“Whereas it’s quite all right if we do so covertly?”
Lefebvre grinned. “Of course.”
Chapter 12
10 Frimaire, Year XIII
(Saturday, December 1, 1804)
It was the middle of the night before the house became quiet and most of the lights had been extinguished. Lefebvre prowled around the place several times before he decided on his method of entry, a small window opening into an alleyway at the side of the hôtel. Apparently he had managed to find out from Margot the layout of the inside of the house and the location of the principal rooms.
“Both the Prince and the Princess have small suites on the first floor,” he told me. “The Princess’s overlooks the garden, such as it is. There is a gate into the street and the wall is covered in creeper, a good way of escape if necessary.”
“Let’s hope to God we don’t need to use it,” I said fervently. “I’d be caught for sure.”
“Courage, mon brave. I always look for a means of getting away but I’ve never had to use it yet.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he confirmed with a nod. “With luck the window will serve us both ways, in and out. From the cobwebs, nobody’s used it for years. It’ll be a tight squeeze for you though, since Eugénie’s been feeding you too well.” His teeth shone in the torch light from the street as he grinned. I cuffed him for his cheek.
I was shivering but not just from the December chill as Lefebvre worked his magic on our behalf. He has not forgotten any of the skills that once made him the best thief in Paris. He unlatched the window easily enough although it took both of us to force it open. The wood gave a shriek and we both froze, ready to run in case someone had overheard. No one came to investigate. After a minute or two, Lefebvre put his leg into the room and wriggled through the opening. He’d warned me not to follow him immediately. He wanted to make sure everything was quiet. He would give me a signal. The moments before he came back for me were not the pleasantest of my life, although I have known worse, usually on a battlefield. Eventually I saw his hand waving to me and I squeezed through the window after him. He was right. It was a struggle, so it is fortunate indeed that neither of us is really fat, despite his slur on me. Fournier would never have forced his way through at all, no matter how much he pushed and shoved.
The room I climbed into was black and smelled musty. I pulled out my tinderbox and struck a spark. For an instant I got a glimpse of a small storeroom with shelves and sacks tossed on the floor.
“Put that away,” Lefebvre hissed. “Do you want to start a fire? Use your hands!”
I guessed rather than saw him open the door, for suddenly the air smelled fresher.
“Hold onto my coat and step carefully,” he ordered. “We’ll creep along the walls. Easier not to trip that way.”
I did as he asked and he led me down a short corridor and up a small flight of stairs.
“Wait here while I find out what’s ahead.”
He was not gone long which was just as well because my nerves were jangling and my ears were strained for the slightest sound. All I heard was the scurrying of a mouse going about its proper business.
“Come on,” he whispered at last. “There’s no one stirring; they’re all in bed.” Unsurprising really since the servants had to be up early to prepare everything for the coronation festivities the day after tomorrow. They would want to watch the procession, which would begin almost at dawn, so they would have to work furiously in order to be free.
The place was dark and still. We crept down the corridors as quickly as we could given the fact we were trying to make no noise. Lefebvre had made me tie a soft piece of skin over my shoes to muffle my footsteps and he wore laced overshoes of the same material.
“A secret of the trade,” he told me when he gave them to me. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
Lefebvre had found out the location of Élisa’s secret place, which apparently was no secret to the servants. It had not even been necessary to bribe Margot. Élisa is not easy to work for and seems not to inspire loyalty.
“Why would I bribe her? She succumbed to my charm of course,” Lefebvre protested when I asked him how he had obtained the information. Lefebvre led me up the main staircase towards the back of the house. His information proved to be true and we were very soon outside the Princess’s bedroom. When he turned the handle, the door opened. The room had no lock, as he had been told.
He eased inside and we stood still, listening hard. Everything was silent, save for the soft breathing of the occupant. It had the rhythm of someone fast asleep. If I was ever asked, I would be able to vouch for the fact that the lady did not snore. A subtle perfume hung in the air and I had to stifle an untimely desire to sneeze. We crept forward in the gloom, testing each footstep before we took it, in case a floorboard creaked. I dreaded the thought that I might knock against some stool or knickknack but Lefebvre made no mistake. I kept my hand on his shoulder as I walked behind him. It was almost as if he was able to see in the dark, like a cat. Then he halted. The soft sounds became louder and the white draperies of a bed stood out against the darkness of the walls. I strained my eyes to make out the outline of the figure lying there. Then Lefebvre moved on and perforce I followed him.
A small alcove was set back from the main room. It seemed to contain a few items of furniture.
“What now?” I breathed in his ear.
“The writing desk.” He ran his hands across its back, pressing hard. A click echoed in the silence and both of us whipped round to the figure in the bed, but the pattern of her breathing did not falter. He left me there and moved away, to unlatch the window, his way of escape. I prayed that we would not have to use it. I eased open the desk and very carefully felt inside. Part of the panelling had opened outwards. I slipped my hand inside and I heard a soft tinkle as I felt something shift. I closed my fingers round it and drew out a heavy metal object that shimmered in the faint light. I ran the fingers of my other hand over it but the shape was unmistakable. It was a diadem or crown. I was triumphant and terrified at the same time. We had found what we were searching for. Now would we be able to get away with it undetected?
I hardly breathed as I shut the lid carefully and tiptoed over to him.
Lefebvre took the crown from my hand, swathed it a bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then we both froze. There were sounds in the corridor, footsteps coming in our direction. Their owner did not walk quietly or slowly. It sounded like a man’s heavy booted feet, rather than the soft shuffle of a woman in slippers. Whoever he was, he was in a hurry.
I gripped Lefebvre’s arm. “We can’t get out that way if he comes in here,” I whispered, aware of the panic in my voice.
“The ivy looks strong enough to hold us, I’ll go first,” he replied. The figure in the bed was beginning to stir. She must have been disturbed by our whispers or by the sounds outside. Lefebvre slung his leg over the window frame and climbed out into the night. The dry leaves rustled with his movements. I waited, giving him time to get clear in case the creeper could not bear the weight of two of us at the same time. Then the footsteps paused outside the room and the door flew back with a crash. The woman in the bed shot upright with a startled cry. I had a second or two to conceal myself behind some draperies before the light of a branch of candles flickered over the room. Then the door was kicked shut and a man advanced towards the bed.
“What have you done, you little fool?” His voice was furious, but he was obviously trying not to be overheard by anyone outside. He hissed rather than shouted his words at her. The bed creaked as Élisa raised herself from the pillows. I put my eye to the slit in the curtains. The angry figure of Félix Baciocchi, Élisa’s husband, loomed over her, shaking a fist in her face.
“What do you mean?” her voice was shaky with the shock of her abrupt awakening.
“You may have ruined us all with this latest little trick of yours.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Didn’t
they tell you I’m not well? Please leave me alone. You’re making my head throb with your shouting.”
“You’ll be lucky if you keep it on your shoulders after this,” he slammed the branch of candles down onto the floor. “Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“Don’t play the innocent with me, lady, I understand you far too well. Where is the Empress’s crown?”
“With the Emperor, I presume. Where else should it be?”
“No, it isn’t. He told us so tonight. After dinner he called all the family together privately. Joséphine’s crown vanished after you and your sisters visited the workshop where it was being made. He as good as accused you, Caroline or Pauline of being the culprit and he ordered us to bring it to him immediately. So where is it?”
“I don’t know where it is, I tell you. Why would any of us do such an awful thing?”
“To make Joséphine look like a fool. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? There’s no love lost between you all but you’ve miscalculated this time. He’s furious. He’ll have the crown back one way or another and woe betide the culprit if he does.”
“Why me? Why not one of the others?”
“Because I know the way your mind works. You stick together, you Bonapartes. If one of you took it, all of you would know about it and where it is now. Murat and Borghese have gone to search their homes, but no sane person would leave anything secret or valuable at Pauline’s. Her house is like a brothel. Caroline was at the reception tonight and she went as white as a ghost once the Emperor started to rant. He pushed his nose right into her face and demanded to know where the crown was. I thought he was going to hit her. She did too and she hid behind Murat, who said that he would take her home immediately. If it was hidden there, he promised to bring it straight back. Then your brother turned to me.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He told me I’d married a fool, for all everyone thinks you’re so clever. Then he ordered me back here to search the place. He gave us three hours. If the crown isn’t found in that time, he’s going to send in Fouché’s men, backed by a troop of dragoons. He’s serious. If you don’t want this house torn apart, tell me where the damned thing is.”
“I haven’t got it I tell you. I know nothing about it.” Through a small gap in the drapes I could see Élisa shrinking back against the head of her bed, away from his fury. He had seized her shoulders and was shaking her none too gently.
“Good God, woman, are you mad? Do you really want to be exiled or go to prison? If you do, you’ll go alone.”
“He wouldn’t do that.” The voice was alarmed but had an undercurrent of confidence in it. Any trace of sleepiness had gone.
“Oh yes he would. You haven’t been with him tonight. He’s not just angry, he’s vicious. You’ve never seen him like that, but I have once before and I never want to see him that way again. That’s why I always take care not to provoke him. So would you if you’d any sense, sister or not. Let me remind you, you’re not even the one he likes best. He means Joséphine to be crowned tomorrow. Believe me, all of you will be very sorry indeed if she isn’t. He won’t have any pity on you if you humiliate both of them on the most important day of their lives. You’ll be lucky if he lets you leave the country with just the clothes on your back. Is that what you want?”
“I don’t want that bitch to be crowned.”
“Crowned or uncrowned, she’s his wife. You won’t make him get rid of her this way, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re driving him into her arms. I used to believe you were the clever one, so don’t be such a fool. He’s the Emperor. He wants heirs. Joséphine hasn’t given him any yet, but she’s two children of her own. He’s never had a child that he can be certain is his; for all that he has enough mistresses. He doesn’t know if it’s Joséphine’s fault or his. Until he’s sure it’s hers, he’ll never divorce her. He loves her in his own way. If he could have a son of his own, though, he’d prove he was not the one to blame. How long do you think he’d stay with her then?”
Élisa was sobbing now, but she looked up at that, an arrested look on her face. Baciocci tightened his grip on her shoulders. I saw his knuckles turn white.
“Perhaps one of the equerries took it. They were in the workshop with us.”
“If either of them did, they’d have handed it over to one of you if they valued their skins. What’s in it for them? Not money. They would have no chance of that if they stayed in France. They don’t share your hatred and envy of Joséphine, so why should they keep their mouths shut? They’re neither brave nor foolhardy. Fouché’s men have arrested Dupre already this evening and they’re searching for Saint Victor now. Once the Police start questioning them, they’ll talk. With time so short, no one is likely to be too fussy in their methods. As soon as one of them starts talking, he’s unlikely to stop. They won’t protect you, they’ll be too eager to make the pain go away. So I ask you again, have you got the crown?”
Élisa’s face changed. It became even whiter and she was crying bitterly now. Her shoulders were shaking. She seemed suddenly to have shrunk.
“Yes,” she murmured.
“Where is it?” he demanded. “In the bureau?”
“In the secret drawer.”
He’d flung himself onto the bed while he was talking to her. Now he got up and came over to the desk, so near me that I could have reached out my hand and touched him. I froze and held my breath, lest he should hear a sound or perceive a slight billow in the draperies.
He put his hand around the back of the desk. Thank heavens there was a click, despite the compartment being already open. I had not shut it in case the noise gave us away. Baciocchi did not know that of course and obviously assumed he had opened it.
“It’s not there,” he said harshly, whirling around to stare at his wife.
“What do you mean, it’s not there?” Élisa shrieked. “It has to be there!” She flung back the bedclothes and stumbled over to him.
“Look for yourself.” He stood back, picked up the candles and held them so she could see the empty hole. She put her hand inside and scrabbled around in it. Then she turned to him, what little colour she still possessed draining from her face. She looked as if she was going to faint.
“I’ve been robbed!” she screamed. “It was here! Before I went to sleep, I checked to make sure. I swear to you that I did.”
“Keep your voice down! You’re not even bright enough to carry through a plot properly,” he said disgustedly. Baciocchi moved away to peer through the window into the garden below.
“Did you open this window?” he asked.
“Of course not, it’s December!”
Baciocchi leaned out of the casement, holding the candles below him. They flickered in the slight wind and I prayed they might go out but they did not. After a moment or two he straightened up and turned to look at her.
“Someone’s been here and that’s how he left,” he told her. “There’re a couple of broken branches on the ivy, too high up to be anything else.”
“But how? Who? No one knows about this hidden drawer apart from us and my sisters.”
“If you let Pauline into the secret, it’ll be all over Paris by now,” he said tartly.
“I’ve never been out of this room except to see the Police. Caroline stayed here while I was gone. How could anyone come and take it without me seeing him? I’d have heard him too.”
“Obviously not. Is anything else missing?”
A flurried movement as she scurried across the room, out of the glow of the candles. A door opened and I heard the noise of more scrabbling. Then she came back.
“No, all my jewels are here.”
“So whoever robbed you only wanted the crown. Not a sneak thief, but somebody who knew exactly where to search and what to look for.”
“One of the servants perhaps?”
“Are we recruiting them from the madhouse now? Nobody with any sanity would touch anything like that. Someone made h
is way into this room, took the crown and climbed down the ivy without waking you. None of our clumsy oafs possess that sort of skill. Who exactly knew you had the wretched thing?”
“Caroline, Pauline, Dupré and Saint Victor. But Dupré does not know about the secret drawer.”
“Are you telling me that Pauline actually does?”
Élisa made no answer and I imagined her hiding her face from Baciocchi’s fury. I wasn’t able to see her properly at that point.
“My father told me I should beat you regularly once I married you. He was right.” Baciocchi gave an exasperated sigh and turned on his heel.
“Where are you going?” she cried.
“To find the cursed thing before it’s too late! You’d better pray I do, lady, if you want to survive this night with your property intact. Get dressed or Fouché’s men will pluck you out of your bed in your nightgown.”
“Wait. I’ll come with you. We’ll rouse the servants, tell them an intruder has stolen my pearl necklet and let them search the garden and the surrounding streets. You’ll never find the crown on your own. Whoever took it will bring it straight to the Emperor. If we waylay him and take it back, we can present it to Napoléon ourselves. Then, at least, he may forgive us. The more people searching the better.”
“Hurry then; forget about the niceties of your toilette for once. I won’t wait while you titivate yourself!”
There was the sound of furious movements as Élisa dressed herself any which way and ran out into the corridor after him. I waited, listening. Most of the house seemed to be awake by now, judging from the sounds. One of the servants was nearby and he asked Baciocchi what was the matter. Baciocchi told him the story that had been agreed. None of them saw me. There were more important things to do than to linger in a room which had already been robbed. They had no idea that one of the thieves was still lurking there. I wondered what I had done right in my life to deserve such good luck.
Footsteps hurried away down the corridor. After they left, silence descended once more. I moved to the window and looked out. All I had to do now was make my escape before they could come into the garden and start searching. I hoped I could do so fast enough.
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