Napoleon's Police

by Michele McGrath

  “See if you can find him a seat on one of the wagons,” I said. “We need him to be alert enough to recognise the murderer if he is here. I’m going to find that friend of Fournier’s, Rousseau, and ask for his help.”

  As it was, I did not have a chance. The horses had been changed and the carriage started again. It was surrounded by the bodyguard, made up as usual of the Chasseurs-a-Cheval de la Garde Impériale, the regiment to which Rousseau belonged. I wondered who he was and asked when I was near to one of the other riders. He pointed the man out to me but I realised I should have to ask again later. Men in the same uniform are hard to distinguish and most of them wore dark moustaches. Lefebvre and I tried to keep close to the Emperor, but we were not sufficiently well mounted. We had to be content to catch up at each stage. This was not satisfactory, so I asked permission for one of us to ride with the driver of the carriage.

  Lefebvre took the first turn, muttering, “You’ll get me killed, mon brave,” as he climbed up onto the box.

  We were all heartily glad when we halted for the night in Laon, about six o’clock in the evening. We had hardly time to settle into the place when the Emperor called for his horse as he intended to inspect the troops. I went up to him and pointed out that he was exposing himself to unnecessary danger, but he brushed me off. The captain of his guard was nearby and fortunately had enough sense surround him with tall troops before he galloped away. Fortunately he returned unscathed and I could breathe again.

  Napoleon was lodged at the Préfecture in Laon. He proceeded to hold meetings, eat and sleep in that order. I installed Nathan in a niche inside the doorway of the anteroom leading to the Préfect’s office. He would be able to see anyone coming in and out. I used a rather ornate screen to hide him, so he would not be noticed. I brought him food and told him to fetch me if he saw the man, as soon as he could do so without being seen.

  Lefebvre looked yellow in the face, when I met him. He told me the carriage had swayed so much; he thought they would be overturned on every corner. He vowed he would never ride on the coach again. I told him to rest and I settled myself to watch what was happening and who came near to the Emperor. As well as the senior staff, younger ones ran errands, fetched things for him, wrote orders, carried messages or saw to his personal comfort. The Emperor had taken us at our word and restricted the access of some of the younger officers to his presence. He worked mainly through the older officers, fair-haired young men or the other ranks. This did not eliminate all the risk, of course, but it lessened it. A few young men still came and went, attached to the ADCs and generals, but they numbered only about a dozen who matched the description given. That was enough to give us trouble and anyone could slay the Emperor from a distance, if the opportunity arose. We had to think of a way to whittle down the number of suspects and, in the meanwhile, keep Napoleon safe.

  When Lefebvre relieved me, looking considerably better than he had earlier, I went to find Nathan. He reported that he had had no success, although he scrutinised the faces of everyone who had come and gone. I sighed but I had not really expected him to succeed. The assassin would have been a fool if he had not tried to change his appearance after killing Moses David. I sent Nathan to bed down in an outhouse and told him I would call him if we needed him.

  I then went to where the horsemen of the Old Guard were camped. You could tell they were old campaigners. They were certainly better provided for than we had ever been, when I served with the army. One of the men took me to find Rousseau, who was sitting round a campfire, roasting a captured chicken and drinking wine. He looked up as we arrived.

  “This man was asking for you, Sergeant,” my guide said and then left.

  “I’m Duval, a friend of Claude Fournier’s,” I said, holding out my hand to him.

  “Ah yes, he said you might look for me. What can I do for you?”

  “A few things, but in private, if you please.”

  “Will it wait a few moments? Time for some wine and part of this chicken first? Join us?”

  “Certainly it will,” I replied. “Thank you.”

  I was given some of the chicken. A scrawny beast, but a good addition to the skimped rations I had eaten at the Préfecture. The wine was thin but better than I’d ever drunk on campaign. Once we finished, we went aside from the others to where we would not be overheard. I gave Rousseau an edited version of the case I was working on. When he discovered that an assassin was stalking the Emperor, he was eager to help me find the man, after he had finished calling down imprecations on his head, of course. I quickly found out that Rousseau had no great opinion of officers, except his own, which he said were the best of a bad bunch.

  “The Emperor should put his trust in us,” he said, “and keep these officers away. If a one of those villains harm him, we’ll roast the bastard alive.”

  “He does trust you,” I replied, “but he needs these others as well and most of them are loyal to him. As far as I know, I am seeking only one man.” I brought out Fournier’s list and gave it to Rousseau, who held it to the light of a nearby lantern. “What can you tell me about the men whose names have a cross beside them?” I asked. “I am particularly interested whether any of them can shoot.”

  Rousseau looked at it carefully, running his finger down the list.

  “If you are going to hold a shooting contest, my money would be on these three. They are all orderly officers and are especially fine shots. I’ve seen them. Their names are Lebrun, Rolland-Couteau and Morel. Lebrun’s the best of the lot. No one will challenge him any more or bet against him for that matter. Neither will anyone provoke him in case he challenges them. They say he never loses. He’s been known to shoot the spots off a playing card from across a room.”

  “Do you know anything about their backgrounds?”

  “Not much.” Rousseau shrugged. “I don’t move in their circles and they don’t honour a sergeant like me with their presence. None of them are in my company. All I know is what the scuttlebutt says.”

  “And that is?”

  “Rolland-Couteau is one of those ci-devant nobles. He returned to France after the Peace and the poor sod was with us in Russia. I’ve never heard anything bad about him, but I’ve never heard much good either. He’s arrogant and a stupid prick. He can follow orders, but God help us if he ever starts giving them. He has brothers who stayed in exile with the King and were given high commands in the army last year. They scarpered when King Louis fled but this one didn’t. He rejoined his regiment, immediately after the Emperor returned from Elba and came back to his old post in the Maison. He fought in Spain too, so he must have been with the Emperor for years. He was wounded there. He’s unlikely to change his allegiance, I’d say.”

  “Perhaps.” I must have sounded doubtful for Rousseau said,

  “The only safe thing is to be suspicious of everyone, my son, but I’d say Rolland was less likely to be your man than some of these others.”

  “What of the other two?”

  “Morel joined the Maison just before we left Paris, so no one knows much about him. He’s the nephew of a colonel in the scouts who was dismissed when the King dissolved his regiment. That’s all I know about him. He’s the Jacobin type.”

  “Oh? Why do you say that? Tell me more.”

  “He’s rough. No polish at all, not like some. I’d only be guessing if I told you any more except that the man is a fine shot. I wouldn’t know that, if a friend of mine hadn’t lost all his money betting against him.”

  “Lebrun?”

  “Ah, Lebrun.”

  “Yes?”

  “Again I don’t know much about him, except what I told you before. I doubt you’ll learn much more from asking around. Nobody talks about Lebrun.”

  “Why not?”

  “They’re afraid of him, with good reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “The man’s a bully. He’s an excellent shot and an expert swordsman as well. He’s also got a terrible temper. Most people, officers and
men, try to keep out of his way. He’s fought at least eight duels and he’s killed his man three times.”

  “Then there’ll be someone who dislikes him enough to talk.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “His background?”

  “Not sure. He was at sea, I think, or a customs officer. Don’t know why he left. They probably got rid of him. I would. What he’s doing in the army is a mystery, especially in the Maison Militaire. Thought they were more choosy.”

  “Evidently not.”

  “Watch your words if you talk to him.”

  “I shall, don’t worry.”

  Rousseau flicked the list with one finger, then handed it back to me. “There could be others who can shoot but I don’t know them. I’ve never heard of some of these people. I’ll tell you the ones I do know, though, so you can eliminate them. One or two couldn’t hit a barrel at twenty paces.”

  Rousseau was as good as his word and I was able to cross off about five of the names Fournier had selected. I was unhappy to do so, because it is easy enough to feign bad marksmanship. Yet I had little choice. There were still nine left, Rousseau’s three and six others. Time was against me.

  Chapter 7

  We set out at four in the morning for Avesnes, the general headquarters. I was up about two and I began to wonder how long I could keep up this pace. I was no longer the young boy who had rushed so eagerly into battle. The Police did not require such prolonged activity and I had become lazy. I felt out of sorts and grumpy. Lefebvre was worse because he had been drinking with some of the officers, trying unsuccessfully to find out more about them. Nathan looked frankly sick and even a bit frightened. He realised he was rushing headlong to meet armed enemies and he was wondering if he had been mad agreeing to come with us. I decided I would take him to look at our three marksmen and some of the others on Fournier’s list. If he found our man, well and good; if not, I would send him home to his mother in Paris.

  I inspected Napoleon’s carriage, before he got in, and made sure he was screened from snipers. We had even checked his food for poison last night. Napoleon laughed at our diligence but gave the necessary orders, as he had promised.

  “You won’t be able to protect me on the battlefield,” he reminded us.

  “By that time, Sire, I hope that the traitor will be long dead,” I replied, crossing my fingers for luck.

  When the Emperor halted to consult with one of his generals, Lefebvre and I stayed near to him but we were able to discuss our next steps in finding the assassin. Nathan had still not recognised any of the men who had access to the Emperor. We planned to question the three marksmen when we camped for the evening and, if we had time, some of the others as well. I hoped that we would be able to do so and the man would not be able to find a way through our precautions and forestall us. I had the nagging feeling that I was missing something obvious.

  “Are we looking at this the wrong way by concentrating on looking for marksmen? There are plenty of ways to kill a man without shooting him. Could we be making a mistake?”

  “We probably are,” Lefebvre said, bluntly. “But you were a soldier once, how would you commit a murder?”

  “I’d use a soldier’s weapon, a sword or a gun,” I answered. “A bomb is too risky. They often kill everybody except the man they’re intended for, as we both know. Poison seems unnatural to me and you’d need to bribe the cook well. Even so you’d lay yourself open to blackmail or treachery.”

  Lefebvre laughed. “Poison might improve the swill Napoleon’s cook serves. The Emperor isn’t a fussy eater, thank God, but he must have a cast iron stomach or he’d be dead already.”

  “I’d kill him with a sword, if I was prepared to take the consequences,” I ignored his comment and continued speculating. “Drawing a sword anywhere near the Emperor would guarantee you would never leave the room alive.”

  “The assassin might not care about escaping, have you thought of that? What do you think would happen to him if he was caught?”

  “Summary justice and a quiet grave, but we’ve both known fanatics who were willing to lay down their lives to murder the Emperor.” I grinned, remembering the first case I had ever worked on with Lefebvre. The Infernal Machine had been the work of fanatics too, bumbling ones, who had missed their mark but killed a lot of innocent souls instead.

  “True.” Lefebvre shuddered. He’d had a brush with one such man not so long ago, but that is yet another story. “A gun rather than a sword then?”

  “He might use a dagger. They’re easy enough to conceal but, if he wants to escape, only effective when the Emperor is alone. Fortunately, the only time I know no one is with him is when he’s sleeping. I’ll make that point to him and tell the guard to be extra vigilant not to allow anybody to approach the Emperor without searching him thoroughly. My guess is a gun and a man who is able to use it skilfully,” I told him. “Not many guns shoot straight and few men can fire them with enough accuracy to be sure of killing their victim. Yet that’s the best way to kill the Emperor and get away. No wonder the man wanted a well-made rifle if that was his plan. I’d certainly do it like that, although I’m not that good a shot, so I’d have to be close to him to try.”

  We did not have time for more because the General got out of the carriage and rode away. The cavalcade started again and continued until we reached Avesnes. The Emperor was quickly closeted with his senior staff and dismissed us. We were seeing to our own needs when the word came that the Emperor would remain at headquarters for the night and leave late the following morning. This gave us more some hours to work with and we intended to use them to full advantage.

  Before we set out to find the officers with Nathan, Lefebvre took me to one side and said,

  “I’ll take the boy with me, Alain.” I stared at him but did not argue. Lefebvre has better ways of finding things out than I do He’s able to get on with anyone and he’s never let me down. This time proved no exception. He came to me later that night with the information.

  “I’ve sent Nathan to bed. He’s not cut out for this sort of thing. He’s almost dead on his feet.”

  “Any luck?”

  “I can cross three off your list.”

  “Only three?”

  “Yes, including one of the marksmen, Morel. He says it’s not any of them.”

  “He’s sure?”

  “He had a good look at them and he said he did not recognise anyone.”

  “Pity. What about the others?”

  “Rolland was off somewhere on duty and we couldn’t find Lebrun or anyone else we are interested in.”

  “Well, at least that’s some progress.”

  “What about you?” Lefebvre asked.

  “I couldn’t be too inquisitive or I’d have roused suspicions, so most of what I’ve got is second-hand and not particularly trustworthy. I fell in with a group of messengers hanging around waiting for orders. They were bored and a small amount of brandy worked wonders on their tongues, but they didn’t have much to tell me.”

  I shrugged. “I asked about our marksmen and found out that, as you might imagine, Lebrun wasn’t popular and they kept out of his way. Rolland was different. He’s efficient and approachable on duty although a bit solitary at other times. No one claimed any close relationship with him and the consensus was that he didn’t have many friends. ‘An uncomfortable man’ someone called him.”

  “Anything else?”

  “They reacted badly to any suggestion of disloyalty among the Maison. I didn’t phrase it like that, of course, or they’d have jumped on me. Our three marksmen are supposedly loyal or they wouldn’t be here Not everyone chose to cast their lot with the Emperor when he returned from Elba and several of the old faces are missing. There were a lot of vacancies in the Maison which had to be filled quickly before this campaign, of which Morel was one, but you’ve already eliminated him.”

  “Nothing we didn’t know then?”

  “A couple of things.” I pointed to the list. “Raponde is
a poor shot. He lost a wager with one of the group a week or so back.”

  “He could have lost it deliberately.”

  “The stake was large enough to hurt. I think he can be crossed off. That brings our names down to seven.”

  “You said two things. What’s the other?”

  “I kept the best for last. The only thing of real value I found out. This man…” I stabbed at the list “…he’s an orderly officer, said something about the Emperor which didn’t go down too well. He made it out to be a joke but some of them did not believe him. The sword is his weapon but he can shoot as well, so no one challenged him, although they didn’t like his words.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Quarnet.”

  “I’ll roust Nathan out of bed early and walk him past these people if I can find them.”

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “Have a chat with Lebrun or Rolland, both of them if I am lucky and have time.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘lucky’. What happens if Lebrun finds out what you’re about and challenges you?”

  “I won’t accept his challenge. I’ll run away as fast as I can!”

  Chapter 8

  Because of the late start, we had some hours free on the morning of the fourteenth of June. Lefebvre and Nathan set off to look at the people on our list, while I went in search of either of our two marksmen. Time was getting alarmingly short; we should cross the frontier tomorrow. We’d been lucky so far and the assassin must be getting desperate by now, if his intention really was to prevent the Emperor joining the army. Perhaps our watchfulness had been sufficient, or something else prevented an attack. I hoped our luck would continue.

  I went to Lebrun’s tent and, for a wonder, I found him there, packing up for departure.

  “Good morning,” I greeted him.

  “What do you want?” he replied. Charming manners, I thought.

  “A little of your time.”