I remember feeling very cold and shivering on that ride back from the camp. It was one of the few times in my life when I experienced a premonition, a strong feeling that, when the battle was being fought, I would be there. I had made no actual choice when I left my horse at the stable and returned to the bureau. There the decision was taken out of my hands in a most unexpected way.
Chapter 5
Fouché was standing outside the Ministry, about to climb into his carriage. Lefebvre waited beside him and looked relieved when he saw me.
“Good,” Fouché said. “I sent for you, but Lefebvre thought you weren’t in the building.”
“I have only just returned.”
“Both of you are to come with me.”
We climbed in beside Fouché and the carriage took us to the Tuileries. The palace looked dusty and sounds echoed in the empty corridors. I had an unhappy memory of better days, when we attended balls and receptions there. I was glad Eugénie was far away. Like me, she’d always had mixed feelings about the Emperor, but she enjoyed all the festivities. She would be affected by the sadness of the Tuileries now. I fancied the place was almost holding its breath, waiting, like the rest of us, for what would happen next.
We were shown into the Emperor’s office without waiting, an unusual occurrence.
“Ah, Fouché,” the Emperor said. “You have made your choice.”
Fouché gave him an ironical half bow. In the old days, Napoleon would have spoken sharply to him for the discourtesy, but now his voice remained soft. He walked around the desk to greet us, which was also different from before. He never used to bother with such pleasantries in the old days.
“Duval, Lefebvre, I have work for you to do.” We both bowed to him and he smiled. “Fouché has discovered yet another plot against my life.”
I nodded. Plots were commonplace enough. They had always been so, from the very beginning of his reign, and were likely to become even more frequent in the current uneasy situation.
“We don’t have many details this time,” Fouché said, coming forward. “Our informer was knifed and only lived a short time. Long enough to say a few words to his doctor. The informer told him that someone in the Maison Militaire intends to kill the Emperor before he can take over the command of the army. The informer described the assassin as an officer, dark haired and young.”
“Not much to go on,” I murmured. “Before the Emperor takes command, he said?” I was thinking aloud. “Then the assassin expects to travel with you on this journey, Sire. He is someone you trust, but who has kept his real loyalties secret.”
“The description eliminates some, but not by any means all, of the people who travel with me.” Napoleon said. “I am leaving Paris tomorrow. My enemies are gathering in the north and I expect to meet them outside Brussels. You will both accompany me, as members of my household, to find this man before he can act. If asked, I shall say that you are writers, working on a history of my return and the coming campaign. I will give orders that you are to be allowed access to me at all times and that my staff must answer any questions you ask them.”
“Sire? Surely your guards can protect you. This threat may not be real, after all,” I protested, though I should have known better. “Do you really need us?”
Napoleon smiled but his smile was sour. “Many of my guards are now suspect. By definition, they are soldiers; some of them are young and dark haired, like this assassin. They will be accompanying me on my journey. I cannot concern myself with issues other than the campaign itself. I need someone from outside, with fresh eyes, someone I can trust. Both of you have always been loyal to me. You have been successful against traitors who tried to kill me before. The Duc agrees.”
I looked sharply at Fouché, who nodded. “I trust you to foil this plot against the Emperor’s life.” His words had an odd undertone, but I was given no time to analyse them further. However, I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
“Then Sire, we must question the doctor who heard this informer and also find out more about the man himself. Who he was and where he spent his time may narrow down the field of suspects. The Maison Militaire is large and time is short.”
A swift glance passed between the Emperor and Fouché.
“I thought you would ask.” Fouché pulled out a folded paper from his pocket. “This is the information on both these men.”
“Thank you, Monseigneur.”
Napoleon was also holding out a piece of paper. “Here is your authorisation to proceed on this business. Speak to anyone, act as you think fit and, if someone questions you, refer them to me.”
“Thank you, Sire.” We bowed to him.
“Be here at dawn,” the emperor said, “and do not discuss this affair with anyone else. The coming campaign is of vital importance to France. This plot may fail or may even be the figment of a disordered imagination.” He dismissed us both.
“Why us?” Lefebvre asked when we were alone.
“Fouché expects us to foil this plot,” I said blandly.
“Or he wants us out of the way while he’s up to his old tricks,” Lefebvre muttered. Lefebvre’s never had a good opinion of our boss, who changes his allegiance as often as he changes his coat.
“What could we do to stop him if he betrays Napoleon yet again?”
“Nothing, I suppose, except carry the tale of his treachery to the Emperor.” Lefebvre shrugged.
“Napoleon knows what he’s like and is sure to take precautions. Anyway he’s got more important things to worry about, as he said – several armies marching against him for a start. The next battle will decide who will rule the country, the Emperor or the King. Even Fouché has to wait for its outcome to be sure he’s on the winning side.”
Lefebvre shrugged. “Not our responsibility, in any case, which is good. We can’t be blamed for anything that happens if we’re away from Paris. Where do we start?”
“By finding the doctor and information about the informer. We’ve only got the rest of today to do so, if the Emperor expects us to travel with him tomorrow.”
“Whether we can protect him from a bullet in the back while he’s travelling is debatable.”
“We might not be able to, but with help, we’ll make sure he isn’t shot at as he gets into his carriage. He’s safe enough inside. None of the people with him fits the description.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Visiting our old friend, Sergeant Joffre.”
He hooted with laughter. Joffre was anything but our friend. We’d crossed swords on more than one occasion.
“I’d stake my life he’s loyal to the Emperor,” Lefebvre said. “A squad of soldiers surrounding the little man when he gets into or leaves his carriage will hinder anyone from taking a shot at him.”
I laughed. Joffre was one of the Old Guard and his troopers were the tallest in the army. They would tower over Napoleon.
“Well thought of.”
“Shall I arrange it then?”
“Do so and then go and find out what you can about our informer. I’ll talk to the doctor.”
“Where will I meet you?”
“At Bourienne’s this evening. We can compare notes then.”
I went to the address Fouché had given me. A decent apartment stretched over the first and second floors of what was once the townhouse of one of the nobles. A manservant answered my knock.
“The doctor isn’t here, Monsieur,” he said. “He’s gone to visit a patient, but I expect him back shortly. Would you like to come in and wait for him?”
I thought rapidly, but in the end I agreed. I could use the time to write a list of all the things I had to do before we left Paris. So I asked the servant for paper and a pen. He showed me into what was obviously the doctor’s waiting room. I scribbled for some time before I heard the door open and a tall well-dressed man entered the room. I rose and we shook hands.
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting,” he said. “I am Docteur Gi
ron. How can I help you?”
I gave him the Emperor’s authorisation. “I need you to remember everything you can about the incident with Moses David,” I told him.
“I have been expecting you,” he said. “Let us go into my study where we can be more private and Jules shall bring us some refreshment.”
We settled into comfortable chairs with a glass of red wine. The doctor ordered Jules to close the door carefully. We were not to be disturbed and any callers should be shown into the waiting room.
“Now, Monsieur le Docteur, what can you tell me?” I asked.
“I’ve known Moses David and his family for many years, ever since I came to live and work in this part of the city. I had been treating him for a malady of his chest, which made it difficult for him to breathe when the weather was very cold.”
“What age of a man was he?”
“In his fifties.”
“An invalid?”
“Occasionally, but he was well enough to conduct his business most of the time.”
“What was his business?”
“He was a moneylender, a rather well-known one, with many clients from all ranks in society.”
“I understand. What happened on the morning he met his death? Where were you, for a start?”
“I was here, treating another patient. Jules came in to tell me that Nathan, one of Monsieur David’s sons, was here in great distress. He needed me to come to his father at once. I dismissed my patient and was collecting my bag, when Nathan himself burst in. ‘Come quick, Docteur,’ he said. ‘My father is dying.’ ‘I examined your father three days ago,’ I replied. ‘He was well enough then.’ ‘It’s not his chest,’ Nathan said. ‘He’s been stabbed.’ We hurried down the stairs and across the road. The Davids live only two streets away.
“When I got to their shop I realised that Nathan was right. Moses was lying on his back, with his head on his wife’s knee. His daughter held a kerchief over his wound, trying to staunch the blood, but not very successfully. I knelt beside him and lifted the cloth. I saw immediately that there was nothing I could do. The gash was too deep and he had lost too much blood. I put the cloth back and held it there, then I saw that his eyes had opened. He stared at me and was struggling to speak. Sarah, his wife, begged him to save his strength, but I said ‘Let him speak,’ so she did so.”
“What did he say? Try to remember the exact words if you can, it may be very important.”
“Not many to remember, sadly. He said, ‘Tell the Emperor…an officer is going to kill him.’ Then he fell silent and I thought he was going when he opened his eyes again and struggled to speak. ‘In the Maison Militaire.’ ‘What is his name?’ I asked. He shook his head. ‘Can you describe him?’ ‘Young…dark haired.’ ‘How did you meet him?’ ‘Needed money.’ ‘Why do you think he wanted to kill the Emperor?’ ‘Said I would get my money back when the King returned. He would very soon, he said, once an obstacle had been removed.’”
I started. This was new information and gave a motive for the attempt; one among so many possible reasons.
“What happened next?”
“At that moment Sarah sobbed. His eyes turned to her and he murmured a few words in his own language which I did not understand. He did not have time for more.”
“You can remember anything else?”
“No, I am sorry.”
I nodded. “Then I must speak to Madame David and her children. He may have spoken before you got there. Can you furnish me with their direction?”
“Jules shall take you there and introduce you to them.”
Madame David was a small, sallow faced woman, whose face bore traces of tears. What I did not expect was to find her in Lefebvre’s arms.
“What on earth..?”
“Sarah is an old friend,” Lefebvre said. “Her father and I did business together before she married Moses David.” He pulled a face at me and I knew better than to ask what business. Anything Lefebvre did in the old days was likely to be suspect.
“Madame David, I am sorry for your loss,” I said. “Has Jean explained why we are bothering you at such a time?”
“Not yet,” Lefebvre said. “There are more than one family named David in Paris and I wasn’t sure until just now that I had found the right one. I’m as surprised to see Sarah as she is to see me. Her father never mentioned his son-in-law’s name. Come and sit down, Sarah. Perhaps your daughter will be kind enough to bring you a glass of wine? Then we can talk together.”
The wine seemed to revive Sarah David. She sat with her daughter’s arm about her shoulders and told us what happened.
“Oh Jean, it was so awful. This young man came into the shop and poor Moses took him into the storeroom in the back. I was tidying one of the drawers and my daughter, Ruth, was sweeping up, when we heard them raise their voices. I went to see what it was all about. I opened the door and heard the young man cry out ‘You’ve cheated me you crook!’ He seemed to push Moses away from him. He sprang out and brushed me aside. I fell against the counter and onto the floor. Then he ran out of the shop into the street.”
“I went to help Ima, Monsieur. I did not see him hurt Abba or I would have tried to stop him,” Ruth said with a catch in her voice.
“What did he mean when he accused your husband of cheating, Sarah?” Lefebvre asked gently.
“I have no idea. Moses never cheated a man in his life.”
“Did Moses say anything?”
“No. When I got my breath back, I ran to him. At first I thought he had been winded from his fall, like I was. Then I saw the blood!” Sarah put her hands over her face and began to cry bitterly.
“Please, you must stop,” Ruth said. “Don’t you realise how much this is upsetting my mother?”
“I’m sorry,” I told her, “but we must continue if we are to find the man who killed your father and perhaps prevent another murder.”
Madame David is a strong woman. When she heard these words, she stopped crying and mopped her eyes.
“Catch this scelerat, Jean, and you Monsieur. What else can I tell you?”
“Had you ever seen this man before?”
Sarah shook her head but Ruth said,
“But yes, Ima, he came here before.”
“You have seen him?” Sarah stared at her daughter.
“Yes. I was in the shop when he arrived the first time. Nathan was there too and saw him.”
Lefebvre looked at me and asked, “Will you ask your brother to come here, Ruth, please?”
Nathan arrived, a tall gangling young man, very unsure of himself. I asked them both, “How long ago was it that this man came here?”
They looked at each other and then Nathan spoke for them both,
“A few weeks, perhaps as many as six or eight.”
“April?”
“It must have been. It was just after Passover, is that right?” he asked his sister. She nodded.
“Did you hear what he wanted?”
I didn’t expect them to answer but Nathan surprised me. “I think he wanted enough money to buy a good rifle.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Sarah exclaimed in surprise. “Abba would never discuss a client’s private business with any of us.”
“After the man left, Abba locked away something small in his safe. Then he went to visit Monsieur Massart who makes the best rifles in the city. I had an errand in the same direction and walked with him part of the way. I was returning when I saw Abba in the distance coming out of Monsieur Massart’s workshop. He didn’t see me, so I just followed him home. We never talked about it, of course. Ima is right; Abba never discussed a client’s business. I did not think any more about it until now, but what else would Abba be doing there? He’d only go if a client wanted a good rifle and needed someone to buy it for him. He never liked Massart.”
“That may be true,” Sarah said thoughtfully. “Massart does not like Jews. He’s well known for it.”
“Was there anything to distinguish this
man? Anything at all?”
Brother and sister looked at each other and shrugged. Then Ruth said,
“He was good looking, that’s all I remember.”
“Would either of you recognise him if you saw him again?”
“I’m not sure.” Ruth crinkled up her nose as if she was trying to remember. “I only caught that glimpse of him when he was leaving the shop and Abba whisked him away the first time. What about you, Nathan? You were in the shop all the time when he was here before.”
“I’m not sure either,” Nathan said, “but I might. I did get a good look at him but whether I could pick him out? He didn’t have an unusual face or a scar or anything.”
Lefebvre looked at me. “It’s worth a try.”
“Sarah,” he said to her gently. “Where is your other son, Ruben?”
Sarah gulped. “He went to find out about burying poor Moses.”
“Alain and I want to take Nathan to see if he recognises the man who killed his father. Will you let him come with us?”
“How long will he be away?”
“If we can find the man before tomorrow, he can return right away. If not, we are leaving for Brussels at first light and it could be some days before he can leave.”
“He would miss Moses’ funeral!”
“Wouldn’t it be worth it, Ima, to catch Abba’s murderer?” Nathan turned to us. “I’m ready to come with you, Messieurs. Abba would understand and forgive me if I cannot be there. Ruben and Ruth can run the business and look after Ima, if she will let me go.”
Sarah stared at her son for a long moment and I thought she was going to refuse. Then she put out her arms to him and hugged him.
“You are right. Abba would understand and this man may kill again. I want no other family to feel our grief. If you can help to catch him, you have my blessing.”
Nathan kissed her and said,
“Thank you, Ima.” Then he turned to us. “Give me a few moments to gather some things in case I am away for a time and then I will come with you.”
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