Duval and the Empress's Crown

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Duval and the Empress's Crown Page 7

by Michele McGrath


  “It was in the workshop at the time of your visit. Did you by any chance see it?”

  “Me? No. Was it there? If I’d seen it, I’d have wrenched the jewels out with my fingernails and spat upon them!”

  What can you say to that? I kept on questioning her for a while but she stuck to her story that she had never noticed the crown, nor had anyone mentioned it to her. Her eyes began to glaze, with the look of a person who was becoming bored. It was when she started stroking her breasts and looking at me that I took fright. I left her as soon as possible, vowing never to visit her again if I could avoid it. I was thankful to escape relatively unmolested.

  7

  8 Frimaire, Year XIII

  (Thursday, November 29, 1804)

  I was leaving Pauline’s hôtel when I encountered a man in the hallway, who was just entering the building. He swaggered through the door as if he owned the place. He was tall, in his thirties and wearing a black frogged coat. My mind immediately leaped to the description Margueritte’s apprentice gave us of the equerry who had retrieved Élisa’s scarf. This might be the same person so I decided to find out and save Fournier a task.

  He frowned when he saw me and moved to stop me from going any further. I got the immediate impression that he wanted to intimidate me. He was several centimetres taller than I am and he drew himself up to his full height before he spoke to me. Perhaps he wondered whether he should be concerned because I had been calling on his mistress. Little did he know that he had no need to be jealous of me. I pitied the poor fellow; he was welcome to her. So I stood and waited, trying not to remember my first sergeant’s training. I had been taught to disarm and kill men who made my present opponent look like a dwarf. I hoped this man would not be stupid enough to try anything. I did not want any trouble; I had more than sufficient already.

  “Monsieur, do I know you?” A civil question but his tone was an insult.

  “No. Let me introduce myself to you. I am Alain Duval, agent of Police.” I bowed slightly, but never took my eyes off his hands.

  “And why is one of Fouché’s lackeys visiting the house of the Emperor’s sister?”

  “I am here at the Emperor’s orders and on his business. Are you Monsieur Dupré? If so I would like a few words with you as well.” I showed him the Emperor’s authorisation and I could feel him tense. An involuntary reaction, which I would have missed it if I had not been watching him so closely.

  “I’m Dupré. What do you want with me?”

  “Is there anywhere more private for us to talk rather than in this corridor?” I asked. He opened the door into one of the nearby salons which was quite empty at this time of day. I could imagine it thronged with the notables of Paris in the evening. We sat down and I began to question him, thankfully out of earshot of his mistress. I decided to tell him a part of the truth and so I said that an item of valuable jewellery had gone missing. I did not tell him which one.

  “How shocking!” he exclaimed. “These workmen amaze me with their audacity. It was missed immediately after our visit you say?”

  “Indeed so. It would be most helpful if you could tell me everything you witnessed from the time you entered the workshop until the time you left.”

  He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes as if he was picturing the scene in his mind.

  “Princess Borghese wanted her earrings shortened. It was urgent as you can imagine, since she has to wear them at the coronation in two days.”

  “Why didn’t she just send a message to the jeweller?”

  “She didn’t trust anyone but herself to get the length exactly right and time was too short for yet another mistake. Her sisters were with us when she decided she must go to Margueritte’s workshop again. They said they would come with her to make sure their own regalia were correct. A lot of fuss about nothing, but you know what women are like.” He winked at me and I smiled as if I shared his sentiments.

  “What items of jewellery did you see while you were there?”

  “Princess Pauline’s earrings, a couple of necklaces. There were probably other things around, but I didn’t pay much attention, to be honest. Jewellery doesn’t interest me.”

  “Nothing special caught your eye?”

  “No. Was there something special? What exactly has been stolen?” His tone was sharp. I stared at him hard but he met my gaze without changing expression.

  “A bauble,” I repeated the Princess’s description to him, “but a valuable one.”

  “I wasn’t aware of any baubles. I suppose I would have seen other things if I looked, but I didn’t. If I remember rightly, I spent most of the time watching the lad blowing up the fire to heat the soldering irons. He was the only one doing anything active in the room.”

  “I am told that Princess Élisa dropped her scarf and you returned it to her.”

  “Yes I did. What of it?”

  “I am merely checking the accuracy of the information I have been given so far.”

  “It’s accurate enough. She did drop it and I picked it up for her. Is there any other question you would like to ask me?”

  “Not at the moment. I must thank you for your help and go to speak with the others who were present. Perhaps they noticed something that you did not.”

  “Perhaps they did. Saint Victor seemed more interested in the jewellery than me. Neither Princess Baciocchi nor Princess Murat miss anything that is going on around them. They’ll probably be able to answer you far better than I can. I wish you good luck with the hunt.”

  “Thank you for your concern.”

  I left the Hôtel Borghese, reflecting upon Dupré’s attitude. He seemed quite relaxed, once he had realised that I wasn’t a rival for Pauline’s favours. He had not started at any of my questions or otherwise betrayed surprise. He was either an extremely good actor or an innocent man. I was inclined to the former. I have enough experience now to tell when people are lying to me. I did not think he was an exception; he had raised my suspicions because his answers were too bland. He would bear further scrutiny.

  I decided to make one more visit before I returned to meet Fournier and Lefebvre at the Rose. I had only drawn negatives so far and I hoped for better luck with Caroline. Napoléon’s third and youngest sister had married one of her brother’s generals. Madame la Maréchale Murat only days ago had been created an Imperial Princess on condition she behaved herself at the coronation ceremony. I had heard much speculation in the taverns about what she had done to deserve such a stipulation being placed upon her. The rumour said that neither she nor her sisters wanted to carry the new Empress’s train but that might have been malicious gossip. I wanted to leave Élisa to the last, since I thought her the most likely culprit amongst the sisters. Certainly she had the best opportunity unless the workmen were lying.

  It was becoming late in the afternoon when I drove to Caroline’s. I was determined to do my job but reluctant to interview yet another drunken princess, especially as this one lacks her sister’s charm. Yet I had no choice. I visited the Hôtel Murat, only to be disappointed.

  “Their highnesses are not at home,” a lackey told me.

  “I must see Princess Murat, at the Emperor’s express command. Where is she?” I asked him.

  He looked as if he would like to slap me for my impudence. So I made haste to show him Napoléon’s letter, which caused his eyes to widen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, in a tone of forced politeness, “but the Princess is poorly. She is asleep and her physician has given orders that she must not be disturbed. The Prince is dining with friends. I can give you their address if the matter is urgent.”

  “It is but I need to see the Princess, not the Prince.”

  “The doctor has dosed her with laudanum. It would be hard to wake her. Even if we did so I doubt if she would be able to speak sensibly to you. I will ask her maid to rouse her if you insist but...” his words trailed off. I had been watching him carefully. He was, of course, an excellent servant and well trained to lie on
his mistress’s behalf. Yet he had reacted with genuine shock when he read the Emperor’s letter, which is difficult to feign. He would have to let me in if I persisted but if he was telling me the truth and she was drugged, it would do me no good. I did not want to raise unnecessary suspicions, which would doubtless be passed on to the Prince and Princess and put them on their guard.

  “When will the Princess be able to see me?”

  “The maid usually brings her chocolate at 10 o’clock. If she is better, she might receive you then. If she is still unwell, I cannot say.”

  “Inform the Princess that I will call on her again at 10 o’clock tomorrow morning,” I said and turned away. The interview would have to wait for now. I could not force myself into the bedroom of a sick woman who has been drugged with laudanum, especially not one so closely related to Napoléon. She would have legitimate cause to complain about me and that would hardly further my search. I groaned inwardly. I was little further forward and I was rapidly running out of time.

  I debated with myself what to do next. Should I go on to Élisa’s or meet the others and find out if they had better luck? In the end I thought it would be useful to have more information before I confronted the cleverest sister of all. Accordingly I returned first to the Ministry, to check whether anything had happened in my absence. I was feeling depressed when I arrived because I had discovered nothing of value from the people I had interviewed so far. I found Laurent there, writing at his desk. He bristled as soon as he saw me come in.

  “What’s this great case about then?” he asked me, challenge in his voice.

  “Where did you get hold of that idea,” I retorted. “Since when is it a great case to search for a lost bauble all over Paris?”

  “Depends on the bauble.”

  “This one’s a pain, believe me, but it belongs to one of the Emperor’s friends. So of course, someone has to look for it.”

  He shrugged. “And you were the chosen one as usual.”

  “Unlucky rather than chosen. I didn’t ask for the job. It’s tedious.”

  “You should hear the rumours that are going around about you.”

  “I can imagine. Don’t tell me please, I haven’t time for fairy stories right now.” I went to my desk and dashed off a quick note to Eugénie. I wanted to confirm to her that I would not have time to go home that night but that she could find me in the Rose later on. I added a mischievous line describing my encounter with Pauline, whose charms could not compare with her own. I hoped it would make her worry less to know I was safe from feminine whiles for now at least.

  “Seen Fournier or Lefebvre?” I asked Laurent.

  “No. They’ll be in some tavern swilling wine and pretending to work, as usual,” he said curtly and turned back to his papers. Then he glanced up. “Garnier was here, looking for you, not so long ago.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “How should I know? I’m not his keeper. He muttered something about seeing Réal. But how likely is that?”

  I repressed the urge to tell him that, in this case, it was very likely indeed. “I suppose I’d better go and see if he did, then,” I said and left him with a certain degree of relief. Laurent can be shrewd and he understands me well by now. I didn’t want him to guess too much from my expression or my words. I found a messenger to take my note to Eugénie and then I climbed up the stairs to Réal’s office. I must admit I was hoping fervently that Garnier had found something.

  “Have you found it?” Réal asked me with real emotion in his voice as soon as he saw me.

  “Unfortunately not. Laurent said Garnier came to see you?”

  “He did. Not that it’ll help you much. He reported that he and his men have had no luck. They’ve practically taken the workshop apart and found nothing. There are no secret places and all the men are clean. Everyone is being watched and their homes have also been thoroughly searched.”

  “What about the women, Madame and her servants?”

  “Garnier had enough sense to take a couple of our females with him to search them. They didn’t like it at all and shrieked a lot according to Garnier, but they submitted in the end.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Damn,” I swore. “I hoped Garnier might have been lucky and saved us all more trouble.”

  “So did I, but he told me that there is no evidence to connect any of them to the theft. Our only hope of pinning the crime on one of them is if the thief makes a mistake or a confession.”

  “Garnier doesn’t know about the crown itself, does he?” I asked anxiously.

  “No, but when he says that he found nothing, that’s exactly what he did find. No gold, no jewels, no jewellery. Not a thing out of its proper place. These men are either extremely clever or they’re innocent.”

  I sighed. Finding the crown so easily had been too much to wish for as I had suspected.

  “The minister sent for Garnier as soon as he returned from the Tuileries. I don’t know what the patron said to him but Garnier left the bureau as if his pants were on fire.”

  “Did he now? Good.”

  “Do you know something about it?”

  “A guess, that’s all. I think Garnier was ordered to take some of the workmen in for questioning.”

  “In spite of not having found anything to incriminate them?”

  “Yes. There is a possibility they conspired together to commit the theft. If they did, all their statements so far are worthless.”

  Réal nodded. “Garnier will find out one way or the other, no doubt about that. Where will you be when he reports?”

  “Not sure but I’ll leave a discreet word at the Rose, so a message will reach me.”

  “Very well. I’ll send for you if there is any need.”

  After I left Réal, I went to the Rose. Fournier and Lefebvre were both there when I arrived. Fournier took one look at my face and then called to the innkeeper for more wine.

  “Any luck?” I posed the question, more in forlorn hope than expectation.

  “Saint Victor is a fool,” Fournier said.

  “Is he a fool who is also a thief?”

  “Perhaps. He denied seeing the crown or taking it, of course.”

  “You didn’t tell him what we were looking for, did you?” I asked in alarm.

  “Certainly not. I said it was an item of jewellery which had been lying on the bench near to where he was standing. He agreed he was near to Robart’s work area. The crown must have been within his view, so he told one lie at least, unless he is completely blind.”

  “That is something, I suppose. Everybody will be careful with the truth as usual. They always are. Did you find out anything more about him?”

  “He’s on Princess Caroline’s staff, but he used to work for Princess Élisa when he first came to Paris. Madame Mère, the Emperor’s mother recommended him. There seems to be some mystery as to why he changed his employer because it happened quite suddenly. The word is that he is well thought of by both the ladies, which is unusual, especially as he is somewhat dull. He’s a fellow Corsican of course, which helps.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Apparently his mother was a friend of Madame Mère and he was a playfellow of the Bonaparte children when they were growing up.”

  “Fortunate for him.”

  “Indeed. We should all have such luck.”

  “Only if your taste runs to rich princesses,” I said, pursing up my lips at the thought. “None of my friends turned into Emperors, either, if it’s any comfort to you.”

  “Not to me, Soldier,” Lefebvre laughed. “My friends were thieves. Most of them are no longer with us now.” He drew his finger across his throat. “What have you found out then?”

  It didn’t take long to tell the story of my failures. The visit to Pauline made both of them laugh. The fact that Eugénie knew Madame de Herlay and her daughter, they thought might lead to something but they made no other comment. Garnier’s mission they regarded as
a necessary evil but neither of them was hopeful of a successful outcome. The only item that they found really interesting was the sudden indisposition of Princess Caroline. Fournier looked hard at me when I said that and asked,

  “A real illness or a strategic one, do you think?”

  “At a guess, strategic. I wonder why?”

  Fournier gave a snort. “It would be one way to guard the crown if she has it in her possession.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked. Fournier has a devious mind at times. That is why he has always been such a good agent.

  “If the princesses or their equerries took it, they are unlikely to let it out of their keeping until the coronation is over. It can be discarded later, of course, somewhere where it does not incriminate any of them or be taken abroad to be broken up. Just now it will be kept very close. They’re not mad enough to try to get rid of it yet. They must realise that the Police will be searching high and low.”

  “Go on.” This was a train of thought which had not occurred to me.

  “They will put it in the safest place they have, a safe or a locked drawer, maybe in a boudoir, close to one of them. Dupré, if he was the thief would most likely give the crown to Pauline at the earliest opportunity. He wouldn’t want to be found with it on his person or among his possessions. Saint Victor would do the same.”

  “Dupré is still Pauline’s shadow at the moment. Perhaps he believes that she would protect him if he took the crown to please her. But she’s a lady of fickle tastes. Fouché says she has her eye on one of the Imperial Guards as his replacement, although Dupré might not realise that of course.”

  “If he took the crown, he would have a secret to hold over her and bind her to him.”

  “But would he? Perhaps he might in the short term until the coronation is over. Then it won’t matter as much. She could get rid of him with impunity.”

  “But he could accuse her publicly.”

  “It would be a pyrrhic victory. He would have far more to lose than she does and he knows it. If you’re right about how the Emperor would react, Pauline would get off lightly but he wouldn’t. Which consequence would carry much weight with him, the loss of his mistress’ affections or a punishment inflicted by a vindictive Napoléon?”

 

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