Réal would support me if only because he detests Laurent too. That has been obvious for ages. I really thought Laurent would have a seizure. It was an interesting sight and one I observed with a certain amount of satisfaction. Laurent has always tried to make my life difficult and sometimes he has managed to force me into mistakes, for which I was later blamed. I wondered whether I would be held responsible if he dropped down dead at my feet. It was a blame I would shoulder willingly.
I never found out. Eventually the red flowed out of his cheeks and he unclenched his fists. He obviously wanted to hit me, but I have something of a reputation in the Ministry, a legacy from my army days, and he is no fighter. A dagger in the back, if he could get away with it, is more his style. Laurent slammed past me, causing me to stagger and then he turned in the doorway.
“I’ll check. You haven’t heard the last of this.”
I shrugged but the incident annoyed me. Now was not the best time for me to see Réal, I decided. If Laurent was true to his word, I would find him there before me. One of these days, Laurent would push me too far and I would hit him. When that happened, I did not want there to be any witnesses, especially my superiors. So I sat down at my desk, pulled a paper towards me and listed all the tasks we had done since receiving our orders. It took me a while to get my thoughts in order and start to make sense. I spoiled several sheets before I found the right words to express what I wanted to say. My first efforts went into the fire in case Laurent came spying. My report had just been sealed and sent by one of the runners, when the door opened. I looked up, hoping it wasn’t Laurent because my temper was still not under control.
Lefebvre walked in with a grin on his face. He had a bag in either hand and dumped them on the desk in front of me.
Chapter 17
“What’s in them?”
“Bits and pieces. A couple of letters, money…” He started to undo one of the straps.
“Not here. I’ve just had a difference of opinion with Laurent and he’d love to interfere with this.”
Lefebvre did up the strap up again and passed a bag to me. It was heavy.
“The Rose?”
I nodded.
Alone in our alcove and with the landlord discreetly at the end of the room out of earshot, we opened the two sacks. One had a few rouleaux of coins, a small one of gold, the rest silver. This bag had been left lying on the floor in the old woman’s house. The other had been hidden in a recess in one of the walls and was crammed with paper. Jacques Evrard had been a busy man. We sorted through these items between us. It seemed that he had kept letters, bills of sale and receipts from several activities. Most of them were trivial.
“Why keep some of these?” I said.
Lefebvre shrugged. “Who knows? Blackmail? I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Maybe. I grant you that some of these papers could be used in this way. This one to someone called Bortel from Clichy for instance. I wonder what he was up to for Evrard to hold onto his letter. It proves nothing.”
“To us maybe, but it may be of importance to him. Shall we find out?”
“Later, perhaps. It does not bear on this case,” I said knowing that I would burn this letter along with all the rest of the dross. “These, however, may do so.”
There was a note introducing a man called Didier to Mercier’s, the carriage makers. It instructed Mercier’s to carry out the work specified in the accompanying letter, the one I had seen at their premises. It was also signed by Jamet, who would no doubt be very annoyed to see how his name had been used. He would, I expected, deny having written it as well as the other one, now being examined by Manet.
“Why did he keep this, I wonder? It incriminates him.”
“It also incriminates Didier, our late friend Charles Evrard. This isn’t the first time brothers have been at odds with each other. Jacques could use this later against Charles if he became difficult or refused to do something. You’ll agree though that this is the real find.” I picked up the letter I had placed to one side and handed it to him.
“From Renardin?”
It was no more than a note giving the address in the Rue d’Amiens where Carla and her son had been living. Yet it had carried both Renardin’s name and Evrard’s.
“Careless of him, to leave this unburnt.”
“Also insurance in case of need but useful to us.”
“I doubt an examining judge would make much of it.”
“Examining judges obey their orders and everyone is aware that is what they do. It’s enough for Renardin to believe that it would get him convicted, so Evrard has a hold over him as well as his brother.”
“Let’s go and confront him then. No point in waiting further.”
We had Renardin brought up from the cell to a room in the prison used for the interrogation of prisoners. It was dirty and untidy but neither dank nor dark. Renardin’s eyes blinked furiously when he was brought out into the light. Lefebvre, who has a nasty sense of humour, had borrowed a few artefacts from the governor, and had displayed them on one of the tables against the wall. Renardin looked at them as soon as his eyes were able to function in the well lit room.
Personally, I have never used a whip or a cane or any other of these disgusting objects; I cannot vouch for Lefebvre, of course, but I doubt he has either. We count on the fact that the mere sight of such things is apt to loosen tongues sufficiently for our purposes. I motioned to the chair on the other side of the table where we were sitting. The guards took Renardin there and he collapsed as soon as they let go of his arms. He seemed to be a far different man than the one who had attacked me.
“Renardin, the evidence against you is mounting. Your associates Charles and Jacques Evrard are both dead, but we have uncovered information that links you to them. It also proves you knew the address where Carla Contini and her son were staying.”
I pushed the letter over to him, holding a lantern so he could read the words clearly. Renardin glanced at it and then pursed his lips but said nothing.
“We are about to take you before an examining judge who will make sure that you confess. In the unlikely event that you are able prove yourself innocent, there is also the charge of assaulting two police officers. We are both ready to proceed against you. Judges are rarely forgiving of such crimes. Did you like your stay here? Let me tell you will in gaol for years, even if you manage to leave prison alive.” He tried to hide it but a small shudder passed down his frame. “If you tell me the names of the people who paid you to kidnap the boy, I think we’ll simply forget your part in this evil affair.”
I nodded to Lefebvre who got up and went over to the table against the wall and picked up one of the canes. Following our usual procedure, he came back over to us and, without warning, slammed it down on the chair within inches of Renardin’s hand. He jumped and so did I, even though I was expecting it. Lefebvre can look extremely evil when he chooses. At this moment he seemed to be gloating over the punishment he was about to inflict and Renardin stared at him with dread.
“Give us the information freely or I’ll enjoy watching my colleague beat it out of you. Choose now!”
I sat back in my chair noting that Lefebvre was tapping the cane suggestively into the palm of his hand and Renardin could not take his eyes off the weapon.
“I can guarantee that any beating you received from your father would be a love-tap to the ones we will give you. Your life has no value in a place like this. Talk to us and save yourself pain.”
“I am afraid to talk, Monsieur. They will kill me if I do.”
“Who are they?”
“The orders to take the boy came from the very top, a person others would do anything to protect. Killing me would be easy for them.”
“The Comte de Lavalette?”
“No, he knew nothing about it. We used his name because he usually attended to the running of the château of Malmaison.”
“The countess then?”
“She had been told, but she was not the on
e who gave the orders.”
“Who else?”
“I can’t say.”
“Then you must be beaten until you do. Lefebvre!”
Lefebvre swung the cane up into the air and took aim at Renardin’s face. The blow never fell because Renardin screamed,
“My lady herself.”
Lefebvre and I glanced at each other.
“The Empress? Joséphine?”
The man nodded, his head buried in his chest.
“Let me understand you. The Empress told you to kidnap Carla and her son?”
He raised his eyes. “Kidnap, yes that’s all. She would not have them killed, which would have been much easier and safer for all of us. She simply wanted them to disappear out of France before the Emperor became aware of their existence. She is a tender-hearted woman.”
“Did you say that to her?”
“Of course not. Whatever she has ordered me to do, I have never said ‘no’ to her. How could I tell her that she was wrong?”
“How did she find out about the boy? Who talked?”
“Someone, I won’t name her, who was in the waiting room in the Ministry of Police when this Carla became hysterical and shouted out her troubles to the world. She’d known my lady during the Revolution and liked her. Probably she was also hoping to be rewarded for bringing the story to her.”
I went suddenly cold.
“Will you let me go now?” Renardin asked.
“If I do so, we’ll be fishing your body out of the river within days,” I told him. “The Empress may not favour murder but you’re right, those around her will be far less squeamish. I must think what is best to be done for you.”
“Why should you even bother? You’ve got what you want and I’m of no further use to you.”
“I made a promise to your girlfriend, Christiane, that I would do you no harm. If I possibly can, I will get you out of this.”
“He’ll have to stay here for a while though, Alain,” Lefebvre said, “until we can act on this. If we move him, anyone could be watching.”
“You will have to go back to your cell, while we arrange to get you away for a few hours at most. My colleague is correct to do anything else would arouse suspicions.”
The gaoler came and took him. Lefebvre and I went out into the street and caught a hackney to the Ministry. We did not speak until we were safely inside.
“What next?” Lefebvre asked.
“The Patron’s. We can’t do any more until we have spoken to him.”
“He’s not here,” Réal said when we arrived in his office. “He is dining with Tallyrand this evening.”
“Is he? We must speak to him on a matter of urgency.”
“Speak to me first, then.”
“With respect, I know that you have the ear of the Minister in most things but we can’t share what have learned tonight without his permission.”
Réal’s eyebrows rose. “It’s that important?”
I nodded. “And urgent.”
Réal rang the bell on his desk. When the messenger appeared he said,
“The carriage if you please and my cloak.”
“I’ll come with you myself,” he told us. “Then you won’t be turned away at the door by mistake. If the Duc does not wish to admit me to your meeting, I will wait for you outside.”
“Thank you.”
As it transpired, Fouché admitted both Réal and Monsieur de Tallyrand, the Prince de Bénévent, to our discussion. We sat at a polished dining table from which the covers had just been drawn, in front of a roaring fire that banished the damp coldness of the day. Fouché was obviously in a mellow mood, for he allowed Tallyrand to pour everyone a glass of the very fine brandy which had ended their meal. It proved to be a far better wine than the bottle I had bought in anticipation of toasting the birth of my child. Would that I could afford such luxury!
“Tell me,” Fouché said.
“As you know, Monseigneur, you gave us the task of discovering who had devised and paid for the kidnapping of Carla Contini and the Emperor’s son.”
Fouché cocked an eye at Tallyrand, who nodded.
“Two of the three men who carried out the attack are now dead. In the circumstances, the other one should disappear too.”
“Permanently you mean?” Fouché has done his share of killing in the past and I think it unlikely that Tallyrand’s hands are entirely clean.
“Not in this instance, Monseigneur. It may be more preferable for this man to live in case of future need. He is the one who can identify those who planned the abduction and paid for it.”
“Future need, you say? You intrigue me. Who did plan this abduction?”
“The person who would have most to lose if the Emperor found out that he was capable of siring a son.” Both men looked startled and Tallyrand drew a sharp breath.
“I did not think she had it in her,” he whispered.
“Even women will take action if their existence or position is threatened.” Fouché turned to me. “Let us be clear on this, Duval. Are you telling us that the Empress was the person behind the plot?”
“I am. The witness who is still alive, although frightened for his wellbeing, positively identifies her. He has known her for years and worked for her when she was simply Madame Bonaparte.”
“A long time then. How did you persuade him to betray her?”
“Surprisingly easily, Monseigneur. To Lefebvre must go the credit in fact but I am sure you would not want to hear the details.”
Fouché nodded. “I can imagine. What about the Lavalettes? You mentioned them to me before.”
“The count is not involved. The countess knew of the plot but played no active part in it, so our witness says but she did not betray it to the Emperor.”
“She is in the Empress’s confidence and loyal to her.” Tallyrand smiled. “It is refreshing to see such unshakable devotion within a family.”
So he has tried to bribe her before for information and she refused, I thought. Fouché also must have failed. A remarkable woman to resist two of the most important men in the Empire. I could not help admiring the lady.
“Tell me, Duval, does this accusation rest solely on the word of your witness or is there any other evidence?”
“There are letters linking two of the conspirators to the address where Carla and her son were kidnapped. Carla’s friend, Sofia Leone, can describe how the abduction was accomplished. A carriage was used and repainted twice in two days, once obliterating the imperial arms on the panels, once replacing them. I can show you letters that authorise such a bizarre happening. We found money that our witness says was given to the group to carry out the kidnapping. Fournier, Lefebvre and myself questioned various people who played some small part in the enterprise, but only the one man can swear to the person who gave him the orders.”
“It is not enough. The case is thin. Any judge would laugh at such evidence.”
“Only if it came to court, Monseigneur, and that cannot be allowed in the circumstances, can it?”
Fouché and Tallyrand looked at each other and then Fouché replied,
“Of course not. The Emperor would never allow his wife to be charged with such a crime. He would look a fool and the people of France might well turn against her if her guilt were proved.”
“Or even if it was not,” Tallyrand said. “If a case was brought against her and was dismissed, it would still undermine the status of the whole Imperial Family. Who would trust a mother who could stoop to kidnapping of a child?” He steepled his fingers. “What an interesting possibility.”
“Who knows of this affair, Duval?” Fouché asked.
“You forbade us to question the Lavalettes and the Empress, Monseigneur and we have followed your orders. The Empress and Madame de Lavalette, of course, also the witness and the people in this room. Others are aware of part of the evidence but were not present when the Empress was named, Fournier for example. A few witnesses know a very small part, which would be easily fo
rgotten. They are unlikely to admit to their knowledge, such as it is, for fear of the Police.”
Fouché smiled. “As they should.”
Tallyrand rose. “Let us leave your agents here, Duc. Please come with me for a moment.”
They went out of the room together but they were not gone very long. We stood up when they came back and were not invited to sit again while Fouché gave his orders.
“This case is now closed. The investigation is to cease immediately and you will make everything tidy. Réal, arrange for the main witness to be sent away from Paris to a part of the Empire where he can live in obscurity yet remain under watchful eyes. The Low Countries perhaps? Westphalia? Some barbaric place like that. Once he is settled, tell me his whereabouts.”
“Of course, Monseigneur.” Réal bowed.
“Duval, Lefebvre, write your reports of the case and bring me the evidence you have collected with all the details. Two copies if you please, one for my private files, one for the Prince de Bénévent. Then forget all you have found out and speak of it to nobody, not even Fournier.” I grimaced and Fouché frowned at me. “I know he is your friend and generally trustworthy, but in this instance the fewer people who have the full story the better. Should I wish to proceed with it further or the Emperor calls for more information, then I will inform you.”
“Yes, Monseigneur.” Lefebvre and I said together.
We were turning to go when I had a sudden thought and turned back.
“Duval?”
“Signorina Contini and her son. They are at present staying in my home with guards on the door at the Emperor’s orders. All the conspirators are now known and most of them are dead or are about to be removed from Paris. Would it be possible to find other quarters for them and let Carla be given her freedom back again?”
“A good point. The need for security is passed. The Emperor will no doubt arrange for them to be accommodated elsewhere. Until he has made his decision I think it important that the soldiers continue to guard them but the surveillance can become more discreet. After all, a powerful person can conceivably hire more than one group of individuals to accomplish their objectives, can they not?”
Duval and the Italian Opera Singer (Napoleon's Police Book 6) Page 15
