The Châtelet Apprentice

by Jean-FranCois Parot

  The suspects and the witnesses began to arrive one after the other, and were then put into separate rooms so they could not communicate with each other. Six o’clock sounded on the nearby bell tower. The sound of brisk footsteps on the stairs heralded Monsieur de Sartine’s arrival, punctual as ever. He beckoned Nicolas to follow him into his office. No sooner had he got inside the room than he rushed over to the great fireplace and started to poke the fire furiously. The young man waited calmly until this ritual was over.

  ‘Monsieur,’ he began, ‘I do not appreciate being told what to do or being summoned to my own office. I sincerely hope you have good reason for behaving in this way.’

  ‘I merely suggested organising a session that I considered so vital to our investigation that it could not take place without you,’ Nicolas replied deferentially. ‘Besides, your presence here means you must have judged this to be the case.’

  Monsieur de Sartine’s tone mellowed.

  ‘I take that to be a good sign. But, Nicolas, will it at least lead us to settle the matter we both have on our minds?’

  ‘I think so, Monsieur.’

  ‘In any case make sure you remain discreet about this.’

  He went behind his desk and sat in the great red damask chair. He took out his watch and looked at the time.

  ‘Get through it quickly, Nicolas. I’m expected for dinner and my wife would not forgive me for missing it.’

  ‘I shall have everyone brought in immediately. But I fear, Monsieur, that your dinner will go begging …’

  Notes – CHAPTER XIV

  1. A convent situated in Rue de Charenton in Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where young foreign girls of noble birth were brought up.

  XV

  HUNTER AND QUARRY

  Come, you shadows, out of eternal gloom;

  Look now upon the day of victory.

  May deep despair and cruel rage at last

  Assemble you as one upon this stage.

  Step forward then and tremble at your fate.

  QUINAULT

  SEMACGUS was the first to appear, and was even ruddier than usual, though impassive. He was followed by La Paulet and La Satin. The madam looked downcast but her small eyes, sunk in folds of flesh, were darting around like those of an animal at bay. Antoinette betrayed her surprise at finding herself next to the navy surgeon. Louise Lardin, in a grey skirt and loose-fitting black jacket, without wig or make-up, seemed to have aged several years. Her tousled hair already showed the first signs of grey. Marie Lardin, in mourning clothes, was nervously fidgeting with a small handkerchief. Catherine Gauss supported her whilst glowering at her former mistress. Sanson slipped in like a shadow and stood almost unseen against the wall in the recess next to the fireplace. Bourdeau remained at the door.

  The witnesses took their places on the stools provided. The Lieutenant General of Police went around the desk and sat on its edge, swinging one leg and toying with a silver stiletto. In the centre of the room and directly opposite him stood Nicolas, holding on to the back of an armchair. Old Marie brought two extra candlesticks. In their light the young man’s silhouette cast a long dark shadow right down to the far end of the room.

  ‘Monsieur Le Floch, you may begin.’

  Nicolas took a deep breath and launched in:

  ‘Monsieur, the investigation you put me in charge of is coming to an end. I think I can confirm that the necessary evidence has now been assembled to come close to the truth and to identify the culprits.’

  Sartine interrupted him.

  ‘The aim is not to come close to the truth but to attain it. We await your explanations, Monsieur, though as my friend Helvétius put it,1 truth is sometimes a light that shines in the fog but fails to dispel it.’

  ‘There has been plenty of fog in this case, from the very start,’ Nicolas said. ‘Let us go back to the beginning. Commissioner Lardin had disappeared. You put me and Inspector Bourdeau in charge of investigating his disappearance. We proceeded as usual, but at first could find nothing. Then, thanks to the testimony of an elderly soup seller, old Émilie, we discovered some human remains in the knacker’s yard at Montfaucon. I should point out in passing, Monsieur, the efficiency of an administration that enabled information gathered by Temple police station to be passed on to us.’

  Monsieur de Sartine gave an ironic nod of acknowledgement.

  ‘I am pleased, Monsieur, by your observation concerning the efficiency of my police force, which is indeed the envy of Europe. But continue.’

  ‘We examined these human remains closely and they taught us several things. They were of an individual who was bald, male and in the prime of life. He was killed by a bladed instrument, then cut up and deposited in Montfaucon where his jaw was smashed. Our examination showed that the body was taken to the knacker’s yard before it started to snow and freeze. From this we were able to tell that the body had been left there the very night that Commissioner Lardin disappeared. In addition we found clothes belonging to the missing man near the body. Everything therefore pointed to the remains discovered being those of the person we were searching for. However, there was still some doubt in my mind. I had the impression that everything had been planned and arranged as if some outside agency wanted to make it easier for us to identify these remains. Every piece of evidence was intended to prove that they were indeed Lardin’s. I noticed, however, one detail: a black mark on the top of the skull, which I shall come back to. The way in which the jaw had been so savagely smashed also cast some doubt on the first supposition.’

  Nicolas paused to get his breath back and then went on:

  ‘The investigation also involved the family and friends of the missing man. We quickly learnt from Dr Semacgus that Lardin had organised a supper party in a bawdy house, the Dauphin Couronné. In the course of that crucial evening Dr Descart and Lardin quarrelled and both left the brothel at about midnight. As for Semacgus, he is said to have stayed with one of the girls until three o’clock in the morning and then been unable to find his black servant Saint-Louis, who had also disappeared. When he was questioned, Descart made no reference to his evening at the Dauphin Couronné and accused Semacgus of having killed his coachman. It was common knowledge that there was a rivalry between the two men, who had previously been friends.’

  ‘So far, Monsieur,’ Sartine said impatiently, ‘you’ve told me nothing that I didn’t already know.’

  ‘Our investigation at the Dauphin Couronné provided new leads. It appeared that, from the beginning, the Lardin couple had suffered the after-effects of Louise’s turbulent youth and that Descart, Louise’s cousin, had embezzled her parents’ fortune and was thereby the cause of this debauched youth. Because of his unhappy domestic situation, Lardin sought pleasure by paying for the services of La Paulet’s wanton women. Being an inveterate gambler and plagued by a wife with expensive tastes, he had lost a fortune and had fallen victim to blackmail by criminals.’

  Concerned about the dangerous direction Nicolas’s account was taking, the Lieutenant General of Police was nervously tapping the edge of his desk with the stiletto.

  ‘I shall say nothing about these criminals,’ Nicolas continued, much to Sartine’s relief, ‘nor about their motives. One of them, though, did interest us. His name was Mauval and his haunting presence had been noticed as he spied on us in Montfaucon. It so happened that this Mauval was Louise Lardin’s lover. It was also the case that Descart had been lured into a trap at the Dauphin Couronné. Enticed by the propositions made by La Paulet, who encouraged his desires, he was bound to come across Lardin.

  A muffled voice could be heard protesting:

  ‘I was responding to demand,’ said La Paulet. ‘The customer gives the orders.’

  Nicolas ignored this interruption.

  ‘The meeting and the quarrel seemed therefore part of a cleverly arranged plan. We discovered from another witness that, far from leaving the establishment in the Faubourg Saint-Honoré after three o’clock in the morning as he had first s
tated, Dr Semacgus had left at around midnight to share the bed of Louise Lardin. So no one had an alibi for that night. Descart and Lardin disappeared at about midnight. Semacgus slipped away at the same time. Saint-Louis, Semacgus’s coachman, was nowhere to be found. Louise Lardin, who had allegedly gone to attend vespers that evening, was unable to demonstrate beyond doubt where she had been until very late that night, as proved by her cook’s testimony regarding the state of her shoes, which were ruined by snow or rain. The mystery was still unsolved but one of these characters, Dr Descart, was soon to meet a violent end at his house in Vaugirard. The initial results of the investigation into his death were ambiguous. He seemed to have been stabbed by a lancet for bleeding. Everything pointed to Dr Semacgus, who had been invited by Dr Descart to meet him at the very time he died and who had ample opportunity to kill him. Or was it a diabolical plot by this same Dr Semacgus? Had he intended this clue to point the finger of suspicion at him in such an obvious way that he would appear completely innocent? And what about the mysterious figure whose hopping footsteps had been noticed by one of our informers, and had left small imprints on the frozen ground that I noted down? The only conclusion from all of this was that Descart could no longer reasonably be considered one of the suspects. So what then?’

  ‘Exactly. What then?’ said Sartine.

  ‘Well, Monsieur. We are dealing with a Machiavellian plot in which the culprits are sometimes the victims.’

  ‘Your words are becoming more and more confused, Nicolas.’

  ‘Everything has been done to make the situation so complicated that it is almost impossible to unravel. The first false trail is the body in Montfaucon. It was not Lardin’s. We found his body yesterday in the cellars under Rue des Blancs-Manteaux.’

  Catherine let out a scream.

  ‘Poor master, poor Marie.’

  ‘Whose, then, were the macabre remains in the knacker’s yard and what was the reason for trying to put us off the scent like this? It is in fact a long story. Imagine, Monsieur, Commissioner Lardin, after a long and distinguished career, a man with an uncontrollable passion for gambling who has to provide for his young wife, a flirtatious and pleasure-loving woman. He squanders considerable sums of money and falls into the hands of blackmailers. His situation becomes so desperate that his own servant is forced to help pay the household expenses. He is cornered.’

  Nicolas gave his superior an insistent look and Monsieur de Sartine nodded approval.

  ‘Lardin decides to disappear. He hopes that his disappearance will enable him to remake his fortune and to flee abroad where he intends to settle. He prepares a criminal plan. His wife, Louise Lardin, has a very rich cousin, Dr Descart, whom she loathes. The doctor needs therefore to be accused of the commissioner’s murder, after which he will be tried and executed and his property confiscated and transferred to his victim’s wife, who is at the time his natural heiress. Madame Lardin agrees and gives herself to Descart to justify the suspicions against him.’

  ‘It’s not true. You’re lying. Don’t listen to him.’

  Louise Lardin had interrupted Nicolas, and Bourdeau had to restrain her from clawing at his face.

  ‘It is the truth, Madame. Descart was drawn into a trap at the Dauphin Couronné. La Paulet had dangled the prospect of an attractive new recruit. He was made to put on a mask and a cape for his Carnival disguise. Lardin arranged to be there too, with Semacgus, because there needed to be a witness to the quarrel. Descart arrived and was duly provoked. There followed a struggle, and Lardin took advantage of it by tearing off a piece of Descart’s pocket, which would be useful incriminating evidence for the future. The doctor ran off, and Lardin followed close behind …’

  ‘What about Descart?’ asked Monsieur de Sartine.

  ‘He disappeared into the night and returned to his house where he lived alone. If accused of the crime, he would have had no witness and no alibi.’

  ‘You really make it sound as if you were there, Monsieur.’

  ‘Once again, Monsieur, your police force is well organised. I shall continue. During this argument, two criminals in Lardin’s pay – Rapace, a former butcher, and Bricart, a disabled former soldier – knocked Saint-Louis unconscious and slit his throat in Semacgus’s carriage. Then on the banks of the Seine they chopped the body into pieces that they put into two barrels. They transported the whole lot to Montfaucon, where an eyewitness saw them abandoning it along with the commissioner’s clothes and his cane. The snow that fell later in La Villette than in Paris, covered up the remains.’

  ‘How can you be so sure? That’s not what I read in the reports.’

  ‘In the reports you read what the witnesses were prepared to tell you. In fact I am in a position to state that the body found in Montfaucon really was that of Saint-Louis.’

  Nicolas took a piece of card from his pocket. He went up to one of the candlesticks and held the item over the flame. The smoke immediately left a black mark on the paper.

  ‘This was how it all dawned on me one night,’ he said, ‘as I watched my candle flame blacken the beam above my head.’

  ‘What you are saying, Monsieur, is so abstruse that I’m beginning to doubt your ability to think straight. Explain yourself.’

  ‘It’s very simple. You remember that black mark found on the skull in Montfaucon. I found it even more intriguing because our witness on the spot, old Émilie, had seen Rapace and Bricart strike a light from a tinder-box and burn something.’

  He turned towards Semacgus.

  ‘Monsieur, how old was your servant?’

  ‘About forty-five, as far as you can tell with an African.’

  ‘In the prime of life, then?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘He was bald, wasn’t he?’

  ‘In spite of his name, taken from his place of birth, Saint-Louis had remained a Mahometan. That was why he kept his head shaved except for one lock of hair in the middle, which according to him would allow his God to pull him up on the day of his death.’

  ‘We all know that Commissioner Lardin was bald underneath his wig,’ Nicolas continued. ‘If someone had wanted to pass off Saint-Louis’s body for Lardin’s, this distinctive characteristic would have to be removed. So it was burnt. But a black trace of it remained, which caught my attention.’

  ‘But,’ Sartine objected, ‘the man was black …’

  ‘That is precisely why his body had to be taken to the knacker’s yard, where it would be gnawed and devoured by hordes of rats, birds of prey and stray dogs until it was unrecognisable and the bones were picked clean. And why do you think the jaw was smashed and the teeth scattered? Because Lardin’s teeth were in very bad condition, unlike those of Saint-Louis, whose beaming smile is still remembered by those who knew the faithful servant. But it was important that the body should be identifiable, hence the presence of clothes and items that had belonged to Commissioner Lardin.’

  Monsieur de Sartine nodded silently, before asking:

  ‘What about Descart’s murder?’

  ‘I’m coming to that, Monsieur. Dr Descart was found dead in the doorway of his house, stabbed in the heart with a lancet for bleeding. That at least was how the murderer wanted it to look. I repeat that the victim was not in fact killed in the doorway of his dwelling, that he had not been stabbed in the heart but close to it and that the wound observed was not the cause of death. A medical expert …’

  He turned towards the fireplace where only Sanson’s shadow could be seen.

  ‘… has given a learned demonstration of how, far from being stabbed, the doctor was in fact poisoned and then suffocated with a cushion. Of that we are certain. But who could have wanted Descart dead?’

  He went up to Semacgus, who was looking down at the floor.

  ‘You, Doctor. You were Descart’s exact opposite. Your way of life and your outspokenness were in contrast to his hypocritical piety. You may argue that those are not grounds for killing him. But in addition to this there was your professional
rivalry. You belonged to opposing schools of thought and we know how much hatred such quarrels can generate. Besides this, Descart threatened your interests. You were at risk of being banned from the medical profession as you were only a navy surgeon. Your whole life would have been turned upside down. What is more, you were rivals for what convention forces me to call Louise Lardin’s affection. He had caught you with her. I know very well that you claim to have discovered the body but there is nothing to prove that you didn’t arrive a few moments earlier and commit the crime. You returned home leaving time for your small-footed accomplice to … let’s say … set up the scene.’

  Monsieur de Sartine let out a little sigh of relief.

  ‘Your constant lies do not help your cause, Semacgus,’ Nicolas continued. ‘You are a suspect but too many assumptions crowd out the truth. Everything points to your guilt. However, in this mise en scène there are many reminders of the still life laid out in Montfaucon. The truth resides perhaps in a hidden lie.’

  Semacgus was unable to control the twitching of one of his eyelids.

  ‘Luckily for you there is this invitation from Dr Descart, which on reflection has no justification. It’s a torn-off scrap of paper, undated and unsigned and with no address, which arrived at your house in very odd circumstances. I am not saying it’s a forgery; there is no doubt it is in the doctor’s handwriting. But I maintain that it is a part of a letter sent by Descart to his mistress Louise Lardin, the contents of which have been misused to invite Dr Semacgus to the house in Vaugirard. That means, Monsieur, that I accuse Madame Lardin of the murder of her cousin Descart.’

  ‘I have no doubt, Monsieur Le Floch,’ said Sartine, ‘that you will immediately back up this bold statement with conclusive proof, as you are moving very quickly from one culprit to another …’