Duval and the Italian Opera Singer

Home > Other > Duval and the Italian Opera Singer > Page 11
Duval and the Italian Opera Singer Page 11

by Michele McGrath


  Eventually, the doors of the salon opened. The Emperor accompanied Carla to the door. He kissed her hand and she curtseyed to him. She was smiling. Then he summoned one of his aides.

  “Arrange for Mademoiselle Contini and these gentlemen to be driven back to Paris at once. The driver is to take them wherever they wish to go. Two guards are to accompany them at all times until I countermand the order.”

  We drove down the avenue, with the troopers riding beside the carriage. The vehicle was a closed one, so I pulled up the windows to ensure that no one could overhear what we said.

  “What happened?” I asked Carla.

  “Oh, Monsieur Alain, it was so wonderful. After all this time he remembered me and the fun we once had.” She clapped her hands in delight but I avoided Fournier’s eye. The Emperor knew how to please a woman that was evident. I wondered if he really had recalled anything at all about their few days together or if he was just being polite. I must be becoming cynical as I get older.

  “Did he give you what you wanted?” Fournier asked her. He is often blunt.

  “But yes Monsieur. Marco is to go to a fine school, paid for by the Emperor. When he grows up, if he still wants to be a soldier, the Emperor will place him into a good regiment. If Marco changes his mind, he will help him to find suitable training. I am so happy that his future is assured.”

  “What about yourself?” I asked.

  “I did not ask anything for myself. We only spent a few days together in Milan. He does not owe me a debt. I enjoyed myself and I have Marco to remember him by.”

  “Did you tell him so?”

  “I did and then he said…” Carla gulped “… he said that I had given him a wonderful son and he was delighted with me. He told me that he has always wanted children of his own. He will not allow his son’s mother to live in poverty, so I am to have a pension and a dowry when I marry. Is he not generous, Messieurs?”

  “Very generous,” I said and the others murmured agreement. I was glad he had made the gesture and made her happy. It would not cost him much, but I thought better of him for insisting on supporting her as well as the boy.

  “Are you taking me to Marco now, Monsieur Alain?”

  “Where else would I take you Carla?”

  The carriage dropped us at my apartment. The others went on to the Ministry to make their reports. I said that I would follow them as soon as I could. Carla was out of the coach and hurrying up the stairs before I could open the door for her or even shout a warning. I hurried after her and was in time to hear her squeal. She had burst through the door and almost been speared on Antoine’s bayonet. She fell back. Then Antoine was shoved aside by a small whirlwind who ran straight past him and into his mother’s arms. The next half hour was a wonderful happy confusion. Both Carla and Marco wept. Eugénie joined them and so did Aimée, who did not understand the reason why everyone was crying. Then we all drank coffee and nibbled freshly baked bread while we described what had happened. When everyone calmed down and the story was finished, I rose with some reluctance.

  “I must return to the Ministry.”

  Eugénie came out onto the landing with me after I had said my goodbyes.

  “Carla and Marco will be better staying here until other arrangements can be made or you catch the villains who kidnapped them, Alain.”

  “Now that the Emperor has met Carla and Marco, the need to hide them is past.”

  “But are the kidnappers aware that this meeting has taken place?” Eugénie’s wits are often quicker than mine. “It took place at Saint-Cloud rather than in Paris. Not somewhere the Empress and many of her friends frequent, so I believe.”

  “True. The only ones at the meeting with Marco, as you know, were Fouché, Réal, the Emperor, his mother and the two of us. None of them are likely to gossip. Madame Mère has never liked Joséphine; that is well known. The Emperor would not tell his wife and both Fouché and Réal are Napoléon’s servants. So, unless you have been gossiping…”

  I ducked the punch Eugénie threw at me but I was glad to see she was smiling.

  “There are spies everywhere, of course, but the servants are the greatest danger,” I continued. “Many of them took part in the hunt for Carla at Saint-Cloud. Although they would lose their jobs or even be sent to prison if they talk, they might, if enough money was offered to them.”

  “If they have and the whisper has reached the right ears, then the danger may be past. If not, then I think we must protect Carla and Marco until we know for certain that the secret is out or the culprits are caught.”

  “I agree they must be protected, but I will have to find somewhere else for them to go. You already have Agnès and Bernard in the house and the baby could arrive at any moment. I don’t want you to be in any danger.”

  “I won’t be. Jules and Antoine have not been withdrawn and now there are two more guards. We are well protected here. You saw for yourself how alert they are. I don’t want to be alone and you can’t be with me until all this is over. I understand that. If the baby comes at an awkward time, Agnès will look after me while Bernard goes for the midwife. Carla can take care of the children. Don’t worry, Alain. It will be all right, really. After all, I’ve had a baby before and everybody will help me.”

  I nodded. She was right. She was alone when her birth pangs started with Aimée. It was only by the grace of God that her mother came calling that afternoon, because Eugénie couldn’t rise from the bed to call for help. No wonder she didn’t want to be left without an adult to assist her.

  “Send a message to the Ministry, if you need me, and I will come at once.”

  “Hurry up and finish the case.” She kissed me and I hurried down the stairs.

  Chapter 13

  I arrived at the Ministry to find neither Lefebvre nor Fournier in our room. Laurent, unfortunately, was there. He greeted me with the usual sour note in his voice,

  “Oh, the golden boy returns, covered in glory as usual.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Your chums were here before you, looking satisfied with themselves. Another triumph about to be announced, I believe?” He was watching me like a hawk and I had no intention of enlightening him. I sincerely hoped the others had not been fool enough to tell him too much. After all, they both knew him of old.

  “The case isn’t over yet,” I stopped just short of snapping at him because he is my superior and he would love to make trouble for me. “I must report upstairs.”

  I left before he could stop me. Réal wasn’t in his office but I heard voices coming from next door. One of them was definitely Lefebvre’s. If he was still there, then probably I should be too. I tapped on the panel and Réal opened the door himself.

  “Come in, Duval, we were waiting for you.”

  Fouché was sitting behind his desk in a characteristic pose. His fingers were steepled and resting on his lip, for all the world like a vulture about to pounce on its prey. He nodded when he saw me and I gave him a small bow. Then he said,

  “You left the boy and his mother safe?”

  “Four guards are with them.”

  “So that part of the investigation is over. The Emperor has met both of them and their identity is confirmed?”

  “I believe so, Monseigneur. The Emperor made certain promises to Carla about their future.”

  “Then it will be extremely interesting to see what happens next, now the Emperor believes he can father a child,” Fouché mused. “If the fault is not with him, then it must be with the Empress, in spite of her two children. She was much younger when they were born, of course, and she may have passed her childbearing years, as women do. Maybe the Emperor will look for a new wife who is capable of bearing him heirs. A foreign princess from a fecund family?”

  “Austria, Russia or one of the German princely families perhaps?” Réal murmured.

  “Precisely. Tallyrand will certainly be fascinated by the prospect, but that is for the future. A message has come from the Emperor o
rdering me to ensure the capture of the people who threatened the boy. He is extremely angry that they tried to prevent him meeting his son. Who exactly are these conspirators?”

  “The ones we know about are Jacques Evrard, his brother and a groom from Malmaison called Renardin. The person or persons who planned and paid for the abduction are unknown at present.”

  “And these people are?” he asked.

  “The name Lavalette has appeared several times.”

  “The Empress’s niece?” Fouché’s eyebrows shot up. “You are sure?”

  “No. Both the countess and her husband might be involved or completely innocent. There is no proof of their complicity.”

  Fouché sat back in his chair. “If they are guilty, almost certainly they will not have acted without the Empress’s knowledge or approval. Madame de Lavalette, as well as being her niece, is also one of her closest confidantes.”

  His voice trailed away and, for a second his eyelids hooded over. Then he said in a stronger tone with a gleam in his eye,

  “Don’t look so horrified, Duval. The Empress must be suspected because she has the most to gain if the Emperor remains ignorant of the fact that he has a son. However, she might be entirely innocent and her supporters could have acted alone. She can be a devious woman. She wouldn’t have survived the Revolution if she was not, but she isn’t cruel. I doubt she would approve of anyone keeping a young child away from his mother, although I may be wrong. I’m not ordering you to interview her or to accuse her of having the boy abducted. I’m not even telling you to interview her niece. The Emperor must give his permission for that to happen. In this case, unlike the affair of the missing crown, when you interviewed his sisters, I am not certain that he would agree. He has enough trouble with his family as it is without provoking any more. If you do find any evidence against the Lavalettes or anyone else in the Empress’s circle, bring it to me first. I will decide what to do.”

  “What about the others, Evrard and Renardin?” I asked.

  “Go after them, but keep me informed. In view of the Emperor’s orders we must take this search seriously. If you need any help, Réal will organise it for you.” He looked at his deputy and Réal nodded.

  “Of course, Monseigneur.”

  We trooped out and sat in Réal’s office to discuss our next steps. If Réal controlled the resources we needed, we had to tell him exactly what we had found out. Fortunately, he is a far easier man to get on with than the Patron and he seemed keen to catch the culprits. He started the discussion by suggesting that we split up and pursue the two individuals separately.

  “Would you stay together if your plotting had become known and people were hunting for you?” he asked. “It would be hard to hide the girl’s reappearance since the whole staff at Saint-Cloud had been searching for her and saw her carried inside. The conspirators must have heard the story by now and they will be seeking their own safety.”

  “You have made a good point,” I conceded. “Evrard is part of the canaille. If he’s hidden himself anywhere in Paris, Lefebvre’s the most likely one of us to find him.”

  I looked at Lefebvre who nodded. “I’ll spread the word. If he’s here someone should have seen him and will tell me, as long as the price is right.” He glanced at Réal who said,

  “Bring me a chit and I’ll reimburse you.”

  I had a sudden thought. “Go and see that girl Manon, Jean. Take her to Rougier and ask him to alter Charles Evrard’s picture to look like his brother. She knows both of them and can point out the differences.”

  Fournier nodded. “That’s a good notion.”

  “Margot won’t like it, mon brave, especially if this Manon is pretty,” Lefebvre protested, although he was grinning.

  “Margot will just have to trust you, for once.”

  “If you were a woman, would you trust me in a place like that?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Personally I’d rather trust a snowball in hell,” Fournier murmured.

  “That’s good enough for me. I’ll start with this girl. Shall I give her your love?” He stood up and went to the door.

  “Get it done.” I grinned and waved him away. I was glad he was the one to go, though, not me. Manon was lovely and it tried my fortitude to keep my hands off her and some of her colleagues. Better not to venture into temptation too often.

  “What about you two?” Réal asked. “Where are you going to start?”

  “Malmaison. Renardin’s trail starts there,” I replied. “The head coachman, Jamet, was helpful before, but we did not question him about Renardin in detail. We were more interested in retrieving Carla and Marco at the time, rather than in finding the man.”

  “If you are going to Malmaison, remember what the Patron said. Stick to questioning the servants. Leave the Lavalettes and the Empress alone. If you uncover something interesting, come and tell me about it first before you take further action.”

  “But what if the Lavalettes ask us what we are doing?”

  “Refer them to the Patron. Perhaps he may even answer them.” Réal smiled. “Or perhaps he will not. Is there anything you want from me?”

  “A coach of some sort, not a fancy one, with a driver who can hold his tongue. Money for bribes. Is that all?” I asked Fournier.

  “Those are the most important things.”

  Réal unlocked a drawer of his desk and placed a leather bag that clinked onto the table.

  “Take it. If you need more, send to me. I will have a carriage for you with Georges to drive.”

  I smiled. He could not have picked a better man. Georges does not talk to anybody. If someone asks him a question, he simply grunts. No one knows what he means. He acts like a half-wit, but I have always thought he is clever underneath. It is merely his way of keeping out of trouble in this precarious world. He is called ‘Silence’ at the Ministry. No fear of him gossiping in the wrong place.

  “We’ll start tomorrow at first light,” I said. “Too late now. Everybody will be busy with the evening meal and entertainment, such as it is. Would you ask Georges to call for us at my home to save time?”

  “D’accord. Bonne chance.”

  That night I slept at my own apartment for a change although not in my own bed. The place was still full of people and the floor was hard. The sooner I solved this case, the sooner I would be rid of them all. I did not need a better incentive to find the solution.

  Next morning Fournier and I drove down the avenue at Malmaison. When we arrived, I told Georges to look after the horses and have the carriage ready for us in a couple of hours. We did not know how many people we would have to talk to and I wanted to be able to get away quickly if there was a need. He grunted a reply but I was sure he would do as I said. He is usually reliable.

  I sent Fournier to find the major-domo who would know which of the house servants knew Renardin best. There would be few of them, I suspected, because there is a gulf between servants who work inside and those who work outside. It is not unknown, however, for boundaries to be breeched if the cause is good enough. While he was doing that, I went in search of Jamet who was relatively easy to find. He was in his small office, writing in one of his ledgers. He looked up when he saw me.

  “I didn’t expect you back. Did you find what you were seeking?” he asked.

  “We did, but there are a few more questions I need to ask you.”

  “Go ahead.” Jamet did not look particularly pleased at being interrupted, but he did not seem unduly apprehensive. My first impression of him was reinforced; I did not believe he had signed the letter about the carriage. But I decided to take it away with me this time and give it to Manet. Then I would know for certain. Jamet put his pen down and sat back, looking at me resignedly.

  “Has Renardin come back?”

  “I haven’t seen him since you were here last. Another agent came and searched his belongings a day or so after you left.”

  I nodded. “My friend, Fournier. He’s with me today. Has anyone e
lse noticed Renardin here?”

  “You’d have to ask them, but no one has mentioned it to me.”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I need to speak to him, urgently about some information that may be valuable. Is there anything that could lead me to him? This is an important case. The Minister has made it a priority.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Fouché?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Believe me, he’s not a man to cross. You don’t forget an encounter with him very quickly.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know but it’s not very much, I’m afraid.”

  I pulled out my notebook.

  “What is his full name?”

  “Léon Renardin.”

  “How old is he?”

  “About thirty.”

  “Where is he from?”

  “Paris, not sure which part.”

  “When did he come to Malmaison?”

  “Shortly after the Empress bought the house about 1800 or 1801. He was certainly here before I came.”

  I glanced up. “Yet you are senior to him?”

  Jamet nodded. “I could do things he couldn’t. He’s excellent with the horses and he can drive them well, but he can’t organise people or activities in a place this size. A good enough person for a small house, but not this one. It’s become quite a bit bigger since the Emperor was elected. Renardin couldn’t cope, so that’s why I was brought in.”

  “And how did Renardin react to that?”

  “He wasn’t pleased at first but we worked well together, when he got over his chagrin.”

  “Would you describe him as a friend?”

 

‹ Prev