The Templar Detective and the Parisian Adulteress

by J. Robert Kennedy

  “Think about it, this story of the husbands hiring these three men to impregnate their wives is totally reliant upon the trustworthiness of these men. We know the confessions from Lord Gaspard’s wife, and any other confessions that may have been obtained, were most likely the result of threats or torture. They can easily be dismissed. It is the confessions of these three men that introduced this notion, and I for one don’t believe them for a moment. And if their confessions are lies, then it is likely they’ve never even met the wives. I believe if we were to discover the whole truth in this matter, we would find that none of these women have ever had an affair, and that this entire web of lies is designed to discredit their husbands.”

  Denys sighed, his head shaking slowly. “I would agree on all three counts, yet it still doesn’t explain my situation.”

  Marcus chewed his cheek for a moment. “Does Lord Charles have any children?”

  Denys’ eyes widened. “Why, yes, he does. He has a son, of age, who lives in Champagne, I believe.”

  Marcus’ was surprised at the revelation. “I didn’t think Lady Joanne was old enough to have a grown child.”

  “Oh, it isn’t hers. Charles was married before. His wife died of some illness when the boy was about ten, I believe. Charles married Joanne shortly after. I’m afraid the boy was not pleased with the situation. He took the first opportunity to leave. From what I’ve heard, it broke his father’s heart, but did make things at home much easier the past few years.”

  Marcus smiled slightly. “Then there’s your answer.”

  Denys’ eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “Would you say you’re close to Lord Charles?”

  Denys grunted. “Not at all.”

  “Yet you know this story.”

  “The entire Court knows this—” His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Everyone knows the story, so everyone knows he has a male heir. They couldn’t use the same story on him as they did on the others.”

  “Exactly. Someone is trying to draw Lord Charles into the scandal, so he too can be humiliated, though not implicated in the crime of partaking in the impregnation of his wife by another man. He’ll likely be found innocent of any involvement in this scandal, but the damage will have been done.” Marcus frowned. “And as to the others, I fear that things are moving so swiftly, they could be dead before we have a chance to uncover the truth.”

  Simon’s fingers drummed the hilt of his sword. “Then what are we going to do?”

  Marcus thought for a moment. There were questions that needed answering. Who had delivered the note to the chambermaid? Who had he chased that night after the murder of the imposter, Miss Girard? Who had hired the men who had followed them to Thomas Durant’s? Who had killed Lord Victor? Who had hired these three men to sacrifice themselves in a false confession?

  He paused, his eyebrows slowly rising. “Here’s a question. Why would three men turn themselves in, confess to a horrendous crime, knowing they would face certain torture and death?”

  Simon’s eyes widened. “That is a question, isn’t it? We know they have no moral character for taking part in such a thing, so why indeed.”

  “Loyalty.”

  Marcus nodded at Denys. “Exactly. And I can think of only two reasons, and they are loyalty to one’s God, or to one’s master.”

  Simon shook his head. “No man of God would participate in such a thing.”

  Marcus agreed. “Which means they are loyal to their master, and I would be surprised if anyone would display such loyalty to a mere lord or duke. This is the loyalty one shows to king and country.”

  Denys gasped. “King Adolf? I heard you mention him earlier. Why?”

  Marcus regarded Denys for a moment, then took a chance. “Two men followed us last night. We eliminated the threat, and on their person, discovered German groschen coins.”

  Denys’ eyebrows shot up. “That is odd. I can think of no reason why anyone in France would be carrying German currency. It isn’t much evidence however, is it? We can’t exactly march into the Court and accuse the King of Germany of trying to foment war between France and Flanders. And why would he? He’s currently allied with England.”

  Marcus frowned. “I wasn’t aware of that. I’m afraid my knowledge of the affairs of state is limited.”

  Denys’ jaw slowly dropped as something occurred to him. He smiled. “Then you wouldn’t know this! Several months ago, we were briefed that apparently England isn’t happy with their new ally. King Adolf apparently hasn’t lived up to his end of the treaty.”

  Marcus’ head slowly bobbed. “Interesting. So perhaps he hopes to draw England into war with their ally Flanders, against France.”

  Denys excitedly held up a finger. “Yes! And with our problems with the Pope, and with King Adolf’s family so heavily involved with the Holy Roman Empire, he might be hoping to do damage to us as well.” Denys scratched his chin for a moment. “It is a thought, that. If he could end the truce, war would damage all parties, even if one were the victor. He could claim Germany is in no position to help England in their war with France, and thus delay his full implementation of the treaty he has with King Edward of England, and he could curry favor with Rome by drawing France into another expensive venture, thus weakening the Kingdom.”

  Simon grunted. “Yet the entire theory rests upon a handful of coins that could mean nothing. We need more proof.”

  Marcus pursed his lips then turned to Denys. “Is there any way you could get us in to see the prisoners?”

  “Which ones?”

  “The three young men.”

  Denys laughed. “I don’t see how, and I fear making such inquiries could raise suspicions and implicate me even further.”

  Marcus sighed. “True. But—”

  A messenger rushed up on horseback, cutting him off. “Are you Sir Marcus de Rancourt?”

  Marcus nodded. “I am.”

  “I have a message.” A folded paper was handed over, and the messenger disappeared as quickly as he had come.

  “Who’s it from?” asked Simon.

  Marcus unfolded it, his eyes shooting wide open. “David!”

  “How did he find you?”

  Marcus quickly read the letter. “It appears there was trouble, and they were forced to leave Thomas’ residence.”

  Simon grumbled. “Where are they now?”

  “At Lord Charles.”

  “Fools! Don’t they know the risk they’ve put themselves in?”

  Marcus was more forgiving. “They must not have had a choice. David and Jeremy are smarter than that. Come, we must make all haste.” He mounted his horse, turning to Denys. “Sir, I suggest you return to your home and increase your guard. If anyone finds out you are aware of our suspicions, you could be in danger.”

  Denys mounted his horse and nodded. “A wise precaution. But you too must be wary. If King Adolf is involved, those acting on his behalf may have nothing to lose should they fear capture.”

  43

  De Rohan Residence

  Paris, Kingdom of France

  Lady Joanne rushed down the steps to greet the new arrivals, Jeremy and David on her heels, Tanya beating them all, the mastiff eager to see her master once again, jumping at him in excited euphoria, the man equally pleased to see her, giving her several thumping hugs before pointing at the ground. Joanne found it remarkable how the dog obeyed every command given by this knight who had already done so much for her.

  “Thank the Lord you’re okay, Cousin!”

  Marcus bowed deeply, Simon following. “And you, Cousin. When I received word that you were here, I was concerned.” He eyed David. “I’m sure my squire has a good explanation.”

  David gulped. “Well, umm, sir—”

  Jeremy jabbed a finger at Mrs. Thibault. “This one snuck out and had someone fetch her man, here! She nearly got us all killed!”

  Marcus frowned at Thibault, standing at the top of the steps with the brick wall of a doorman they had met earli
er. The fact she seemed unconcerned with what she had done, angered him greatly. “I assume he was followed by someone watching her residence?”

  David nodded. “Yes, sir. We spotted him, made quick work of him and his partner, but decided we couldn’t risk staying in case a third man had gone for reinforcements.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Joanne stepped closer. “Very good thinking. We were pursued the last several miles. Your squires bravely held them off until we were safe.”

  Marcus smiled, slapping both his friends on the back. “I knew I left my cousin in the right hands.”

  David grinned at Jeremy, both exchanging punches on the shoulder. “Told you he wouldn’t be mad.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Marcus took Joanne aside. “Your husband, have you spoken with him?”

  She smiled. “Yes, all is well now. He agrees that the letter contained nothing but lies. We are again on good footing.”

  Marcus nodded. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “And what news do you have? Has there been progress?”

  “Yes, but there’s little time to explain.” He raised his voice so the others could hear. “Three men turned themselves in today, confessing to being the partners of the wives accused in the adultery scandal. But I believe they are lying.” He stared up the steps at Thibault. “And I have a feeling you might be able to help me.”

  A smile revealing the start of several rotting teeth spread as she descended the steps. “I’m always pleased to be of service.”

  “We need to get someone into the prison to talk to these men.”

  “Is that all?”

  “And they must speak German.”

  She tossed her head back, laughing. “You, my good sir, are a most fortunate man. Clearly, the good Lord is on your side, and I’ll also be on it for the right price.”

  He stared at her. “You dare ask for money after what you did?”

  She frowned. “I suppose a little charity never hurts from time to time.”

  “A wise answer.” Marcus dismissed the remuneration discussion with a wave of his hand. “Now, explain to me how I am most fortunate.”

  “I know someone who works in the kitchen at the prison, and I know for a fact that she serves the prisoners their meals.”

  Marcus exchanged a quick smile with Simon. “And she speaks German?”

  “No, this isn’t some perfect world where miracles occur just because you need them to.”

  Marcus frowned. “Then I fail to see how this helps us.”

  “And that’s because you have no experience in business.” She raised a finger, cutting off his response. “I also know a girl who speaks German, and she and her husband just happen to owe me money.”

  “How fortunate for them.”

  Thibault gave him a look. “Do you want my help, or do you want to continue with the insults?”

  Marcus urged her on with a wave of his hand. “I apologize. Continue.”

  “Very well. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll have my girl at the prison fall ill, and my German-speaking girl will show up as her replacement. She will take over the duties, and get in to see your prisoners.”

  Marcus sighed. “It troubles me to no end that I must avail myself of your services, but I see that I have no choice. Arrange it.”

  Thibault scurried away, motioning toward her man. Marcus stepped away from the group, drawing Simon with him. A whispered conversation took place, with Simon’s eyes widening with each sentence spoken. Joanne strained her ears to overhear what was said, yet caught nothing but mumblings.

  “Make all haste, my friend,” was finally heard, and Simon mounted his horse, departing immediately. Marcus rejoined the others, and Joanne approached him, lowering her voice.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He nodded. “Yes, just a small matter I need taken care of. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  Thibault returned with her man. “We must leave at once to make the arrangements.”

  44

  La Conciergerie Prison

  Paris, Kingdom of France

  “You’re new.”

  Claudette kept her eyes directed at the floor, it taking everything she could manage to prevent her hands from shaking at the sight of the guards. “Yes, sir. Sabine has taken ill. I’m filling in for her until she feels better. It shouldn’t be more than a day or two, I’m sure.”

  The guard inspected the cart loaded with the meager offerings for the prisoners, then waved her through. “I don’t know why we bother feeding them. They’re all going to be dead soon enough.”

  Claudette curtsied. “I’m sure I don’t know either.”

  The guard waved at his partner who unlocked the door leading to a long hall, half a dozen cells on either side, the only light provided by sparsely spaced torches.

  She pushed the cart through the door, her hands shaking so badly the contents rattled.

  “Don’t linger too close to the cells. Some of these men haven’t seen a woman in years.”

  This sent the rattling into a frenzy. “Y-yes, sir.”

  She pushed the cart toward the first cell, and nearly peed when the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her alone with men who had nothing to lose. Her heart pounded, her vision blurring, as she wondered if a month’s forgiven interest on her husband’s loan to Mrs. Thibault was worth the risk.

  The sad fact of the matter was that it was, the interest payments taking up almost every bit they managed to earn. It was a hard life, especially as refugees from Germany, their accents dead giveaways that they were foreigners. But life was hard where they had been, and when their lord had taken a liking to her, making it clear she would have to share particular…favors should she and her husband wish to continue working his land, her husband hadn’t hesitated in taking action once she told him what had been said.

  They left.

  But not before he torched the entire homestead.

  They were fugitives, hiding in a city filled with them.

  And Simone Thibault had been there waiting to prey on them from the moment they arrived.

  She pushed the meager offerings through the small hole at the bottom of the first cell, as she had been told to, the kitchen staff relieved that Sabine had sent her own replacement, everyone thankful they wouldn’t have to cover her terrifying duties.

  This Sabine woman had apparently told Thibault which cell had the new arrivals, three men of whom questions needed asking, and as she approached it, she began shaking again. She pushed three servings of bread and cheese through the opening, followed by three cups of water. She leaned closer to the bars, peering into the darkness within, then in perfect German, said, “I’m a friend.”

  “What did you say?”

  She suppressed a smile. The response had been in German, confirming what Thibault had suspected, and guaranteeing the bonus of an extra two-month’s reprieve should she prove successful. “I’m a friend. I was sent on behalf of the King to let you know that you must persevere. Help will be forthcoming.”

  Three shadows approached, revealing themselves to the dim torchlight as they neared the bars. “We are prepared to die for our king. There was no mention of rescue,” said one.

  “Plans have changed, at least that’s what I was told, but there’s a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I went to meet my contact last night, and he had been arrested. Now I don’t have any way of finding out what the final instructions were.”

  “Scheisse! Then we are still doomed.”

  Her heart was hammering, but as she continued, undiscovered, her hands trembled less, and the fear turned into excitement. “Not necessarily. Surely you have contacts on the outside. All I need is to meet with one of them, and they can find out the plan.”

  The man who had been doing the talking stepped closer. “This sounds like a trick.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “I assure you, it isn’t. But if I’m to help you, I must know now, before the
guard becomes suspicious. I may not be able to get in here again, then all will be lost.”

  The three men disappeared into the darkness, and she could hear them conferring. She continued down the cells, feeding the others, then on her way back, paused again where the three men who had confessed to the dastardly scheme were held. The leader stepped forward.

  “We have no choice but to trust you, fräulein. Listen carefully.”

  45

  De Rohan Residence

  Paris, Kingdom of France

  Simone Thibault had been true to her word, one young woman falling mysteriously ill before her afternoon shift in the kitchen, another showing up conveniently to take her place, a woman who had followed her instructions to the letter, and now sat before them, describing everything that had happened in exquisite detail.

  “Thank you for your assistance in this matter. You are very brave.”

  The woman smiled shyly. “The motivation was great.” She glanced at Thibault, who frowned.

  “Yes, yes, three months forgiven.”

  The woman beamed then stood. “May I go now?”

  Marcus rose, as did the others. “Yes, and again, I thank you. I must insist you tell no one of what happened, for your own safety. Not even your husband, if at all possible.”

  “I won’t even tell my priest!”

  Marcus chuckled. “You’ve done nothing wrong, so I’m sure it wouldn’t be necessary.” He motioned toward the door, and made a point of looking at Thibault. “Now, if you two would excuse us, we have private matters to discuss.”

  Thibault didn’t appear pleased, but rose and followed the young woman out the door with her bodyguard Enzo. Simon closed the door, then they all gathered at the table.

  Marcus addressed the group. “I think there can be little doubt now who is behind this.”

  Simon nodded. “Agreed.”

  “The why is also probably settled, though isn’t quite as important. Now the question is how do we prove it?”

  Simon motioned after the departed. “The instructions she discovered for meeting their contact are quite specific, including the time. I think that’s our best course of action.”