Napoleon's Police

by Michele McGrath

  “Brandy’s what you need.”

  Berthe put a brandy glass into my hand.

  “Take off his boots, while I make up a bed,” she ordered.

  “I wouldn’t.” I tried to wave Fournier away. “I changed clothes at Arras but the coach was full of chickens and onions. I stink!”

  “I can smell you!” We both laughed and it was as if a great blanket of worry lifted from my shoulders. It had been so long since I laughed freely with friends.

  Fournier stripped me and brought me water to wash. I didn’t make a good job of it; I was too tired and sore from the jolting of the coach. Then he led me into their son’s room. He was away with the army and they had no idea if he was coming back, I learned later. At this moment I did not ask. I fell full length onto the bed and was asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.

  They told me that I slept like the dead for a night and a day, waking next evening. Fournier had been to my old lodgings, where I had lived for a short time after I returned to Paris. He retrieved the few belongings I left behind when I had ridden out with the Emperor.

  “Berthe has washed the clothes you wore but they’re not dry,” he told me. “A bit posh for you, aren’t they?”

  “Don’t forget I’m a respected member of the medical profession now.”

  He gave a huge guffaw. “Well, you’re not treating me, I can tell you.”

  The garments hung on me. I had lost so much weight in the days I had been struggling to get back to Paris. Even at Evrard’s house, I had not been able to finish my meal.

  “Heavens,” Berthe said when she saw me. “What have you been eating? Turnips?”

  “Too early in the season for turnips. Vegetables, when I could find any and food from some of the people who helped me along the way.”

  “Then we must feed you up. You can’t go home to Eugénie like that. You’ll scare her out of her wits.”

  I only managed to eat a small portion of Berthe’s potage however. My stomach had shrunk so much that the good stew was too rich for me. I pushed my plate away half eaten.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  “For what? Being starved?” She gave me some bread and a glass of watered wine. “Claude wants to talk to you, so he doesn’t want you knocked out like last night. We thought you’d never wake up.”

  “I needed it. It’s not easy to sleep in a ditch, listening for sounds that might threaten you. The only decent sleep I had was in Arras and I got up at dawn.”

  “Tell us about it.”

  We sat by the fire and I told my good friends all the things that had happened to me since I left them. At one point Fournier asked,

  “Lefebvre?”

  I shook my head and found it hard to keep the sudden tears from showing. “Dead.”

  “In the battle?”

  “No, before it, before Ligny.”

  “How? If you don’t want to talk about it, we understand but we liked him too.”

  I forced a grin. “He died a hero.”

  “That’s very unlike him.”

  I smiled. “He said that, just before he died. He was chasing the assassin who tried to murder the Emperor and there was a struggle. He got a knife in his guts and bled to death. Nothing I could do to save him.”

  “My God, the poor man.” Berthe put her hand to her mouth. “What becomes of Lucienne now that her father’s dead?”

  “I’ll take care of her,” I said. I had thought about Lefebvre and Lucienne a lot on the long journey to Paris and I had made some decisions. “She told me, when we went home to Grenoble, that she wanted to come with us, but Lefebvre wouldn’t leave here.”

  “Probably didn’t want to be dependant on you, mon brave, when you were going into the unknown.”

  “I offered him a job, but he told me to take over Papa’s firm first, then he’d decide. I knew he would never come.”

  “So you’re going to take Lucienne back with you?”

  “If she still wants to come. If she doesn’t, she can stay at school, until I can find her a job and somewhere to live. Lefebvre won’t leave her much.”

  “I always thought he was rich!” Fournier looked startled.

  “He was once, but he had expensive tastes and police pay doesn’t go far.”

  “Too true.”

  “How did he get his money in the first place? I’ve always wondered,” Fournier asked.

  I smiled. “No harm in telling you now, I suppose. Do you remember a thief we once called Maître Chagrin?”

  “Of course. I remember his escape and how livid Petit was not to get the reward for his capture. Wait a moment – you’re not saying that Maître Chagrin was Lefebvre?”

  I nodded. “The very same.”

  “And you both kept it quiet all these years?”

  “He’d have gone to the guillotine if it had slipped out and I owed him my life, then and several times since.”

  We continued to talk until I began to droop in my seat, about Lefebvre, my journey, the King, the Emperor and the current state of the country.

  “Why don’t you come home with me also? The Police won’t be a healthy place for you to work any more and who knows what will happen in Paris. Grenoble’s far enough from the capital to be away from prying eyes and nearer the border, if any of us has to leave France in a hurry.”

  Fournier and Berthe looked at each other. “Gilles wouldn’t be able to find us…” Berthe stopped. Gilles was their son. He had marched out with the other volunteers to defend France and no news had been heard of him since. They didn’t even know which division his group had been attached to or whether he had fought in any of the battles and skirmishes that had taken place. “Perhaps he is making his way home to us at this very moment. We need to be here when he comes.” She turned away to hide her face and then left us abruptly.

  “She’s feeling it badly,” Fournier said. “When we heard your tap on the door…”

  “You thought it was him,” I finished.

  “We wanted all of you, Gilles, yourself and Lefebvre. At least one of you came and we can hope that Gilles will follow you. But, Alain...?”

  “Yes?”

  “If Gilles hasn’t arrived by Christmas and the situation here deteriorates…”

  “Come to me then. Don’t ask, pack and get on the next diligence. There’s room for all of you. When Gilles comes home, bring him with you.”

  Fournier nodded. “I may take you up on that offer.”

  “Do.”

  I was feeling much better the next morning and decided to visit Madame David. It was a duty I would have to perform before I left Paris. If I did not do it at once, it would be hanging over me like the quivering blade of the guillotine. Even the fineness of the day did not lift my spirits. I walked along, trying to find the words to tell her that her son was dead and so was her old friend, Lefebvre. No words would give her any comfort, of course, and, in the end, she reacted far better than I feared.

  “I knew,” she said, leaning back into her daughter’s arms. “When he left, I wondered if he would come back to us. Lefebvre too. What a waste, what a shame.”

  “I am sorry for your loss, Madame, so soon after your husband’s death. It is little comfort, I know, but at least their murderer has been caught and executed.”

  Madame David acted with dignity. She was naturally grief-striken but she thanked me for coming to tell her and for burying Nathan. I gave her other son, Ruben, a paper with the directions to Nathan’s grave.

  “You may wish to go there, once things have settled down and travel is easier,” I told him. “A Jewish soldier said some words over him, but the man was not a priest. I don’t know if what he said was enough for a proper burial according to your customs.”

  “Thank you,” Ruben said. “I will do whatever needs to be done. We are grateful for your kindness in a difficult situation.”

  “Will your mother be able to manage with both your father and brother gone?”

  “We will, we have to. May Go
d guide you on your way, shalom.”

  So I left them, deeply thankful to have one unpleasant task completed. The following day, I hired a horse and rode out to the school where Lucienne was boarding, on the outskirts of Paris.

  I thought of Lefebvre on that ride, one we had often taken together. I had been with him on the last two occasions. The next to last time we had been there, he had been in good spirits. One of our cases had just finished and we both fancied a drive into the country. Lefebvre’s pockets were full of bonbons and strange packages, intended for Lucienne and her friends. Lefebvre chose the school because he wanted Lucienne away from the sights and smells of the city. Her health had never been robust, but she thrived in her new environment. He had almost ceased to worry about her. We had a good day, walking in the sunshine, chatting, making jokes and taking coffee with the head teacher, Madame Archambault. She was a nice woman and it was easy to see why Lucienne liked her. A couple of the other teachers acted in a stiff and formal manner but Madame Archambault was pleasant and sensible.

  Our last visit had been different. Times had changed. The Emperor had been exiled to Elba, the King was on the throne and neither Lefebvre nor myself were in good standing in the Police. Indeed, we both expected to be dismissed or even sent to prison on an invented charge, if some of our enemies had their way. Laurent, in particular, was itching to find an excuse to do so. Lefebvre asked me to come with him, because he wanted to tell Lucienne what to do if such an event occurred. He asked me to take care of her if he could not. I had already made arrangements to get my wife and children out of Paris. I was contemplating resigning and making my way back to Grenoble, out of sight of the authorities.

  When our situation was explained to her, Lucienne was horrified to find out that her father might be in danger. She urged him to leave Paris at once. Lefebvre did not want to, of course, and there was a heated argument between them. Lefebvre tried to carry the whole thing off with a high hand, insisting that he was only being careful, in case something unexpected happened. He swore that nothing bad would occur and he would come back again soon.

  Lucienne did not seem convinced though, so I had a quiet word with her before we left. I said that, although I agreed with her father, if trouble came, she was to contact Eugénie who would know what to do. I wrote down our details and also Fournier’s, in case she needed them. I told her to keep the paper close by her, but not to dwell on troubles that might never come to pass. We were safe for the present and we intended to stay so. She is a sensible child but Lefebvre had kept her ignorant of his past and the work he did. I used to tell him this was not wise but he would not listen to me. He insisted that he did not want her to be worried.

  That was the last time Lefebvre saw her, and, despite their disagreement, they parted amicably enough. Now I was in the unhappy situation of having to tell her that her father was dead and I was leaving Paris immediately. It would come as a terrible shock to her. I hoped she would choose to come with me. If not, there would be problems, because she had no living relatives.

  Lucienne was one of the older girls in the school and would have to leave soon in any case. I tried to think of alternatives on the ride out, but very few occurred to me and none of them satisfactory. An apprenticeship where she could live in, would be best but I did not know if she had any skills or would like such a scheme.

  Lucienne was really pleased to see me. She flew into the room and hugged me.

  “But where is Papa?” she asked, looking for him.

  “Lucienne, I have something to tell you,” I replied, taking her hand and leading her to a chair.

  “I’m sorry…” I did not have to tell her. She interrupted me.

  “He’s dead isn’t he?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  Her eyes filled with tears but she stared right at me and I felt my own eyes watering in sympathy.

  “How did he die?”

  “He chased a man who would have killed the Emperor. He caught him and, in the struggle, he was stabbed. He lived long enough to send his love to you.”

  “He’s been in a hundred fights, why didn’t he win this time?”

  “I can’t tell you. I didn’t reach them in time to pull the assassin off him. He had already received his wound when I got there. Your father died a hero, Lucienne, if it is any comfort to you.”

  “It’s not, what a pointless way to lose your life. The Emperor’s gone, the King’s back and Papa died for nothing.” Lucienne put her hands to her face and started to cry. I held her in my arms until her sobs ceased.

  “He agreed with you. He never intended to die a hero’s death, but he did so none the less. He was a brave man, whatever the cause,” I said.

  “Is he still lying there where he died?” I could see the horror on her face.

  “No, I buried him. One day I will take you to the spot, so you can see for yourself and say a prayer for him.”

  She was quiet for a little while, gazing out of the window, her face blank. Then I said, “Lucienne?”

  She turned to me. “Yes?”

  “You know your father asked me to look after you if anything happened to him?”

  “I remember, but you told me nothing would happen to him.” It was an accusation and it stung. I said the only thing I could,

  “I’m sorry, I was wrong, I wish I weren’t.”

  She nodded

  “Neither of us can bring him back. He is gone and now we must decide what to do next. Time is short because I cannot linger in Paris or I might be arrested.”

  “Arrested? Why?” She raised her watery eyes to mine.

  “After your father’s death, I rejoined the army and fought with my old regiment in the battle at Mont Saint Jean, which the English are calling Waterloo. I have only just managed to return to Paris. It’s not a safe place for a former soldier and a police agent at the moment. I have several enemies who would be only too happy to send me to a prison camp. I must leave here as soon as I can.”

  “What are you saying to me?”

  “I am going back to Grenoble, once I have made some arrangements for you. Eugénie and the children remained there when I left. I would like you to come home with me.”

  “Leave school, you mean?”

  “You would have to leave soon in any case. If you don’t want to come with me, I will find a place for you to stay and find you work. What would you like to do?”

  “I’ve never thought about it. It’s so sudden. I’m happy here.”

  “Think about it now.”

  She stared at me again, her eyes widening. “I always thought that, when I left school, I would look after Papa. We’d find a little house or an apartment somewhere and just be together. Now Papa is dead and I’ll never see him again.” Her face crinkled as if she would cry again, then, with an effort, she straightened her features. “Thank you for your offer. It’s kind of you.”

  “You need not thank me. I owe your father my life many times over. But tell me, will you come with me or stay here until I can find a job and a lodging for you?” I tried to keep my voice neutral, I did not want to rush her or put pressure on her but I had so little time. If I was imprisoned, there was only Lefebvre’s friend Jacques Martin left to look after her. Martin and I have never been close friends.

  Lucienne walked over to the window and then turned and faced me, her face white and determined.

  “Although I would like to stay here, you are right, I must leave school soon. I’m the next to oldest here and Marie is going to be married next month. I asked Madame if I could be a teacher. She told me that she would like me to help her, but she cannot afford to pay me. No new pupils have enrolled for some time, because everything is so unsettled.” She took a deep breath. “If I ask you to remain here, you will be in danger. If I come with you, I would have time to decide what I want to do and you would be free to help me.” She smiled a tearful smile. “Also I have no right to keep you away from Eugénie and the children.”

  “Don’t fret about that, I
have written to them and they will know by now why I have not come home. I can give you a couple of days to make your decision…”

  “No need. If I can’t be with Papa, then I would rather be with you, Alain. It is what Papa wanted, after all and perhaps I can help Eugénie to look after the children. I would like that.”

  I breathed a great sigh of relief. “Then it’s settled. I will ask Madame Archambault to have most of your things packed and sent by the carrier. Bring only what you need for three or four days. I will come back for you the day after tomorrow, when I have sorted out your father’s affairs.”

  “Do I need to do anything about that?”

  “No, I will attend to it and contact you if necessary. Just be ready to travel when I come for you.”

  I kissed her on the forehead and went to explain to the Headmistress what was happening. She smiled and said she thought it was for the best. She would have everything ready and we agreed I would call on Friday to take Lucienne away.

  Chapter 14

  We sorted out Lefebvre’s affairs far more quickly than I expected. I paid his landlord and packed up such things as I thought Lucienne might wish to have. The rest I gave away. There were plenty of old soldiers around who needed them. Then I visited Lefebvre’s old friend, the apothecary Jacques Martin, who owned a shop on the Rue de Lille. I once helped Martin to rescue Lefebvre from prison and the guillotine. We saw each other infrequently over the years. We remained distant acquaintances; our temperaments were too different for anything closer to develop between us. Our friendship with Lefebvre was the only thing we shared. Martin occasionally gave us information which helped us with our cases. Lefebvre had managed all his business dealings through him for years. The man was shocked when I told him the news.

  “You’re sure?” He sat down hurriedly.

  “Quite sure. I buried him myself.”

  “Dear God, poor Jean.” He sat silently for a moment with his hand over his eyes and then he got up from the chair and said, “Wait there.”

  He went into the room at the back of the shop and I could hear him rustling. When he returned, he carried a strong-box.