval.” He was abrupt as usual, dismissing women from his mind as soon as he returned to business. “I have need of your services.”

  “Yes, Sire?”

  “You have come to me most opportunely. I want you to deliver a message to a man we both know well.”

  “But, Sire. Surely any man here would be delighted to be your messenger. You don’t need me. I am an outsider now.”

  “Some might say the same of me, but we will prove them wrong together, will we not?” He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “I will explain later. Come to me again at first light and be ready for a journey of some duration.”

  What could I reply to that? You don’t refuse an emperor when he asks you to do something. I had no intention of refusing anyway. I was aware of the envious glances around me and felt a little pride in being singled out from the others. Eugénie, though, was going to murder me.

  “What on earth can he want you for?” Sophie asked when we had pushed through the crowd and were on our way out of the town.

  “No idea. I’ve done errands for him before, so he supposes I will do so again.”

  “And will you?” she asked. Sophie has sense and things are not quite the same as they were.

  “I’ll have to. If I don’t and he comes to power again, he can banish me from France or worse.”

  “He wouldn’t!”

  “He would. He’s done it to more important people than I’ll ever be. Remember the Duc d’Enghien?” Sophie shuddered. Louis Antoine de Bourbon, Duc d’Enghien, a close relative of the King, had been kidnapped in Baden. He was brought across the border to Vincennes and shot on trumped up charges at Napoleon’s orders.

  “Come home with me,” I begged Sophie. “I need you to help me convince Eugénie I have to follow orders. Then I’ll take you home.”

  Sophie nodded. “I think you’ll need my help.”

  Eugénie certainly wasn’t pleased. “Why didn’t you stop him?” she asked Sophie, reproachfully.

  “The Emperor doesn’t take any notice of women when he has something on his mind,” I hurried to defend her. After all, this mess wasn’t all Sophie’s fault. The only thing she had wanted to do was to see the great man at a distance. Neither of us expected to be summoned into his presence or the consequences that followed.

  I got out the carriage and drove Sophie home, still in a state of excitement and a growing apprehension for my safety. Emile had been waiting up and greeted us with relief.

  “Where have you been?” he asked. “You’ve been out for hours. I was worried about you.”

  “Sophie will tell you all about it. I need to go home and prepare. The Emperor wants me to go on a journey for him.”

  “I’d heard he was back. What’s happening? Where are you going and why?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve to return to him at first light and I’ll find out then. I’ll come and see you before I go, because I must leave Eugénie and the children in your care while I’m away.”

  “Of course. Don’t worry about that. Go and get what sleep you can.”

  I did not expect Eugénie to be asleep when I returned and she wasn’t. My wife is a wonderful woman and the life
we had lived in Paris had made her an old campaigner. She realised that, whatever she said, I would go. So, while I was taking Sophie home, she packed for me. My saddlebags rested in the hallway, with my swordstick and pistols lying beside them. Even though she had prepared, Eugénie made one last attempt to turn me from my course.

  “Why didn’t you refuse him?” she asked, putting a glass of brandy into my hand and blowing up the fire. I sighed, wanting to go to sleep but knowing I couldn’t leave her without a proper explanation.

  “When have I ever been able to refuse that man?”

  “Not even now, when he’s no longer the Emperor? When he’s been deposed and exiled?”

  “You know him. He pops up again like a cork in a vat of water. Think, Eugénie. If, by some miracle, he does regain his power, what would happen to us? He has a long memory and he holds grudges. Nowhere in France would be safe for us any more, not even here.”

  “I suppose you’re right. He’ll win; he always does,” she agreed, reluctantly. “But what did he mean by ‘of some duration’?”

  “Days, weeks, months. It could mean anything, knowing him.”

  “Do you want us to come with you?”

  “You can’t. I don’t know where he’s sending me and I’ll almost certainly have to ride hard. Besides, with luck I can do his errand quickly and come back to you. No point in disrupting everything before we know.”

  “I’ve helped you before,” Eugénie said plaintively and I put my arm around her, holding her close.

  “I know, love, but this isn’t another puzzle for us to solve together. It’s a journey, an even more uncomfortable one than the last. We couldn’t inflict such a thing on Aimée, so soon and I’ll be quicker without you. I’d rather you and the children stay here, where you’re safe for now. I’ll send for you, if I have to stay in Paris for any length of time. I’ll ask him to release me when the right moment comes. I don’t want to live in the city again. Do you?”

  “No.” She was silent for a few moments and then asked, “Do you think he’ll regain his throne?”