The Orphan's Tale (6 page)

Choice.
His hand rose to his throat. They had a choice, and so had he. He looked back within the cathedral, toward the bank of candles and the man kneeling motionless before them.

Take care that you don't one day discover that the name of your master is a more dire one than you had originally thought.

He drew a deep breath, turned, and walked away from the cathedral. He could choose, and his choice -

His walk became a shaking, shambling run.

**  **  **

Malet made his unhurried way past the heavy, iron
-bound timber doors and paced slowly out below the portal of the Last Judgment. The doors closed softly behind him as he passed through them and out onto the Place du Parvis. The bulk of the Prefecture lay before him. Beyond it he could see the spire of the Sainte-Chappelle, which had once housed the crown of thorns. To the north, just visible beyond it, lay the Conciergerie and the vast complex that was called the Palais de Justice.

Stalemated!
Malet had been the colonel commanding the most prestigious regiment of Napoleon's Horse Artillery during the wars. As an artillerist, he knew when his guns had been spiked, and this time they had been spiked with an almost insolent ease. The bottle of champagne, which now was gracing the table of the priests at Notre Dame, was a final, insulting fillip.

He was stymied, he knew it, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Constant Dracquet would continue to spin his webs and Paul Malet could do nothing more than nurse his suspicions and send shadows against him for as long as he served as M. le Prefet's substitute. And when that time was past, he would be forced to return to his own arrondissement and watch from a distance as Constant Dracquet pursued his aims unchecked. And he had been so close to success!

Malet raised his eyes to the stars and promised that if he had another chance against Dracquet, he would press it to the very limit and be in on the kill himself.

If only he could have another chance!

It was enough to tax the fortitude of a hero.

              INSPECTOR MALET IS GIVEN A WEAPON

Malet arrived at the Prefecture the next morning in a profoundly vicious mood and found Inspector de Saint-Légère's report awaiting him, forwarded by Chief Inspector Guerin. At Guerin's direction, Saint-Légère had taken full responsibility for being clumsy enough to drop his weapon at the crucial moment, thus alerting the thugs and nearly spoiling the trap.

Malet read the report, his brows driving together in a scowl.
He opened the drawer of the Prefect's desk, took out a sheet of Police stationery and wrote in a precise, strong hand:

The Prefecture

Paris
 

10 September, 1833

A
lexandre Guerin

Chief Inspector

18th arrondissement

M. Guerin:

I can not feel, as you seem to, that Junior Inspector de Saint
-Légère's action of dropping his firearm in the heat of an engagement, in which he was outnumbered five to one and in fear for his life, is a fault of any magnitude. The success of the operation was due in good part to M. de Saint-Légère's courage and initiative in volunteering for his part in the investigation. This report must be re-written and resubmitted without its offensive tone of blame.

Paul V. Malet

Provisional Prefect of Police

Paris 

When the report came back the next day, duly rewritten, Malet enclosed it with his own, forwarded it to Count d'Anglars, and promised himself to invite Christien L'Eveque to bring Junior Inspector de Saint-Légère along with him the next time they dined together. That resolve was relegated to things to do in the near future by the pressure of running the Seine et Oise Prefecture in M. Lamarque's absence.

**  **  **

Malet, engaged the next day in writing his daily outline for the Prefecture, was mending a quill pen that had just split when the Chamberlain, Geraud Clerel, rapped twice, opened the door, and then entered and coughed.

He looked up and frowned.
"Yes, Clerel?" he said.

"T
his gentleman wishes to speak to the Prefect on a matter of some urgency," Clerel said. He motioned to someone standing just beyond the doorway, and Charles de Saint-Légère stepped into the office. His demeanor was deferent, but Malet could sense that the man was very worried about something and, in an odd way, embarrassed to be there.

Inspector Malet's eyes sharpened, but his voice was calm and non
-committal when he spoke. "M. le Prefet has been called away, as you know," he said. "I am acting in his place until his return. Is there a problem, M. de Saint-Légère?"

Saint
-Légère hesitated as the Chamberlain bowed himself out of the room. "There - there is," he said when Clerel was gone. "I wouldn't ordinarily trouble you, but Christien L'Eveque has spoken so highly of you, and assured me that I could turn to you. I don't know where else to go, and the matter's urgent."

"
You flatter me," said Malet. "What is wrong?"

Saint
-Légère drew a deep breath and held it for a moment. "I have been offered a bribe," he said.

Malet's eyebrows drove together for a moment and he set down his pen, but he spoke calmly.
"A bribe?" he repeated.

"
Yes, sir."

"
A bribe to induce you to do what?" Malet asked. His slight accent was fractionally more pronounced.

"
To ensure my friendship toward certain people in my precinct," de Saint-Légère replied.

The notion of anyone thinking it necessary to pay the Law for its friendship had always sparked in Malet a mixture of contempt and amusement.
"I see," he said. "Please - sit down." He indicated an elegant, gilded fauteuil upholstered in crimson damask. "And was there anything specific?" he asked when Saint-Légère was seated.

"
Nothing specific, no," Saint-Légère replied. "It was merely the nature of the gifts and the manner in which they were offered that made me uneasy." He paused and added, "I received the impression that a small lie from me from time to time would be expected."

"
There is no such thing as a 'small lie'," Malet said, but he was speaking to himself. He sat back and scowled down at the pile of reports before him. "In what quarter of your arrondissement was this telling of small, friendly lies to be done?"

Saint
-Légère told him, and then watched as Malet frowned off into space, consulting a mental map of the city.

"
Hm." Malet said at last. "Hardly a den of crime. A very respectable section, in fact. Who offered this bribe?"

"
A certain Constant Dracquet," said Saint-Légère.

The name made Malet stiffen.
Dracquet! Was it possible? He reached into the breast pocket of his waistcoat and took out a billfold. "This Constant Dracquet," he said quietly, gazing down at a folded piece of yellowed paper that he had taken out.

"
Yes, Monsieur?"

"
What is his address?"

Saint
-Légère told him, slightly puzzled by his tone.

Malet caught the sense of puzzlement; it made him tip the edge of a smile.
"I have been interested in the doings of a particular M. Dracquet, at that address, for some time," he said. "And you say he openly offered you a bribe? How very interesting."

"
No, M. l'Inspecteur." Saint-Légère spoke flatly.

Malet looked up from studying his steepled fingertips.
"I beg your pardon?" he said.

"M
. Dracquet didn't openly offer me a bribe, though he made me several gifts that I felt I had to return. He denied any intent to bribe me when I approached him."

Malet's brows lifted fractionally.
He said, "Then what is the bribe that you speak of?"

"
It's an item of considerable value," Saint-Légère said. "It was brought to me with this  note." he handed Malet a fold of cheap, anonymous paper.

Malet was frowning now. He opened the note and read it aloud:

You
have been afoot too long, Major de Saint-Légère. It is time you were mounted again. But if your sense of honor forbids your accepting this beauty, you need only take him to the Place de la Concorde and tie him to the lamp post closest to the church of La Madeleine.

The note was unsigned and the handwriting obviously altered. Malet folded it again and then looked up at Saint-Légère. "Nothing ties this to Dracquet," he said.

"
Nothing, sir."

"
Hm," said Malet. He rose and went to the window, to stand looking out with his arms folded. A crowd was gathering in the street below his window, with a splendid dark bay horse in the very center. Malet loved horses, and this one was worth a second glance. "You refused the bribe, of course," he said after a moment.

It was not a question: Saint
-Légère realized that Chief Inspector Malet had not doubted his honor for a moment. He found it a startling, and very flattering, thought.

"
Of course," he replied, smiling.

"
Then the matter is closed." Malet said flatly. He was disappointed. It had been so close... "You didn't accept the bribe, nothing illegal has been done, and the office of the Prefect has no reason to intervene."

"
Perhaps not, M. l'Inspecteur," said Saint-Légère. "But this isn't the first time that I have been offered something like a bribe since I started to work in the 18th arrondissement."

Malet stiffened.
"Oh?" he asked. He had not turned from the window.

"
Yes, sir. I was given all the duties proper to a Police Inspector - admittedly of a junior grade - before I was assigned my present territory. On four separate occasions I was offered handsome gifts of money by various people - "

Malet turned away from the window and scowled at him.
"Indeed?" he said.

"
Yes, M. l'Inspecteur," Saint-Légère said. "I was offered money by various shopkeepers and property-owners in my territory. I declined them - much to their surprise, I fear - and was called in by Chief Inspector Guerin."

"
Did he say or do anything that would merit the Prefect's attention?" Malet asked. This lead might do as well as the other.

Saint
-Légère considered. "No, sir," he said at last. "He said that I was to make a note of people who made such offers, note the offers, and bring them to him to handle. I refused to have anything to do with them. I was assigned my current territory four days later."

"
I see," said Malet. "And, having refused these gifts, you were sent away to a position of lesser responsibility?"

"Y
es, sir." Saint-Légère considered and then added with some difficulty, as though performing a task he found distasteful, "Though in fairness to Chief Inspector Guerin, I must admit that it is closer to my lodgings."

Malet dismissed the excuse with a flick of his fingertips.
"And what, pray, are your new duties?" he asked.

"
Walking a beat, reporting three times a day, writing a report at the end of the day - "

"
In essence, then, you were reduced to Junior Constable," Malet said thoughtfully. He turned back toward the window. "And you saw nothing further that would pique your interest?"

"
Nothing, sir. Though I did meet M. Dracquet within the past several months. My lodgings aren't far from his house... I don't know, sir. There's something strange about this entire business. Whoever offered the bribe - and I am certain it's Dracquet, even if I can't prove it - he won't let it drop. He's very insistent. I have a feeling... Something important is about to happen - "

Malet's shoulders stiffened.
Saint-Légère was still speaking, but Malet suddenly heard, in his mind, Ensenat's voice saying, Now that he's involved - He thought again, 'Involved - ' in what?

Saint
-Légère was still speaking. " - and he wants to be sure of me. The bribe has been brought to my home several times - "

"
And what is this bribe?" Malet asked at last over his shoulder.

"
A horse," de Saint-Légère replied.

"
A - horse?" Malet repeated.

"
A magnificent horse," Saint-Légère said. "A valuable horse, a horse to put Pegasus to shame. A horse," he added, "that would earn me a fortune simply by standing at stud. "

Malet turned from the window.  "
A tall black bay with one white foot.  A thoroughbred; probably English."