Fury from Fontainebleau

by Adrian Speed

  Chapter XXVI

  The Town Hall looked like something from Istanbul, or Tehran, or Marrakesh, not a European city. It was a trapezoid block of bricks decorated with geometric shapes, Roman arches and hundreds of sharp finials. I thought it might be a legacy of the Ottoman empire, but it looked far too new for that. It looked as if the builders had only just taken away the scaffolding. Not even a smear of pigeon poo.

  Sir Reginald led me past the crowd assembled in front of it and ignored the speaker. Archduke Ferdinand stood near the podium looking almost as white-faced and shaken as I was. His bodyguard and wife stood almost too close to him, as if trying to mask him from the next bomb that would be thrown his way.

  “This way,” Sir Reginald muttered as we skirted the edge of the crowd. Barely on the edge of hearing I could hear the archduke cursing the mayor of the city in German, and could see the blush of embarrassment at admitting to his emotions even from here. I followed him to the Town Hall’s car park where the motorcade had drawn up. A dozen policemen and a few German officers stood guard.

  “Excuse me, officers,” Sir Reginald said in German to them, which I could follow slowly and shakily. “I am Sir Reginald and I am looking to meet Captain Heinrich Versteckt.” An embarrassed glance passed between the local policemen and the German guards.

  “Captain Versteckt is still at the fort,” a German soldier admitted. “These three,” he waved a hand at the Serbian policemen, “got into the car he was meant to be taking.”

  “We didn’t know,” the Serbians said in heavily accented German. “We told guard the archduke, we think–”

  “Ja ja, it doesn’t matter now.” The German officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, Herr Reginald, if you want Captain Verstackt he should be back at the fort, or he’s proceeding here on foot.”

  “Marvellous,” Sir Reginald muttered. “Simply marvellous.” He switched back to German. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.”

  We returned to the riverside and headed back towards the army camp. The streets were empty now, so different from a few moments ago. Only fallen confetti and flags lined the street now. As we got closer to the bomb site more shrapnel, clothes and broken glass littered the ground.

  “Such a waste.” Sir Reginald’s words barely seemed to capture the feeling.

  We headed towards the army camp. The guard had doubled since we left, and their rifles were lowered.

  “Halt, oh, it’s you again.” The guard frowned at us.

  “I am here to see Captain Heinrich Verskeckt,” Sir Reginald said, wearily.

  “I told you–”

  “And now I am telling you, he was not with the motorcade,” Sir Reginald cut the guardsman off. “Three Serbian policeman accidentally took his place. So please, send a messenger to find the good captain.”

  It did not take long to find the captain but he had to be dragged away from the radio station to even talk to us. He was taller, thinner and fitter than any of his descendants. There were few Sotheby features to make out, except for his flecked iris.

  “Alright, Sir Reginald, state your business,” Captain Verskeckt said gruffly as he arrived.

  “Can we speak in French?”

  “We can,” Captain Versteckt switched over.

  “Magnificent, thank you, Captain, I am performing a murder investigation and I would like to interview you as soon as possible; is there a place we can speak in private?”

  “A murder investigation?” Captain Versteckt flinched and one foot took a half step forwards. “Is the archduke–”

  “Oh, the archduke is fine, entirely unhurt; this matter pertains to–”

  “Ebenezer Arnold,” I cut Sir Reginald off. It was a gamble, but it paid off perfectly. The captain froze solid.

  “You are not under any suspicion, Captain,” Sir Reginald said swiftly. “The matter we’re investigating happened decades from now,” dozens of decades, “but we would like to know everything you know about Ebenezer Arnold.”

  “Caught up with us at last,” Heinrich muttered. He melted and waved us forward. “Come with me, we can speak in the officer’s mess. Sign yourselves in.” Heinrich pointed to the guardhouse and the ledger inside.

  As we followed Heinrich into the fort I couldn’t help but notice how new it looked. Austrian style of honey-coloured stone.

  “Yes, it was built to defend against the Turks,” Heinrich said. “If Sarajevo were to fall to them again it would be a nightmare to wrinkle them back out. This way please.”

  Inside one of the buildings we followed Heinrich into a large open dining hall. It was empty and the chairs were stacked on the tables for cleaning. “They call this the casino, we shouldn’t be disturbed for an hour or two.” Heinrich said with a smile. “Let me pull you up a chair.” Heinrich stepped over to a small table and set its four chairs down on the floor. He pulled one out for me, but let Sir Reginald seat himself.

  “Thank you,” I said with an embarrassed smile. I doubted I would ever get used to the etiquette of the past.

  “So,” Heinrich settled down on the opposite side of the table from us and clasped his hands together. “Ebenezer Arnold.” His eyes darted between each of us, as if calculating how little he could get away with saying. He didn’t elaborate earlier until Sir Reginald spoke.

  “My associate Hannah Delaronde and I have been investigating a death in the Arnold family,” Sir Reginald began. “This led to an investigation of Ebenezer Arnold and we have reason to believe he is the one who convinced Tsar Alexander to imprison Napoleon on Elba.”

  “Oh indeed?” Heinrich’s body language didn’t change.

  “We know that Ebenezer Arnold and the Tsar met in Paris shortly before the signing of the Treaty of Fontainebleau. In the Hotel De Ville.”

  “That is... entirely possible.”

  “We know you know about this.” Sir Reginald tapped the table. “I want you to tell me what you know.”

  “Sounds like you know just about everything,” Heinrich shrugged. “It’s not the biggest secret in history–”

  “We know Ebenezer Arnold was your great uncle.” Heinrich’s eyes snapped onto me. Sir Reginald turned slowly in his chair. “Even your surname declares it. Versteckt is German for ‘hidden’. You’re the hidden branch of the Arnold family.” I leant forward and pressed him. “Ebenezer Arnold convinced the Holy Alliance to imprison Napoleon in Elba, and when Napoleon escaped and returned to France your side of the family fled in shame.”

  “We fled in shame yes, but not our shame,” Heinrich snapped. “Ebenezer... that name should be held forever with the greatest of betrayers. Judas, Brutus, Cassius and Ebenezer Arnold are chewed forever in the mouths of the devil. It’s far worse than you know...” Heinrich seemed to chew his teeth for a moment and rubbed his hands together. Better than most cardsmen, he knew when to fold. “When my grandfather Waverly found out what Ebenezer had done he knew the family would need to be above reproach if it was to be saved. He took a horse to Vienna with all the haste he could and pledged his service to the Austrian emperor. If Napoleon returned, Waverly would be able to defend our family’s honour on the battlefield.”

  “Why not the British army?” Sir Reginald asked.

  “The British were already talking about paring the army down now Napoleon was defeated; they would not have accepted another officer.” Heinrich looked around the room and gestured at the sumptuous luxury. “In Austria they only cared about the depth of a man’s pocket. Waverly spent all he dared on outfitting himself and his new company and steeled himself against the possibility of Napoleon’s return.” Heinrich shook his head sadly. “But Ebenezer was even more of a snake than Waverly expected. The Arnold ship-mechanism business was suffering as the navies of Europe stopped building new ships, and it was nearly impossible to find credit as ships were no longer expected to be blowing each other up every week. My great-uncle Ebenezer had wanted Napoleon to stay close to Europe to keep the businessmen worried, you see? To keep the investment coming in,
to keep the supply of mechanisms flowing. But just having Napoleon nearby wasn’t enough, and there was talk... there was talk Napoleon would be moved to St Helena. It was what the Austrians and British preferred. As far as my grandpa Waverly was concerned the company could go hang as long as their honour was preserved... but Ebenezer was a snake.” Heinrich covered his face with his hands. “I swore to my grandpa I would take this to my grave.”

  “Please, Heinrich, we’re detectives,” I said. “We won’t breathe this to another person alive today.”

  “Grandpa Waverly was the one who set me up in the military,” Heinrich said, to himself more than anyone else. “He supported my entry into the Theresian Military Academy, he paid for my first uniform. He paid for the best teachers and doctors when I was a child and I was struggling to learn to read. I owe him... to keep this secret.”

  “Heinrich if you find it easier to keep this secret you may do so, I understand fully the ties of family,” Sir Reginald said tenderly. “However, my associate Hannah and I are honour bound to continue to search for the truth. If we cannot learn it from you, we shall continue our search abroad, and I can assure you, we will find it. No event in history passes without evidence. We shall find it, we shall use it to piece together the truth, and we shall know. And we will be under no obligation to keep it secret, as we discovered it ourselves. If you tell us now, you have my honour as a gentleman that the secret will follow you to your grave. We shall not reveal it to anyone alive.”

  Heinrich squirmed under our gaze. I stood up, as if preparing to leave. Heinrich was just about to break.

  “Ebenezer…” Heinrich rubbed his face and groaned. “Ebenezer…”

  “Hauptmann Versteckt! Hauptmann Versteckt!” A junior officer burst into the room and slid across the floor to the table, rattling out German as fast as he could.

  “Excuse me, I must leave.” Heinrich stood and didn't give us a chance to argue. “The Archduke’s plans have changed and now I really must go to him.”

  “We need an answer–” I started to say, but Sir Reginald cut me off.

  “We will come with you,” Sir Reginald said.

  “That would not be appropriate, I need to guard the Archduke–”

  “And we will wait for you to finish,” Sir Reginald said with a smile. “But until then, if you do not mind, I would not like to let you leave my sight.”

  “Very well.” Heinrich did not give us a chance to process his answer, he was striding out of the room before he had even finished the sentence. Sir Reginald and I both had to break into a run to keep up with his long, soldier’s strides. Once we were out under open sky he spoke again. “You did not tell me, when you arrived, that someone tried to assassinate the archduke.”

  “The archduke was uninjured, the assassin apprehended, what good would it have done to tell you?” Sir Reginald asked.

  “It would have encouraged me to go to him immediately,” Heinrich growled. There was a pause while we signed ourselves out of the barracks. “As it is I have to meet him at the Appel Quay.” Heinrich led us onwards to the river and the great boulevards that straddled it. “He is going to the hospital to see the wounded from the assassination attempt.” He looked back at Sir Reginald and me with a mild look of superiority. “I hope you two can keep up with a motor car, as there will be no room once I’m aboard.”

  “Rest assured, my dear Heinrich, we will follow wherever you lead.” Sir Reginald and I fell into step behind him as we crossed the bridge and Heinrich took up station on the Appel Quay. The streets were a little more busy, with people returning to the streets after the chaos. Down the road there were men sitting outside the deli eating sandwiches, shoppers going about their errands. There was still a sense of maudlin compared to the elation of the earlier crowd, but life was beginning to return to normal.

  “Shouldn’t be long,” Heinrich muttered. “The Archduke’s motor car is quite fast, and the streets should be clear…” Some long minutes still passed before we heard the rumble of an approaching engine.

  “This is the wrong way!” a distant shout in German made us all look up. A little further down the street an open top car was reversing around a corner deli. “We’re supposed to take the Appel Quay!” Even from this distance I recognised the moustache and hat of the archduke. Their car slowly reversed back onto the riverfront road. I wondered for a moment whether Franz Ferdinand would recognise the sacrifice I had almost made for him earlier that day. Him and all who would come after.

  A man in the deli put down his sandwich, stood up and lurched towards the car. Gunshots rang out like firecrackers. I watched the duchess fall limp, the crowds pressed around the shooter and my blood ran cold.

  “The Archduke!” Heinrich sprinted towards the car, shouting in German. Even from this distance I could see blood spilling down the archduke’s blue coat. Sir Reginald and I ran to follow but I felt utterly numb. It had all been for nothing. I had been prepared to embrace non-existence, and history had rolled on as if my sacrifice had meant nothing.

  “Sophie, Sophie,” the archduke’s voice was rattling as we slammed against the side of the car. “Sophie don’t die. Live for our children.”

  “Driver, get us to the governor’s mansion, now,” Heinrich snarled as we clung to the sides of the car. The engine roared and the car lurched forward. Sir Reginald and I leapt onto the running boards of the car as the ground suddenly went from under us. “Let me see your injury Your Highness–”

  “It’s nothing,” the archduke’s voice was fainter, “it’s nothing.” Heinrich pressed his hands against the archduke’s chest to try and stop the bleeding, but blood was pooling around his fingers. “I’ve got to get your uniform off,” Heinrich muttered. “Does anyone have scissors?” he screeched at the rest of the car. Heinrich pulled at the seams and buttons but nothing seemed to give. The buttons weren’t even functional; the archduke was practically sewn into his uniform. Heinrich and one of the other guards were arguing in German too fast for me to follow. The world blurred as the car roared. The archduke’s voice faded almost to a whisper as he held his wife. Somehow the two of them stayed upright as the car skidded through the ancient streets of the city and into the governor’s estate. “It’s… nothing,” he assured everyone as he was hauled out of the car and taken inside.

  All of us along the side of the car followed the bodies, and I was sure they were bodies by now. Franz Ferdinand looked so pale, so utterly pale, as if all his life had bled out through Heinrich's fingers.

  “I have a doctor here!” the governor shouted above the noise as they lay the archduke and his wife down in the parlour. Heinrich had stumbled to a stop in the hallway once the doctors took over. He just stared ahead of him at nothing while his brain tried to comprehend what happened. The blood on his hands and clothes started to dry as we all stood and waited, and worried.

  “Heinrich,” Sir Reginald's voice broke the silence. “Let’s get you a stiff drink.”

  “I should have been in that car,” Heinrich’s voice was barely a whisper. “I should have been there to throw myself in front of the bullets.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” Sir Reginald gently rested a hand on Heinrich’s shoulder, but Heinrich flinched away. "Who could have foreseen two assassins?"

  “We… I should… but I was… I was…”

  Very gently Sir Reginald approached Heinrich again, and this time the captain yielded to his touch, and followed Sir Reginald into another room. Using a sixth sense for alcohol, Sir Reginald found a decanter of something strong and brown, and poured a small glass and pressed it into Heinrich’s shaking hands. The scent of the alcohol alone seemed to enliven his spirit.

  “Grandpa Waverly is going to kill me,” Heinrich muttered. He drank deeply from the glass. “It’s all going to happen again. Everything we did, Waverly, father, it was all for nothing.” Heinrich drained his glass and pushed it back into Sir Reginald’s hands. Sir Reginald filled it again, but only half as full. “It’s not going to stop with
the archduke is it? There’s going to be a war. We’ll invade the Serbs, and the Russians will invade us, and the Germans will invade them, and the French will stick their oar in, and the world is going to be plunged into chaos and destruction because of my family, because of me, again.”

  Sir Reginald and I sat down and just waited. We knew it was coming. After Heinrich drained his glass for a second time the words started spilling out.

  “Ebenezer used his connections with the navy to delay the regular British patrol between Elba and France,” Heinrich said softly. “Napoleon’s ship only met one French vessel between Elba and Cannes, and they didn’t investigate. When my grandpa Waverly found out he sent letters to Ebenezer pretending to be a servant saying Waverly had died of malaria in southern climes. He changed his name to Versteckt, and continued to serve the Austrians. He refused to return to England and he could not punish his brother without bringing shame on the entire family. He stayed silent, and prayed the event would chasten Ebenezer. He spent his whole life, and my father spent his whole life, trying to pay back our family’s debt to the world. And now… and now I’ve undone it all.”

  “You've done no such thing.” Sir Reginald drew the captain’s shaking hands together. "You hear me? How many guards were with the archduke? A dozen? And your superior, Count Harrach, he was in the car wasn’t he? What could you have done that they couldn’t do?”

  “Something. Anything.”

  “Nothing,” I promised. “There’s nothing you could have done. Trust me. Events like this… they’re history. One person… one person can’t change them. If you had been there, you’d still have ended up here, just like this, just the same.” Sir Reginald looked at me slightly cock-eyed at that, but it seemed to calm Heinrich somewhat.

  “I hope… I hope…” Heinrich took a deep breath and composed himself. “I hope it helps with your murder investigation,” Heinrich sighed. He stood up, and made his way to the decanter, pouring himself a much larger glass than any Sir Reginald had offered. “But please, remember your promise. From back in the Casino.”