“An officer, not an ordinary soldier,” he mused. “Napoleon’s only got a handful of Marshals left. Most of them stayed on their estates and ignored his summons to join him for this campaign. Those who are here are too old and, if the Emperor falls, they’d fall with him. Not in their best interests to kill him. The same is true for the generals. So we are looking for a dark haired young man from a Royalist family, an officer and part of the headquarters staff. A colonel, a lieutenant or a captain perhaps?”
“He may have concealed his Royalist connections. I would in his position. Otherwise I agree with you, but there will be others we have not thought of yet.”
“So all we have to do is make a list of the people who fit all the criteria and check them out one by one. Shouldn’t take us more than a few minutes to find the pig.”
I laughed. “If only it were that easy.”
“I’ll help you,” Fournier offered. “You two get to bed now or you’ll be good for nothing in the morning. I can sleep tomorrow, while you’re travelling. I’ll be back before you have to go.”
“Thank you, old friend.”
Fournier was as good as his word and was sitting drinking coffee when Berthe roused us.
“That’s what you want,” he said, pointing to a folded piece of paper covered with his spidery writing. “It isn’t complete, of course, and everything is confused right now but it’s the best I could do in the time.”
I took the paper while he continued, “Most of the Maison are too old to be our assassin. That includes the generals and the aides de camp, Corbineau, Gourgand, Bedoyere, Bertrand, Dejean and Flahaut, but they all have assistants and orderlies. The orderly officers and messengers have the best chance of all. They’re on the move and no one pays them much attention. They’re also told the Emperor’s movements in advance. One of them could easily ride ahead and find a good place to shoot him from.”
“Where did you get this information?” I asked, casting my eye over the list which was formidably long.
“A lot of it was in the Ministry, if you know where to look. We’ve checked on enough of these people in the past. I’ve put a cross beside those who were in our files and they meet some but not all of your criteria. Others I got from an old contact of mine. I did him a favour many years ago and he’s never forgotten. What he doesn’t know about the army isn’t worth knowing.”
“Sounds useful. Who is he?”
“His name’s Rousseau. He’s a sergeant in the Chasseurs of the Old Guard and devoted to the Emperor.” He must have seen the question on my face because he said hurriedly, “No, he’s no relation to the writer. Don’t ask him about it, if you want him to help you. He despises the man.”
“I won’t.”
“If you do need his help, tell him I sent you. I said you might. If you’re with the Emperor, he won’t be far away. I hoped I’d find him and I was lucky. He’s off to the frontier but he spared me an hour for old times’ sake.”
“Thank you, Fournier. Neither of us could have done better.”
“Take care of yourself, Alain, and you too, Jean. Come back with a whole skin if you can but if you can’t, come back anyway.”
We rounded up Nathan, who was looking remarkably sleepy and sent him to fetch the horses. Then Lefebvre and I hugged Fournier and kissed Berthe. It never occurred to me that we might never see them again; we had gone off on so many assignments in the past. I never thought that this one would be different.
Chapter 6
We arrived at the Tuileries before the first light of dawn drew a faint line across the night sky. It was very early, about two am, an ungodly hour and cold. I was shivering in spite of my riding coat. Nathan, who did not have one, was wrapped in a blanket Fournier found for him before we left. Lefebvre was clapping his hands and stamping his feet in an effort to get warm. You would think it was February not June.
One of the sentries disputed our right to pass through the palace gates but, when he saw Napoleon’s authorisation, he stepped back and saluted. We joined a milling throng in the courtyard, all waiting for the Emperor to appear.
“I’m thinking of resigning, mon brave. This is killing me,” Lefebvre said.
“Courage. It’ll be warmer when we’re moving,” I replied.
“We’ve had too many of these dawns. About time we stayed in our warm beds like decent folk.”
“You’ll never be decent, you rogue,” I said, “if you live to be a hundred.”
He laughed and Nathan managed a lopsided grin.
“I’ve been thinking, though.”
“Too early for thinking.”
“Shut up and listen. There are a couple of things we can do to make out task simpler.”
“Such as?”
“When we see the Emperor, I’ll ask him to dismiss as many of his younger officers as possible. If he sends them back to their regiments, it will cut down the numbers we need to check on.”
“And the other thing is?”
“One of us must stay beside him at all times and watch for anything odd, until he reaches the army. We don’t have time to be fancy about it and run a proper investigation. The main thing is to keep him safe.”
“Ugh, but what’s the betting he won’t let us?”
“I wouldn’t take you, old friend, but he might.”
At that moment, Napoleon stamped down the stairs to his waiting carriage.
“I’m going to speak to him now,” I said, tossing my reins to Nathan. I went up to the carriage door and bowed.
“So you’re here as ordered, Duval,” he greeted me.
“Yes, Sire, as you see, but I have some questions to ask you.”
“You can ask them as we travel. Get in.”
He didn’t wait for me to answer, just climbed into the carriage. I waved to Lefebvre and Nathan and then joined him. His brother, Jérôme, was already seated inside and so was his valet. Once the Emperor was settled, the carriage started with a jerk and proceeded at its usual breakneck speed.
“Ask your questions now,” Napoleon said to me.
“First I must tell you what we have done since we left you, Sire. I spoke to both the doctor and the witnesses to the killing of the informer. We brought one of these witnesses with us in the hope he can identify the assassin. We have also made a list of the Maison Militaire and identified those people who match the informer’s description.”
Napoleon nodded. “Quick work.”
“There are many on the list and time is short,” I continued. “Our main purpose is to keep you safe, rather than catch the murderer, although we hope to achieve both. Sending a number of these young men back to their regiments would increase our chance of finding the assassin, before he can do you harm. With luck, the traitor may even be among those sent away and his plot come to nothing.”
“Is someone trying to kill you, brother?” King Jérôme asked.
“Yet another one, but at least we have had some warning this time,” Napoleon said. “What you say makes sense, but I have an army to run and a campaign to prepare. I cannot dismiss many of my staff. Changing my plans because of a threat will damage my communications. The assassin would have gained a victory, even if he does me no other harm.”
“I understand that, Sire, but it is imperative for you to survive. We need you to fight this campaign and secure the borders of France. Surely there are a few young officers in the Maison Militaire who can be dismissed and replaced by others? Also, if the younger men are kept away from you, it would eliminate some of the risk.”
“The traitor is one of the Maison Militaire?” Jérôme sounded shocked.
“That is what makes this plot more dangerous than some of the others. I have little time for such things, which is why Duval and Lefebvre are travelling with us.” He turned back to me. “I will think about what you have asked. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, Sire. The assassin tried to purchase a well-made rifle, using the informer as a go-between. He did not succeed, but even an ordinary gun can k
ill and we think this is the method he may try to employ. When you are riding in this carriage, you are safe from snipers. A marksman would have to be incredibly lucky to see you through the window and shoot accurately enough, while you are moving at speed. The chief danger is when you embark or disembark.”
Again the Emperor nodded. “I agree. What do you propose I do about it?”
“I would suggest that, when you leave or enter the carriage, you are surrounded by a group of tall soldiers. That would make it difficult for the assassin to see you well enough to be certain of his shot.”
The Emperor laughed. “Then it is just as well I’m not tall. Tell the captain of my guard to organise it.”
“I will, Sire. Also, will you allow Lefebvre or me to keep a watch on you for the next few days?”
The Emperor smiled. “I wish you joy of it. I work long hours and travel hard, but you can stay with me for all except the most secret discussions.” He held up his hand to stop me, when I would have spoken. “Those talks take place with the marshals and generals and there is no room for outsiders, not even trusted ones. Few of the marshals and generals are young. They have often been with me in situations where it would have been easy for them to kill me. I will give orders that one of you will be with me at all other times.” He laughed suddenly. “Pretend to be taking notes of everything I say. It will match your disguise as writers and, if the plot fails and I win this campaign, you may even find that your writing is valuable.”
With that he started talking to his brother about army dispositions. At the next halt to change horses, I got out of the carriage and waited until Lefebvre came up, leading my horse by the reins. It was a little while until he arrived, for Nathan was no horseman. He would undoubtedly have fallen off, if they had tried to keep up with the carriage. While I waited, I searched out the officer in charge of the Emperor’s guard. I arranged with him to have his men surround Napoleon, when he alighted from his carriage. His was inclined to dispute the order at first.
“Sergeant Joffre was talking to me about the same sort of nonsense yesterday. I’ll tell you what I told him. We always take good care of the Emperor.”
He quickly changed his mind, though, when I told him about the potential threat and the consequences if the assassin succeeded.
“It shall be done,” he said at last and went away to make belated arrangements.
When Lefebvre arrived, Nathan almost tumbled off his horse. It was obvious he was in some distress. His legs were shaking.
“He’ll never make it to Brussels,” Lefebvre muttered to me. “We’ll be lucky to get him to the next halt.”
“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 a
re 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.”
Duval at Waterloo (Napoleon's Police Book 15) Page 7