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Napoleon's Police

Page 30

by Michele McGrath


  Chapter 13

  10 Frimaire, Year XIII

  (Saturday, December 1, 1804)

  I looked out of the window which was still wide open. The garden seemed quiet and I saw no sign of Lefebvre. I hesitated for a second, weighing up my options. None of them were pleasant. I could not stay where I was. If I chanced the corridor to go back the way we came, I was likely to be discovered with the house now alert. I realised that, like it or not, I would have to attempt the climb. Even if I was seen, I’d have a better chance to break free outside the house. I decided to try. I cursed silently as I swung my leg over the windowsill and took a firm grip. I let myself hang down as far as possible while I groped for a foothold with my sound leg. Before I was able to find one, I was sweating with fear and completely unnerved. So I was intensely relieved when I finally stepped onto a branch that did not sag under my weight. The rough stems gave me good holds for my hands and feet, once I started to climb. I inched myself down the plant, rustling far more than I liked. My lame leg hampered me. I took far longer than I would have done as a boy. I was about half way to the ground when I heard a commotion at the side of the house. Servants came running into the garden. I froze close to the ivy, turning my face away so they should not spot my white skin in the gloom. Then lanterns flashed and noises suggested that people were beating the bushes for the intruder. That was no way to search the scene of a crime. Their trampling was destroying any evidence that had been left behind. Lefebvre at least, was well away and unlikely to be taken now. I only wished I was with him.

  There were several searchers, but they found nothing and eventually they left by the gate out into the street or went back into the house. Not once had any of them looked above their heads. If I had not hesitated and had climbed further down by the time they arrived I would have been spotted instantly. My fingers had locked onto the ivy branches so tightly that I had to pry them loose, one by one. My lame leg was shaking and my descent into the garden was an undignified sprawl. I fell the last metre and rolled over and over on the grass, just missing a small wall that scraped my hand but did me very little damage. It might easily have knocked me out and then I would be at the mercy of the household when they returned. Fortune had indeed favoured me that night. All the activity seemed to be now on the other side of the hôtel. Once I had got my breath again, I managed to get to my hands and knees. I was starting to rise when I heard movement from the direction of the garden gate. Someone was coming towards me. I forced myself to my feet and groped for my sword which was still bucked around my waist. I had got it partly drawn when a hand griped me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “It’s me, Lefebvre! Who did you think it would be?” he hissed.

  “Thank God!” I didn’t tell him, but he was the last one that I expected. He should have been long gone and I had been thankful for his escape. “I thought you’d be far away by now.”

  “When you didn’t follow and I saw them searching, I gave them something to find.”

  “Not the crown,” I asked in horror.

  “Of course not, imbécile. A ruse, that’s all. They’re off running like a pack of hounds in the wrong direction. I realised you hadn’t been taken from the noise. Otherwise they’d be roaring with delight. So I doubled back. Are you hurt?”

  “Winded and a bit shaken, that’s all.”

  “Come on then, we’ve got to get away from here. They won’t be fooled for much longer.”

  We left by the garden gate and hurried through the back alleys of Paris. We did not slacken pace until we were some distance from Élisa’s hôtel. Then eventually we came out onto one of the larger streets, the Rue de la Loi. It was full of people who had obviously just come from one of the plays because they were discussing the performance. To hurry here would make us conspicuous, so we slowed down and tried to seem as if we, too, were theatre-goers slowly going home.

  “Have you got it safe?” I murmured to Lefebvre.

  “What do you take me for?”

  “In your bag?”

  “No. I’m not as careless about pickpockets as all that.”

  “Good.”

  “What next, Soldier?” Lefebvre asked me.

  “Take it back to where it belongs as soon as possible.” I replied. “We must put it into the Emperor’s hands before anything happens to it again.”

  “The palace then?”

  “We’re near enough, but be on your guard. Élisa suggested waylaying us before we get there. She wants to give it to her brother herself.”

  “Better for her if she does.”

  “Not for us though and I’m damned if I’ll let her take the credit after what we’ve gone through.”

  “Does she know who stole it from her?”

  “No but she knows my face and that I was searching for it. If there’s trouble, you run and I’ll try to keep them occupied. Make sure Napoléon gets the crown.”

  “What about you?”

  “I doubt they’ll kill me. They’ll abandon me soon enough when they find out I haven’t got it. This isn’t a request, it’s an order. Will you obey me for once?”

  “D’accord,” he answered. He did not like it but he has never let me down when I have asked him to do something.

  We walked quickly through the dark streets, keeping in the shadows. It was one of the most terrifying journeys of my life, knowing what we carried and what might happen if we were assaulted by thieves who roam at night. I gripped my sword tight, and this time I would not hesitate to draw it. We came out of the alleys within about a kilometre of our destination. It should have been easy to reach the palace from there, but in fact we were only just beginning the most exciting part of our night’s adventures.

  It started with Lefebvre saying softly,

  “Don’t look behind you, Soldier, but we are being followed.”

  I stiffened but kept walking forwards, listening as hard as I could and trying to look out of the corner of my eyes without turning my head.

  “Who are they?”

  “Six men, one wearing a sword.”

  “How do you…” I started to say but Lefebvre interrupted me.

  “They turned when we did, crossed the road after us and stopped when we stopped. I’m not wrong about something like this.”

  “I know you’re not.” I thought for a moment. “Do you recognise them?”

  “No.”

  “Why should they follow us? We don’t look like the sort of people to interest thieves.”

  “That’s what made me suspicious. They can see you’re armed, so you aren’t a soft touch. Most pickpockets choose easy pickings. I’d like to know why these men are interested in us.”

  “Wait a moment.” I stopped and stood looking into the window of one of the small shops along the side of the Palais de l’Égalité. I pretended to point out something inside to Lefebvre. The glass reflected the view behind my back and my sudden move had caught our followers by surprise. They did not stop in time. I caught a glimpse of them and gasped.

  “What?”

  “The majordomo from Élisa’s hôtel. I’d swear it’s the same man. Come on.” We turned and strolled on our way, trying hard to give the impression that we were merely idlers out for a stroll.

  “He must think we stole the crown. He knew we were searching for something which had gone missing.”

  “Possibly, but he also knows we were from the Police. We’re unlikely thieves.”

  “His orders are more likely to be to bring anyone he recognises back to be questioned. I wouldn’t tell servants more than I needed to and Élisa mentioned some story about a pearl necklet.”

  “What shall we do now?”

  “They won’t challenge us here, too much light and too many people. We’ll separate as we agreed just before we get out of the Palais de l’Égalité. You take the damn thing back to the Emperor. This man knows my face better than yours. As soon as we part, double back across the gardens. Hopefully they won’t expect that, so you should be able to reach th
e palace. When we get to the alleyway up ahead, I’ll draw their attention and give you a chance to escape.”

  “That’ll be dangerous, Soldier.”

  “Perhaps but I can’t run fast enough. One of us has to go, so it has to be you.”

  “Take care.”

  “I’ll do the best I can,” I said with a grimace, knowing I’d be lucky to escape with a beating if several of them caught me. If only one or two did, I had a chance to overcome them. “We’re almost there. Get ready. I’ll yell and lead them out of the arcade. Hide yourself in the crowd. Take these with you.” Shielding my actions from our pursuers, I pulled the Emperor’s authorisation out of my sleeve and put it and my purse into Lefebvre’s hand.

  “What this?” he asked startled.

  “You’ll need the letter. The purse is my excuse for making them chase me,” I said.

  At the end of the palace arcade, a narrow street ran down to the river. It had several alleys leading behind some tall houses. As we came near the exit from the gardens, Lefebvre asked,

  “Now?”

  “Now!”

  He strolled sideways into a group of people. I hung back and shouted, “Stop thief!” I turned to my left down one of the small passages that led into the Rue de la Loi. I started to run as fast as I could. Startled people parted to let me go. I pounded through the crowd, ducking under arms and around those who had not been fast enough to get out of my way. The smooth pavement ceased and the cobbles began, making it much harder to keep my balance. I am not sure exactly where I went as I twisted through the streets. I had the satisfaction of hearing several footsteps running after me. It was not long though before my pursuers caught up with me. Someone snatched at my arm and dragged me into an alleyway.

  “Let me go, he’s getting away! He’s got my purse,” I shouted with as much desperation as I could put into my voice. My breath was whistling through my teeth and my lame leg was shaking, but I tried to pull away as if I wanted to continue the chase.

  “I don’t see anyone.”

  “He’s down there I tell you! Ahead of me!”

  “Who?”

  “A lad who robbed me.”

  “Go and see,” someone said and footsteps hurried away. “More likely you’re a thief yourself.”

  Rough hands pushed me up against a wall, banging my head so the world darkened for an instant. Other hands searched me. Bodies pressed against me, some with foul breath. I tried to count them. Three were with me. Where were the others? I tried not to fight or squirm. I had nothing to hide from them and hoped to keep them occupied while Lefebvre escaped. Eventually they stopped.

  “Naught on him.”

  A man came back down the alley to where I was standing. He must have run ahead in search of my imaginary thief.

  “No one’s gone that way. This fellow’s lied.”

  “I haven’t,” I protested. “He took my purse. Search me again. You won’t find it on me. A skinny lad. I felt his hand and then he ran off. If you hadn’t stopped me, I’d have had him, damn you all to hell.”

  “We’re wasting time,” another voice said and there was authority in his tone. “He’s not got it. Who was the fellow with him?”

  “Don’t know but Bonnet and Morel followed him.”

  Something swung up in the darkness. I caught its flicker against the stars and started to duck. Then I had a pain in my head and dirt choked my mouth and nose. I could hardly breathe. I pushed myself away from the filth and sneezed. I thought the top of my head was coming off. Arms seized me and I was pulled to my feet. Something wet was spilled on my front and I smelled raw spirits.

  “He’s a friend who has drunk too much and we’re taking him home. Go and find a hack.”

  I was in no shape to resist and anyway it was better to be in the lighted streets than in a dark alley where murder might happen more easily. I let the hands guide me, while I concentrated on the pain in my head, which seemed to get worse rather than better with every step. I had no will of my own. I could not have run away nor fought. I just wanted to lie down and sleep. When we reached the lights of the torches though, I squinted at the faces of the men who had attacked me. I almost gasped as I recognised another of them. The majordomo was there but so was Saint Vincent, the equerry who the Emperor was apparently searching for. He must have been in Élisa’s when Baciocchi arrived and discovered the crown was gone. He looked murderous. I wondered why he had allowed me to come out of the encounter relatively unscathed. He said something to one of the servants holding me. Suddenly a dagger pricked me in the ribs.

  “This way.” I was led towards a rank of hackneys, having little choice in the matter. The three of us climbed into the nearest carriage and Saint Victor followed. At that point I thought about throwing myself through the far door of the coach. Saint Victor must have read my mind. The knife pricked harder and I felt a small steak of blood snake down my side. I sat down carefully.

  “The Hôtel Baciocchi,” Saint Victor ordered and the carriage started with a jerk.

  Once we were moving, said, “Take his sword off him.”

  One of the lackeys unbuckled my sword belt and handed it to him.

  “You are interfering with an officer of the law,” I murmured, in a shaky voice.

  “Your word against mine and all these witnesses. I say you are a thief who should be treated as a thief.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “To find the item you took from my mistress’s boudoir. You will tell me where it is.”

  “What item? I have never been in the Princess’s bedroom. What a thought!”

  “You lie,” one of the other fellows said. “There is a piece of ivy caught under your collar and I saw you going out of the garden gate, you and another man. I was too far away to stop you but I followed.”

  “Where is the fellow who was with you?” Saint Victor asked, and the knife pricked again. I could not help myself squirming away from the point.

  “How should I know? I parted from him at the Palais de l’Égalité, as you must have seen for yourself.”

  “If you don’t know where he is, you know where he is going,” Saint Victor said softly. “And make no mistake, you will tell me everything.”

  He said no more for several minutes and I wondered whether Lefebvre had yet had time to take our prize to the Emperor. While Saint Victor was concerning himself with me, I hoped Lefebvre would have his chance unmolested.

  The carriage came to a stop and I got down with the rest. Saint Victor and his dagger never leaving my side. I was taken into the hôtel and found myself in a small room on the main floor, towards the back of the house. Saint Victor’s men followed us in.

  “Take off his coat and tie him to that chair,” Saint Victor ordered.

  I was thrust into a chair with wooden arms and tied fast.

  “You know what I need,” he said when his men had finished. “I don’t have time for niceties. Tell me or I will make you.”

  I am not a brave man and at that moment I could see no way that I would come out of the situation with a whole skin. Yet my temper had risen and I had no intention of making his job easy.

  “Why should I?” I asked. “I have seen your faces and I can betray you to the Emperor. You cannot afford to let me live. Why should I tell you anything?”

  “Tell me and your death will be swift. We are both soldiers and have faced death before. The longer you hold out, the more pain you will experience before the end.” Saint Victor bent forward and drew his knife lightly down the side of my cheek. It stung and a trickle of blood ran down my face.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” I said and he frowned. He hit me with the back of his hand, knocking the chair backwards and me with it. The room darkened as my head collided with something hard. I dimly felt blows on my arms and my legs, or at least I thought they did. Certainly I awoke with a scream as someone’s boot connected with the wound in my side. Then I wished I hadn’t. Saint Victor and his men clustered around me, punchin
g as hard as they could. I had no chance to avoid them for I was still tied up and flat on my back. Eventually I was hauled upright.

  “Had enough?” Saint Victor asked. I wondered how long this had all taken and whether Lefebvre had managed to take the crown to the palace. Surely by now he must have done. Did I want to prolong this or get it over with? It is never pleasant to be beaten, but I have had worse in my life before, twice in the army and once in the Police. Saint Victor might have been a soldier but he did not know how to fight. My former sergeant would have murdered him. If I weakened and gave them what they wanted, my usefulness would be over and they would certainly kill me. For a second Eugénie’s beautiful face hovered in front of my eyes. If I died, she would be a widow but I was not dead yet. Although my lips were swollen, I twisted them into a grin and murmured,

  “No.”

  “Go and fetch a whip and a hot poker,” Saint Vincent ordered and two of the men surrounding me left the room. Nothing more happened for a few moments. I lay still, trying to prepare myself for whatever they would do to me next, which would undoubtedly be extremely nasty.

  Suddenly pistol shots rang out. Both Saint Vincent and the majordomo dropped writhing to the floor.

  “Hold, if you value your life,” said a familiar voice.

  I twisted my head to see Lefebvre with one leg over the sill, another man was grinning behind him. In seconds they were both in the room. A heavy table was jammed against the door, so the people in the hall who had heard the shot could not get in. My bonds were cut. The unknown manhandled me out of the window while Lefebvre tied up the two injured men. He cast a dismissive eye over them.

  “They’ll live,” he announced. “My aim must be getting worse.”

  Everything happened so fast that no one had yet thought to run round to the outside of the house. When they did, we were shadows in the distance. Both Lefebvre and his friend kept their arms around me and were virtually carrying me along. Left alone, I doubt I would have gone far. We weaved our way through the backstreets until Lefebvre stopped and pulled me into a malodorous doorway. We climbed a flight of stairs with difficulty and he banged on a door.

 

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