The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  The Dark Secret of Josephine

  ( Roger Brook - 5 )

  Dennis Wheatley

  THE DARK SECRET OF JOSEPHINE

  The Parisian intrigue as a result of which Napoleon received his first great command—that of the Army of Italy—and the devilish scheming of a pirates' "moll' queening it among outlaws of the Spanish Main, may seem worlds apart. Yet in this story of Roger Brook—Mr. Pitt's most daring and resourceful secret agent—they are knit together by a mysterious episode in the early life of the Empress Josephine.

  She was born in Martinique. Mention is made in her own memoirs of her mulatto foster-sister Lucette, and Lucette's brother who later black­mailed her in Paris. They also give an account of her love affair with William de Kay. But how far did it go? It is certainly a fact that her first (or was he her second?) husband, the Vicomte de Beauharnais, endeavoured to rid himself of her on a charge of bigamy.

  It was in far from happy circumstances that Roger first heard of Josephine. He had sailed for the West Indies on pleasure bent, with a party that included three lovely ladies; but in those days the blue Waters of the Caribbean were infested with sea-rovers and, as contemporary accounts record, many a terrible scene of torture, rape and murder was enacted among its palm-fringed islands.

  The "Sugar Isles" were then in the throes of negro slave revolts—resulting from the French Revolution—and the particulars of these are, of course, taken from authoritative histories. So, too, are the glimpses of Paris in 1795, of Napoleon's early life, and of the street fighting on 13th Vendemiaire.

  Once again Dennis Wheatley gives us his fascinating blend of full-blooded romance, swift action and breathless suspense against a back­ground of actual fact; a form of story-telling in which he is the world's acknowledged master.

  THE DARK SECRET OF JOSEPHINE

  by

  DENNIS WHEATLEY

  DEDICATION

  For

  CECIL BLATCH Whose wise counsel and friendship have meant so much to me since I came to live at Lymington, and for

  CECILIA, with my love to you both.

  made amd printed in great britain by morrison and gibb limited; london and edinburgh

  chapter I

  NOW ROBESPIERRE IS DEAD?

  The two men had breakfasted together off Dover soles, beefsteaks weighing a pound each, and cold-house peaches; then as it was a fine August morning, they had taken the decanter of port, out into the garden.

  The host was William Pitt the younger, Prime Minister to King George III; the place, his country home, Holwood House near Hayes in Kent; the guest, Mr. Roger Brook, his most successful secret agent; the year, 1794.

  Although only thirty-five, Mr. Pitt had already guided the destinies of Britain for eleven years. During them he had spared himself nothing in a mighty effort which had brought the nation back from near-bankruptcy to a marvellous prosperity, and for the past eighteen months he had had the added responsibility of directing an unsought war, to wage which the country was hopelessly ill-prepared; so it was not to be wondered at that he looked far older than his age.

  The fair hair that swept back from his high forehead was now turn­ing grey, and below it his narrow face was deeply lined; The penetrating power of his glance alone indicated his swift mind, and his firm mouth his determination to continue shouldering the endless burdens of the high office which he arrogantly believed he had been born to occupy. A chronic shyness made him aloof in manner, and as with the years he had gone less and less into society he had become the more self-opinionated and dictatorial. He had the mental fastidiousness of a scholar and an aristocrat, but this did not extend to his clothes and the grey suit he was wearing gave him a drab appearance.

  By contrast his companion, sheathed in a bright blue coat with gilt buttons, a flowered waistcoat and impeccable fawn riding breeches, appeared an exquisite of the first order; but Roger Brook had always had a fondness for gay attire. At twenty-six he was a fine figure of a man, with slim hips and broad shoulders. His well-proportioned head, prominent nose and firm chin proclaimed his forceful personality. Yet at the moment he looked as though he should have been in bed under the care of a doctor instead of discussing affairs of State with his' master.

  That he, too, even when in normal health, gave the impression of being older than his years was due to his having run away from home at the age of fifteen, rather than follow his father, Rear Admiral Brook, in the Navy, and the hazardous life he had since led. Danger, and the necessity for secrecy, had hardened his naturally sensitive mouth, although it still betrayed his love of laughter and good living; while his bright blue eyes, with their thick brown lashes that had been the envy of many a woman, showed shrewdness as well as mirth. But now those eyes were pouched, and his cheeks sunken, owing to innumerable sleepless nights; for he had only recently escaped from the horrors of the French Revolution, through which he had lived for many months, never knowing from one day to another when he might be betrayed, arrested and sent to the guillotine.

  Although Roger reported to his master only at long intervals, he was regarded by him more as a friend than an employee, and had come to know his habits well. Being aware that the impecunious but incorruptible statesman could not afford a private secretary, and had such a strong aversion to writing letters that he left the greater part of his correspondence unanswered, he had sent no request for an interview. Instead he had risen early and ridden the sixteen miles across country, south of London from his home in Richmond Park; over Wimbledon Common, through orchards, market gardens and the pretty villages of Tooting, Streatham and Bromley. On previous visits to Holwood he had found that Mr. Pitt kept no secrets from such men as his cousin, Lord Granville, who had the Foreign Office,; his colleague, Harry Dundas, or William Wilberforce, Bishop Tomline and the few other intimates whom he entertained in his country home; so he had felt sure that he would be invited to make his report over breakfast, but it had chanced that the great man was alone that morning, and Roger had had his ear without interruption.

  Stretching out a long, bony arm Mr. Pitt lifted the decanter across the iron garden table towards his guest, and remarked: 'The nightmare scenes of which you tell me are scarce believable. Yet that four men should have been needed daily to clean the conduit from the guillotine to the sewer, lest the blood clot in and choke it, provides a practical yard-stick to the enormities committed by these fiends. Thanks be to God that at last they are overthrown, and France can look forward to a restoration of sane government."

  When Roger had filled his glass he shot an uneasy glance above its rim. This was not the first occasion on which he had felt it his duty to endeavour to check the Prime Minister's habitual but often; ill-founded optimism, and he said with marked deliberation:

  "It would be rash to count the Terror fully ended, Sir."

  "Oh come!" Mr. Pitt shrugged his narrow shoulders. "You have just confirmed yourself what others had already told me, of the popu­lace going wild with joy at the sight of Robespierre being carted to execution."

  "Tis true; and all but a handful of the French are now so sickened of the Revolution that they curse the day it started. The state of dread and misery to which all honest folk had been reduced before the recent crisis had to be witnessed to be believed. With everyone! In Paris going in fear of their lives it's not to be wondered at that the fall of the principal tyrant led to an outburst of rejoicing. Yet, even so. ..."

  With an impatient gesture Roger's master cut him short. ‘No government can suppress a whole people indefinitely, and it is evident that an explosion was due to take place. Now that the great majority have so clearly signified their antagonism to the excesses committed in the past, no new set of m
asters will be tolerated unless they conform to the general wish for a return to the protection of life, liberty and property by properly constituted courts of law."

  "I grant you that would be the case here, Sir; but, believe me. it does not apply in France. There the people have no means of removing power from the hands of those who have usurped it, except by a counter-revolution; and all the men capable of organizing a coup d'etat are now either dead, in exile or in prison."

  "You are wrong in that!" Mr. Pitt spoke cheerfully, and took a quick swig at his port "The events of Thermidor were in themselves a counter-revolution."

  Roger shook his head. "If you think that, you have been mis­informed. They were no moves against the political principles by which France has been misgoverned since the Jacobins got the upper hand. It was a purely domestic upheaval in which a group of un­scrupulous demagogues succeeded in seizing the leadership from others of their own party. Those who are gone and those who remain have all subscribed to the extremist policy of the Mountain, and with others of the same kidney have been jockeying among themselves for power for many months past. It began with an intricate three-cornered fight. The Hebertists were the first to succumb. They were the brains behind the sans-culottes, and with their fall the mob became a headless monster. One might have hoped then for better things, but the Terror continued unabated. In April the Dantonists followed them to the scaffold. That may have appeared a setback for more moderate councils, but I assure you that had they triumphed they would have continued to slaughter everyone who attempted to oppose their plundering the nation like a gang of robbers and turning Paris into one vast brothel. There remained the triumvirate of Robespierre, Couthon and St Just None of these so-called 'incorruptibles' was as venal as Danton or as vile as Hubert, yet they used the guillotine more ruthlessly than either. They had to, in order to keep themselves in power. Now they too are gone, but only to be replaced by others all of whom are steeped in innocent blood up to the elbows."

  For a moment Mr. Pitt continued to gaze placidly across the close-cropped sunlit lawn, then he said with an air of reasonableness: "Mr. Brook, the extraordinary position you achieved for yourself enabled you to follow the inner workings of the Revolution so closely that I count you the first authority in England upon it. Yet I believe you to be wrong in your assessment of the future. The necessity you were under to escape from France via Switzerland, followed by your long journey home via the Rhine and the Low Countries, has placed you out of touch with events. You can know little of what has occurred m Paris since you left it towards the end of July, whereas I have had many more recent advices; among them that a strong reaction to the Terror has definitely set in, and that no less than ninety-five of Robespierre's associates have followed him to the scaffold."

  "That is excellent news." Roger smiled; but added the caution: "Yet its true import depends on who they were. Should they have been only the Incorruptibles’ personal hangers-on it means little. If, on the other hand, Billaud-Varennes, Collot d'Herbois, Fouché, Barere, Vadier, Carrier, Fouquier-Tinville, Freron and Tallien were among them, then there are real grounds for your optimism."

  "Fouquier-Tinville has been impeached; but in this connection I recall no other of the names you mention."

  "In that case, Sir, it would be wrong of me to encourage your hopes. When I left, Billaud and Collot had, by opposing Robespierre, retained their seats on the all-powerful Committee of Public Safety. The one superintended the massacres at the prisons in September '92, during which the Princess de Lamballe with scores of other ladies, priests, and nobles were brutally butchered; the other, jointly with Fouché, organized the mitraillades at Lyons, whereby many hundreds of Liberals were destroyed en-masse with grape-shot Tallien, while proconsul at Bordeaux, decimated the upper and middle classes of that city; and last winter, after Admiral Lord Hood was forced to abandon Toulon, Freron turned that port into a blood bath. Carrier, as you must know, has become forever infamous for his mass drown­ings of men, women and children in the Loire. It is said that during four months of his tyranny at Nantes he has slain not less than fifteen thousand people. While such monsters still have the direction of affairs, what possibility can there be of a return to the humanities?"

  A frown creased the Prime Minister's lofty brow, and he said a shade petulantly: "I find your assessment of the situation most dis­appointing, Mr. Brook; particularly as you played no small part yourself in bringing about the downfall of Robespierre. For that all praise is due to you; but you would have risked your head to better purpose had you chosen as your co-conspirators men whose qualities would have made them less likely to follow the policies of their predecessors after the blow had been struck."

  Roger would have been angry had he not known how little his great master understood the involved development of the Revolution. Having with one of his riding gloves, swatted a wasp that was dis­playing interest in his port, he replied with commendable patience: "When I last waited upon you. Sir, at Walmer Castle, it was agreed that I should do what I could to weaken the regime in France by setting her rulers against one another. But this was no case of pitting a few game terriers against a pack of giant rats. I had to deal with a single hydra-headed monster, and all I could do was to induce its heads to attack each other."

  "Very well, then. Tell me now more of the men you picked on to serve your ends. What sort of a fellow is this Barras, who has suddenly become so prominent?"

  "He is a ci-devant Count who has seen military service in India. Last winter as a general at the siege of Toulon he showed considerable ability, and it was there I met him. I chose him because he is ambitious, fearless and a good leader; but he is the most dissolute and un­scrupulous man one could come upon in a long day's march."

  "And Dubois-Crance?'

  "Although a civilian, he too has played a prominent part in directing the revolutionary armies, and instilling some degree of discipline into them. It is to that he probably owes his life, as he is one of the few moderates with a first-class brain who has survived the Terror. His value lay in his ability to rouse the cowardly deputies of the Plain from their lethargy, so that they would support the attack that was to be made on Robespierre in the Convention."

  "He sounds a promising man; but need you have approached an avowed terrorist, like Tallien?"

  "It was essential to include one of the original mob-leaders. Only so could the base of the movement be made broad enough to insure against the sans-culottes rising in defence of the Robespierrists. I chose Tallien for the role because the beautiful aristocrat whom he is said to have married lay in prison under sentence of death, and in joining us lay his one hope of saving her."

  "What of the others who were later drawn in by the three of your own choice?"

  "Unfortunately those who proved most valuable as allies in the plot were all men I would gladly have seen dead. Among them were the despicable Abbé Sieyes, the terrorist Freron, and my own most dangerous enemy Joseph Fouché, who adds to his other crimes the role of the Revolution's high-priest of atheism. The only bond they had in common was the knowledge that if they did not swiftly strike at Robespierre he would have all their heads in the basket before they were a month older. But mutual fear spurred them to sink their differences and pull him down."

  "And you think this godless, blood-stained crew will be able to maintain themselves in power?"

  "There being no opposition worthy of the name, I can see nothing to prevent a number of them doing so. They will, of course, fight among themselves, and some of their heads will fall; but between them they now control the two great Comites, the National Guard, the Army and the vast secret police organization built up during the Terror; so those among them who survive will be able to rule in the same arbitrary fashion as their predecessors."

  'That they might be able to I will grant you, but that they intend to do so I regard as unlikely," the Prime Minister remarked with a sudden display of his dictatorial manner. "You are not up to date with the news, Mr. Brook, or
you would realize that in the past month the French Government has shown a definite change of heart. The iniquitous Law of the 22nd Prairial has been repealed, the Revolu­tionary Tribunal has been reorganized to give it some semblance of a court of justice, and hundreds of prisoners have been released from the Paris jails."

  With a disarming smile Roger replied: "I am most pleased to learn of it, but not at all surprised. I felt confident that once the fanatics had been brought to book a marked decrease in senseless savagery would follow. The new masters are no set of fools, and one could count on their pandering to the reaction so far as they felt that they could win cheap popularity at no risk to themselves. But it would be a great mistake to regard these measures of clemency as a sign of weakness."

  "I said nothing of weakness. I spoke of a change of heart. I am informed that in Paris there is already wide-spread talk of a return to the Constitution of '91, and a restoration of the Monarchy."

  "I pray you, Sir, put no credence in such rumours."

  "Why?" Mr. Pitt refilled his glass and gave the decanter a quick push in Roger's direction. "You say that these people are no fools. Now, then, is the chance for them to show real statesmanship. With the temper of the nation so clearly known they might take the tide at flood and execute a complete volte-face. Did they call off the war and invite the army of the Princes to enter Paris they would be rewarded with fortunes, honours and the gratitude of their fellow countrymen. Consider how much they have to gain by such a move."

  "On the contrary, Sir, they would have all to lose. Every one of them voted for the death of Louis XVI. To them more than most applies the saying 'Put not thy trust in Princes'. Were I in their shoes I would regard signing a pact with their Highnesses, his brothers, as putting my hand to my own death warrant."

  "Your travels have made you cynical, Mr. Brook."

  "Nay, Sir; but ‘a wee bit canny', as my dear mother would have said."