Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine 01/01/11

by Dell Magazines

  “Do you think he will pay you tomorrow?”

  I thought about that for a while.

  “No, not really. He cheats everyone.”

  With that much having already been spoken, Remy wormed the rest of the story out of me, every last detail down to the smallest one.

  “Is that all?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes toward the top of my head to see if there was anything there I’d forgotten. “Oh yes, upon arriving, the merchant addressed someone named Père Duval, but I saw only Jules, Blondel, and Lebel.”

  Remy laughed aloud and ruffled my hair with one hand. “Jules is using a phony name to go with his phony scheme, boy. Don’t you see?”

  I pulled away from his offending hand. And, no, I didn’t see. “But in front of my very own eyes, Lebel made gold,” I insisted.

  The smile slowly dropped from Remy’s countenance. He acquired a serious mien. “I have a proposition for you, boy, one which will reward you more than if Jules actually paid you what he owes. Are you interested?”

  While I was not in favor of any enterprise which increased the fortunes of the Chevalier, I also knew that getting any pay from Jules would be like getting blood out of a turnip. And even then that blood would probably be mine. Best for me to take care of one enemy at a time, but even better if Remy’s intentions pitted him and Jules against each other.

  “What is your plan?” I asked.

  “My plan is my own,” he replied, “but here is what I need you to do.” Remy then explained I should stay in the villa on the morrow to see if Jules intended to use the same building again for his next meeting with the merchant. When I knew for sure, I was to meet with Remy in a certain grove of trees on the downslope side of the refuse pits.

  “What will you be doing?” I inquired.

  “I have business in Paris with some old friends.” Then he broke a chunk of bread off a long loaf and tossed it to me. “Here, eat your supper and sleep well. I have need of your services tomorrow.”

  At least someone felt my services were necessary. I’d have appreciated that sentiment better had he used the word “talent” instead of “services,” but if I were to be paid well, then perhaps I could overlook his choice of wording for now.

  When I awoke, the Chevalier had already gone. With no one present, I quickly searched through our meager food stores. Seizing the leftover cooked leg and thigh of a fowl which had been wrapped in white cloth, I hurried out of our three-walled abode and set off to conduct my duties as ordered.

  Jules and Blondel were nowhere to be found, but Lebel was a different matter. For a dying man, he seemed pretty healthy to me as he caroused from the thieves in our community to the beggars, the counterfeiters, and then ending with the few trollops who had not gone into Paris to ply their wares. Two bottles of wine I counted, all for himself, though he did share a few swallows with one of the trollops he appeared to be wooing. He moved along, talking to all in a boastful manner about his future, although he never once came out with the reason for his boasting. In the end, Lebel trudged over to the building in the east ruins at dusk, the same building as the night before. And there a few minutes later, I saw Blondel and Jules approach the blanket-covered front door. Then they split. Blondel entered through the front, while Jules walked around to the rear of the ruins and disappeared. When he didn’t return, I remembered the back door into the room and speculated he went in that way.

  As a blood red moon rose up over the plains of the Saracen Well, I started down the chalky gravel path. By the time I’d reached the refuse pits, the moon had softened to a pale orange and grown smaller in the sky. Before I reached the tree grove, Remy stepped out of the shadows and came to meet me.

  “It’s to be the same place,” I whispered.

  “Good,” he replied. “Let me get my cloak and we will wait for your merchant to pass by on his way up.”

  I waited patiently as Remy disappeared into the grove of trees. As long as it took him to return to my side, he must have lost his direction and wandered a bit. Plus, at times I swore there were hushed voices back where he went. Suddenly, he appeared again.

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  “Merely wind in the upper leaves,” he replied.

  Halfway back to the path, the Chevalier pulled me behind a small clump of bushes.

  “We will wait here in cover. Tell me when your merchant passes. After he gets out of sight, then we will follow.”

  I still had no idea what Remy had for a plan, but he obviously wasn’t going to tell me at this point. The first hour of waiting wasn’t bad. Trees, bushes, tall grass; everything was touched with a dull goldness beaming down from the full yellow moon climbing overhead. By the second hour, I must have dozed off, maybe a little. Remy shook me awake.

  “Wha—”

  He quickly placed his hand over my mouth.

  “A group is coming up the path,” he whispered in my ear.

  I peeled his fingers from my mouth, leaned forward, and gently parted the bush in front. Sure enough, three lanterns showed a party of four men making their way toward the Buttes Chaumont. The shorter man was my merchant, and it appeared that his untrusting nature had added another swordsman to his retainers.

  At a bend in the upward path, we lost sight of the glow of their trailing lanterns. Remy hauled me to my feet and pushed me toward the chalky path.

  “Now we go.”

  With the moon’s brightness upon the ground, it was no problem to find my way. We were soon around the bend in the path and moving upward. Always we stayed far enough back to avoid discovery by those we followed. Twice I wanted to stop and check our back trail, but each time, Remy was close behind and firmly nudged me forward. Something nibbled at the edge of my brain, but my mind couldn’t quite grasp what it was.

  On top of the Buttes Chaumont, we closed the distance between us and the merchant’s party, so that when they stopped in front of the blanket-covered doorway at the east ruins, we found cover behind a low wall within earshot of the merchant demanding entrance. As the blanket opened, all four men filed into the room. In that brief light from inside, I noticed two of the retainers carried heavy leather bags. Then the blanket fell shut and the light was gone.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Now show me your hiding place.”

  Quietly, I guided the Chevalier to the side of the ruins and pointed at a gap of light between the roof and the top of the wall.

  “You,” he said, “will climb up there as before to listen and watch what happens. I have some short business to attend to and will join you in a moment.”

  He waited until I was secured high up in my hiding place before he left. I had no idea where he went, but he soon returned and settled in beside me. He hadn’t missed much. Jules and the merchant hadn’t progressed beyond an argument which started shortly after Jules had inquired how much silver the merchant had brought. Avoiding an answer to that question, the merchant was trying to negotiate better terms for himself.

  Jules acted shocked, as if his feelings had been hurt.

  “We already have terms of agreement.”

  “Yes,” replied the merchant, but I supply all the silver, the greater risk is mine.”

  “And,” retorted Jules, “I supply the alchemist. As you well know, alchemy is against Church law, to say nothing of the king’s law.”

  “That risk we both take,” said the merchant. “I want six shares for myself, four shares go to you. Else I leave this very minute and take my silver with me.”

  “Now,” whispered Remy in my ear, “watch Jules make a show of reluctant acceptance.”

  Jules winced. He looked at Blondel, he stared at the ceiling, he glowered at the fire, he punched his right fist into his left palm, then he straightened up.

  “Very well, “he said, “but I’ll accept no less than that.”

  The merchant let out a breath he seemed to be holding and grinned in triumph. “Done.” He motioned for his retainers to place his two large bags
of silver coins on the opposite side of the fire pit where Lebel’s large metal washing bowl rested on broken stone flooring.

  Jules’s and Blondel’s eyes followed the transfer of the two large bags.

  “Proceed,” the merchant said in a voice rising with excitement.

  “Rouse the alchemist,” ordered Jules.

  Blondel went to the rag bed where Lebel lay. This time it took longer to get Lebel to his feet. He coughed more and his complexion was ghastly. I began to think maybe he really was dying.

  “Soot, with dark yellow and green dyes on his face, neck, and hands,” whispered Remy. “Someone applied it well. He almost looks like a walking cadaver.”

  With Lebel in a seemingly weakened state and unable to lift heavy loads, Blondel opened each of the two bags and poured their contents into the gentleman’s washing bowl. Silver coins rang and flashed in the firelight. The pile quickly grew. At the sight of so much money, the room became deadly silent. All stared at the large metal bowl.

  Finally.

  “Put the bowl over the fire.” Jules’s voice sounded hoarse.

  Blondel slid the container onto the metal grate.

  Even from my distance, I could tell it made a heavy weight to move.

  “See the gloves Blondel is wearing?” whispered Remy. “That is how he managed to exchange the small metal bowl of silver coins last night for the bowl with the one gold Louis without burning his own fingers like the merchant did.”

  “But when did he make the exchange? I saw his every move.”

  “When Lebel threw the copper-based chemical onto the flames, you and the others were blinded by the flash long enough for Blondel to make his move. Plus, I’ll wager the blue smoke you spoke about covered his efforts to conceal the first bowl underneath Lebel’s bed of rags after Blondel stumbled backward from the fire.”

  Ah, now the events of last night made more sense. Jules was up to his trickery again, but I could see some problems for him to overcome this night.

  Lebel had already begun his ritual of muttering incantations in a foreign language and tossing great handfuls of raw chemicals and crumpled herbs into the large metal bowl. At times, he upended the leather pouch he was holding and dumped its entire contents over the silver coins. The merchant and his three retainers seemed riveted to the process.

  I nudged the Chevalier.

  “When Lebel throws copper powders into the flames for the explosion, how will Blondel easily conceal the switching of bowls this time? Tonight’s bowl is too large and the weight too great.”

  “Fool,” Remy whispered back, “if Jules kept swapping ten silver livre for one Louis, then he would lose money he doesn’t have. No, lad, tonight Jules intends to end up with everything for himself.”

  I contemplated that scenario, while Lebel worked his way up to the final step of the alchemy process. He was reaching into his last leather pouch, and I still hadn’t figured out what Jules had in mind to help him take all. Only Remy seemed to know Jules’s end game.

  “What happens next?” I quickly asked.

  “Watch closely,” replied Remy in my ear. “I have no doubt that in the confusion immediately after the explosion, some of Jules’s confederates will rush in the back door and rob them all.”

  I could scarce hold my astonishment.

  “Jules would rob himself?”

  “Precisely that. To all outside appearances, he is a victim of unknown robbers. That way, Jules can claim to be in the same boat as the merchant, and thus remove all suspicion from himself. Later, he pays off his confederates from the pot of stolen silver and keeps the majority of the coins for his own purse.”

  “What of the merchant?”

  “He has no one to accuse but the band of robbers. And even then, who can he go to for help in pursuing the criminals? Alchemy is against the law, the same as witchcraft.”

  I was still mulling over this new turn in coming events when Lebel flung his last chemical into the flames. I covered my eyes from the pending flash and used only my ears to record the explosion.

  As I opened my eyes again, a band of rough men rushed through the back door, swords and cudgels in hand. Their faces were concealed by wide scarves, yet I swore I recognized one or more of Jules’s assassins by the street clothes they wore and the sound of their voices.

  Jules’s and Blondel’s arms shot up into the air in surrender as they begged for mercy from the bandits. Lebel slumped to the floor and went into his dying act. The merchant’s hired swordsmen were quickly disarmed. It was all as Remy had predicted.

  Then came the unexpected. Another band of men burst through the front doorway with swords and pikes. These men in uniform bore the livery of our Roi Soleil and shouted loudly, “In the name of the King!”

  Having no wish to be captured by our Sun King’s bailiffs, I lurched upright and knocked my head against the low-hanging roof in an attempt to escape. The Chevalier quickly pulled me back down and held me still. Thus, I witnessed the final events in the firelit room.

  Lebel suddenly came alive with a speed to be envied by Lazarus himself and scurried on all fours toward the rear door. He displayed great spirit in his movement, but unfortunately for him, he was still physically within the exit when the mass stampede began and he was trampled by the running feet of robbers all trying to leave through the same portal. Jules and Blondel thrust their own bodies through the tangled mass and disappeared into the darkness. All three hired retainers went intermingled with the band of robbers. Lebel managed to make a second recovery and he too vanished like his blue smoke had earlier. Only the merchant was left behind to be caught.

  One man, whom I presumed to be a Captain of the Guard, bellowed for all to hear. “In the name of the King, I hereby seize all in this room.” He turned to the merchant. “And I arrest you for the crime of alchemy.” The captain motioned toward the front doorway. “Take him.” One of the bailiffs led him away, while others grabbed hold of the gentleman’s washing bowl sitting on the grate, plus all the bags and leather pouches from the broken stone flooring.

  When all were gone and the room was silent again, Remy and I made our way down from our hiding place. As we walked back to our three-walled domicile, he seemed to be in a lighthearted mood, whistling a jaunty tune I’d not heard before. Inside our meager quarters, he even kissed Josette on the cheek and gave her a hearty slap on her behind. I didn’t know what he was so happy about, perhaps it was that Jules got his just deserts.

  I, too, will admit to feeling a certain amount of satisfaction at Jules having not profited from his money scheme, but mostly I was overwhelmed by this night’s events. Remy must have seen the confusion on my face.

  “Speak, boy, what are you thinking?”

  “You predicted tonight’s happenings as if you had seen all of this before, all except the intervention of the King’s men.”

  Remy gave me a strange look before turning away.

  “You are right, boy, I did not predict the sudden appearance of the King’s men to you, and I am certain their entrance also came as a great surprise to Jules and his men.”

  After a few moments of silence, Remy inquired over his shoulder, “What have you learned from tonight?”

  I mulled that over in my mind before answering.

  “Gold in the hand is worth more than all the gold promised to you. If you are not already holding it, then you may never get it, much like the merchant lost everything.”

  “Very good,” replied Remy. “You have learned something.”

  “Which reminds me,” I said. “You promised to pay me for my services tonight, more than Jules promised me.”

  “And so you shall be rewarded.”

  On the very next evening when Remy returned from another business trip into Paris, he handed me two silver livre, a small fortune in my estimation. And for several nights afterward, our food larder seemed to be filled with anything we desired to eat. Wine flowed freely at our supper. Remy now sported a new lavish cape to drape over his shoulders,
and somehow Josette had acquired a colorful dress to replace her old one.

  On my trips into Paris on the next few days to ply my light-fingered trade, I found it slightly odd to hear no gossip in the markets concerning the recent arrest of a rich merchant. But maybe he escaped into the dark on the pathway down from the buttes, because I did hear rumors about a short, richly dressed apparition seen haunting the refuse pits of late. An apparition that vanished into the myriad of tunnels whenever anyone tried to approach.

  The only other thing which gnaws at the back of my mind before I fall asleep at night is related to what bothered me that night as the Chevalier and I climbed the chalk gravel path behind the merchant’s party. It seemed to me that we were being followed at a distance, even as we followed the others. And as to the Sun King’s bailiffs in the ruins, I recognized their livery when they burst into the room, but when I reflect back on that scene, their footwear didn’t appear quite right. Instead of the sturdy leather boots I’d usually seen on bailiffs, these men wore more fancy boots like the Chevalier did. And those were worn down at the heel and elsewhere, as if the owners hadn’t funds to replace them.

  I also wondered who Remy had business with in Paris on the day before and the day after Jules’s moneymaking scheme went awry. Had Remy consorted with other fallen sons of nobility much like himself, men who were also struggling to survive in a cold, heartless world?

  No matter. If I thought long enough, I was sure to figure out all in the end. It’s just that my mind was getting sleepy.

  Copyright © 2010 R. T. Lawton

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  Fiction

  DANCER IN A STORM

  L. A. WILSON, JR.

  Art by Jorge Mascarenhas

  Something woke Memphis up. He couldn’t identify it at first. A stench penetrated his sleep and irritated his senses until he opened his eyes. It was putrid and revolting, stealing into his nostrils like toxic fumes. His eyes snapped open, only to be filled with large brown irises that hovered only a few inches from his face. The foul breath threatened to gag him, but something more terrifying gripped him.