Duval and the Empress's Crown

by Michele McGrath

  I returned to the Hôtel Baciocchi and for the rest of the day, the three of us took turns to watch the place. Fournier reported that both Caroline and Pauline had left Élisa’s just after we had gone. They drove away in a carriage together, with the maximum fuss. I wondered if they were deliberately drawing attention to their departure. I also wondered what would happen when Caroline found out that her hôtel had been searched in her absence. I expected some kind of outcry but nothing occurred. No doubt she did not know where Lefebvre and I were now, so we were spared her displeasure.

  Lefebvre returned after making checks at both Pauline’s and Caroline’s as promised. He had seen Pauline arrive and go into her house. He spoke to the servants but had little to report. Nothing was happening there and he had not found the opportunity to arrange for anyone to keep him informed.

  “That’s unlike you, mon brave,” Fournier said.

  “I might have done better if I’d had more time.” Lefebvre shrugged. “I had to decide whether to stay there in the hopes I could find someone to tell me more or return to Caroline’s. I decided that would be more promising and I was right. Caroline’s hôtel was in a flurry. I could hear her shouting even from the street. My contact among the servants, a lackey I had bribed, was obviously afraid to talk to me. He took one look at me and hurried back inside. I did not dare press him or go after him, so I came here. I’ll go back later when hopefully things are calmer to check where the Princesses are.”

  “At the ball with a bit of luck. All except Élisa, I hope.”

  “I’ll go, not Lefebvre,” Fournier said.

  “You don’t have his contacts,” I objected.

  “Doesn’t sound as if they have been any use. Besides, the people who attacked you at Caroline’s don’t know me, they would recognise him.”

  “Good point.”

  “I was careful to avoid the ones who had seen me before. I didn’t show myself until the lackey came out into the back alley alone, but as I said, he turned tail and I did not speak with him.”

  “If you both stay here, you might find an opportunity to get into the house earlier. Better if Lefebvre stays on the spot in case you do,” Fournier argued.

  I nodded. “Very well then. We will. You can check the other hôtels.”

  We put both the front and back doors of Élisa’s under observation and waited. It was a boring few hours as we expected it to be. Everything was peaceful for a while. Eventually Fournier left to go on his rounds. A few tradesmen called. A visitor or two appeared. Then one of the servants left on an errand and Lefebvre said suddenly,

  “There she is!”

  “Who?”

  “Margot.” He slipped away to find out what he could from her. When he came back he was smiling.

  “What’s happened?” I asked.

  “She’s agreed to meet me again. She’s a pretty little thing. Blue eyes and fair hair, lots of it.”

  “Keep your mind on the task. You can do your philandering later,” I replied scathingly and Lefebvre shrugged, but the smile remained on his face. “Did you find out anything relevant to the case?”

  “Élisa has not left her chamber all day,” he reported. “She’s in bed with a chill and says she must stay there tonight, in order to be well enough for the festivities tomorrow. She’s cancelled her engagements for this evening and sent her servants away, so she can rest. That is unusual for her and everyone is gossiping about it amongst themselves. Most of them think they’d rise from their very deathbeds to go to the ball.”

  “I don’t suppose she cares about the ball. She’s been to enough of them. Where’s her husband? Do you know?”

  “Not with her as usual. They don’t always share a bed and he’s more often absent than at home. The lady hasn’t sent for him, but that’s not unusual either.”

  I nodded. From what I have heard, Baciocchi is not the sort of man I could imagine tenderly caring for an invalid. “Is he likely to return?”

  “Who knows? Margot doesn’t.”

  “Fine thing if he catches us in his wife’s bedroom.”

  “He’ll be at the ball with all the others. Even if his wife is sick, it’s no reason for him to stay away is it? Not unless she’s dying.”

  “I suppose not. Questions might be asked if neither of them appeared. Supposing he actually knows about the theft, of course,” I mused.

  “That’s a point. In Élisa’s position would I tell him?”

  “I wouldn’t and if he doesn’t know, I wonder what he would do if he finds out?”

  “Perhaps nothing.”

  “Or perhaps a lot,” I said.

  “Well I’m not going to inform him. We still don’t have any real evidence and likely enough he’d support his wife even if we had.”

  Some more time passed until Lefebvre said,

  “Fournier should be back by now. Shall I go to look for him?”

  “Having doubts about your theory?” I challenged him.

  “Aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “We could all be wrong. Before we get into the wrong sister’s home, let’s find out.”

  “Go then but keep out of sight and don’t be long even if you don’t find him. It’s nearly dark.”

  “Hours yet before we can act, but I’ll be as quick as I can.

  I spent an hour or so biting my fingernails, in anticipation of what the night would bring until a carriage drew up outside the hôtel. Dupré arrived and was admitted to the house. The coachmen had obviously been dismissed because it drove away. Dupré stayed for a while then he emerged, spoke to the majordomo, turned and walked off down the street. I noticed that he did not carry anything with him. I did not think he would cause any unpleasantness in the open with people passing by, so I acted instinctively. Here was an opportunity to find out more information. I hurried to catch him up.

  “Ah, Colonel,” I greeted him, “a pleasant evening.”

  He did not suppress his frown quickly enough to conceal it from me but he answered smoothly.

  “Indeed it is, Monsieur. A good evening to you. I did not expect to meet you here.”

  “My duties take me to all parts of Paris.”

  “I see. Then I would be wrong in thinking that you have been following me?”

  “Of course not,” I exclaimed. “Why should I? Our meeting is only a happy chance.” It was not hard to put conviction into my tone because I had not, in truth, followed the man. He must have heard it or did not want to become involved in a dispute because he said,

  “Is there any way I can be of service to you?”

  “Only if you have remembered anything else about your visit to the workshop?” I asked.

  “Sadly no, but if I do, I will certainly be in touch with you.”

  We parted amicably. There was an undoubted lightness in his stride as he walked away from me. For a moment or two, I was even more certain that we had reasoned right. Then doubts set in and I began to wonder. As I walked back to my vantage point, I experienced icy shivers down my spine. What if we were wrong? What if we were discovered searching Élisa’s boudoir? The Emperor’s warrant had given me permission to question his sisters, not specifically to break into their houses. Yet we had only a few hours left and I had run out of other options. I was desperate. Would either Fouché or the Emperor protect us? Possibly, probably not. If Élisa was innocent then we were in deep trouble. I hesitated. Should we call the whole thing off? If I did, I would have to admit total failure. The choice was metaphorically to be condemned for taking action, or to be condemned for failing to act.

  Suddenly I realised a fact that I had been trying to avoid. Either way, my career in the bureau would never be the same as it had been before. With that in mind, I preferred to be condemned for taking action. I began to feel as I used to do just before battle but I conquered the fear more easily than I had done then. Such things are easier when you are no longer a youth. I decided to say nothing about my doubts to Lefebvre and Fournier when they returned, although I was certain tha
t they would share them. They would be stupid not to and neither are fools.

  They returned back just as I started to become seriously worried in case they had been recognised and apprehended.

  “What’s happened?” I asked.

  “Sorry I’ve been so long but I wanted to make sure,” Fournier reported. “I was halfway here when Lefebvre met me. Nothing at Pauline’s. Everything’s normal there, except for the fact that she seems a bit more affectionate to Dupré than she’s been of late. At least she was clinging to his arm when they left for the ball. I even spotted them embracing in the carriage before it drew away.”

  “Indiscreet. Where was her husband?”

  “Not with her. Is he ever?”

  “Rarely, I believe. Perhaps she owes Dupré something.”

  “For services rendered? Perhaps she does. Nothing at Caroline’s either. She and Murat are dining with friends on the other side of the river and then they are also going on to the ball.”

  “So Élisa’s does look the most promising,” I concluded.

  “Especially as Margot told me that the door to her chamber has no lock...” Lefebvre said meaningfully.

  “Meaning she really does have to remain there on guard. What if I ask to see her again?”

  “She’s certain to refuse you until after the coronation when it will be too late. Besides you can hardly force yourself openly onto a sick woman.”

  “Whereas it’s quite all right if we do so covertly?”

  Lefebvre grinned. “Of course.”

  12

  10 Frimaire, Year XIII

  (Saturday, December 1, 1804)

  It was the middle of the night before the house became quiet and most of the lights had been extinguished. Lefebvre prowled around the place several times before he decided on his method of entry, a small window opening into an alleyway at the side of the hôtel. Apparently he had managed to find out from Margot the layout of the inside of the house and the location of the principal rooms.

  “Both the Prince and the Princess have small suites on the first floor,” he told me. “The Princess’s overlooks the garden, such as it is. There is a gate into the street and the wall is covered in creeper, a good way of escape if necessary.”

  “Let’s hope to God we don’t need to use it,” I said fervently. “I’d be caught for sure.”

  “Courage, mon brave. I always look for a means of getting away but I’ve never had to use it yet.”

  “Never?”

  “Never,” he confirmed with a nod. “With luck the window will serve us both ways, in and out. From the cobwebs, nobody’s used it for years. It’ll be a tight squeeze for you though, since Eugénie’s been feeding you too well.” His teeth shone in the torch light from the street as he grinned. I cuffed him for his cheek.

  I was shivering but not just from the December chill as Lefebvre worked his magic on our behalf. He has not forgotten any of the skills that once made him the best thief in Paris. He unlatched the window easily enough although it took both of us to force it open. The wood gave a shriek and we both froze, ready to run in case someone had overheard. No one came to investigate. After a minute or two, Lefebvre put his leg into the room and wriggled through the opening. He’d warned me not to follow him immediately. He wanted to make sure everything was quiet. He would give me a signal. The moments before he came back for me were not the pleasantest of my life, although I have known worse, usually on a battlefield. Eventually I saw his hand waving to me and I squeezed through the window after him. He was right. It was a struggle, so it is fortunate indeed that neither of us is really fat, despite his slur on me. Fournier would never have forced his way through at all, no matter how much he pushed and shoved.

  The room I climbed into was black and smelled musty. I pulled out my tinderbox and struck a spark. For an instant I got a glimpse of a small storeroom with shelves and sacks tossed on the floor.

  “Put that away,” Lefebvre hissed. “Do you want to start a fire? Use your hands!”

  I guessed rather than saw him open the door, for suddenly the air smelled fresher.

  “Hold onto my coat and step carefully,” he ordered. “We’ll creep along the walls. Easier not to trip that way.”

  I did as he asked and he led me down a short corridor and up a small flight of stairs.

  “Wait here while I find out what’s ahead.”

  He was not gone long which was just as well because my nerves were jangling and my ears were strained for the slightest sound. All I heard was the scurrying of a mouse going about its proper business.

  “Come on,” he whispered at last. “There’s no one stirring; they’re all in bed.” Unsurprising really since the servants had to be up early to prepare everything for the coronation festivities the day after tomorrow. They would want to watch the procession, which would begin almost at dawn, so they would have to work furiously in order to be free.

  The place was dark and still. We crept down the corridors as quickly as we could given the fact we were trying to make no noise. Lefebvre had made me tie a soft piece of skin over my shoes to muffle my footsteps and he wore laced overshoes of the same material.

  “A secret of the trade,” he told me when he gave them to me. “Don’t tell anyone else.”

  Lefebvre had found out the location of Élisa’s secret place, which apparently was no secret to the servants. It had not even been necessary to bribe Margot. Élisa is not easy to work for and seems not to inspire loyalty.

  “Why would I bribe her? She succumbed to my charm of course,” Lefebvre protested when I asked him how he had obtained the information. Lefebvre led me up the main staircase towards the back of the house. His information proved to be true and we were very soon outside the Princess’s bedroom. When he turned the handle, the door opened. The room had no lock, as he had been told.

  He eased inside and we stood still, listening hard. Everything was silent, save for the soft breathing of the occupant. It had the rhythm of someone fast asleep. If I was ever asked, I would be able to vouch for the fact that the lady did not snore. A subtle perfume hung in the air and I had to stifle an untimely desire to sneeze. We crept forward in the gloom, testing each footstep before we took it, in case a floorboard creaked. I dreaded the thought that I might knock against some stool or knickknack but Lefebvre made no mistake. I kept my hand on his shoulder as I walked behind him. It was almost as if he was able to see in the dark, like a cat. Then he halted. The soft sounds became louder and the white draperies of a bed stood out against the darkness of the walls. I strained my eyes to make out the outline of the figure lying there. Then Lefebvre moved on and perforce I followed him.

  A small alcove was set back from the main room. It seemed to contain a few items of furniture.

  “What now?” I breathed in his ear.

  “The writing desk.” He ran his hands across its back, pressing hard. A click echoed in the silence and both of us whipped round to the figure in the bed, but the pattern of her breathing did not falter. He left me there and moved away, to unlatch the window, his way of escape. I prayed that we would not have to use it. I eased open the desk and very carefully felt inside. Part of the panelling had opened outwards. I slipped my hand inside and I heard a soft tinkle as I felt something shift. I closed my fingers round it and drew out a heavy metal object that shimmered in the faint light. I ran the fingers of my other hand over it but the shape was unmistakable. It was a diadem or crown. I was triumphant and terrified at the same time. We had found what we were searching for. Now would we be able to get away with it undetected?

  I hardly breathed as I shut the lid carefully and tiptoed over to him.

  Lefebvre took the crown from my hand, swathed it a bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then we both froze. There were sounds in the corridor, footsteps coming in our direction. Their owner did not walk quietly or slowly. It sounded like a man’s heavy booted feet, rather than the soft shuffle of a woman in slippers. Whoever he was, he was in a hurry.

  I
gripped Lefebvre’s arm. “We can’t get out that way if he comes in here,” I whispered, aware of the panic in my voice.

  “The ivy looks strong enough to hold us, I’ll go first,” he replied. The figure in the bed was beginning to stir. She must have been disturbed by our whispers or by the sounds outside. Lefebvre slung his leg over the window frame and climbed out into the night. The dry leaves rustled with his movements. I waited, giving him time to get clear in case the creeper could not bear the weight of two of us at the same time. Then the footsteps paused outside the room and the door flew back with a crash. The woman in the bed shot upright with a startled cry. I had a second or two to conceal myself behind some draperies before the light of a branch of candles flickered over the room. Then the door was kicked shut and a man advanced towards the bed.

  “What have you done, you little fool?” His voice was furious, but he was obviously trying not to be overheard by anyone outside. He hissed rather than shouted his words at her. The bed creaked as Élisa raised herself from the pillows. I put my eye to the slit in the curtains. The angry figure of Félix Baciocchi, Élisa’s husband, loomed over her, shaking a fist in her face.

  “What do you mean?” her voice was shaky with the shock of her abrupt awakening.

  “You may have ruined us all with this latest little trick of yours.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Didn’t they tell you I’m not well? Please leave me alone. You’re making my head throb with your shouting.”

  “You’ll be lucky if you keep it on your shoulders after this,” he slammed the branch of candles down onto the floor. “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me, lady, I understand you far too well. Where is the Empress’s crown?”

  “With the Emperor, I presume. Where else should it be?”

  “No, it isn’t. He told us so tonight. After dinner he called all the family together privately. Joséphine’s crown vanished after you and your sisters visited the workshop where it was being made. He as good as accused you, Caroline or Pauline of being the culprit and he ordered us to bring it to him immediately. So where is it?”