The Orphan's Tale (48 page)

He told the Officer of the Day that he had important information, and the man had merely cast a jaded eye over him and suggested that he think up a story that would fool someone and leave the old chestnuts to those who could give them the proper delivery.

His exchange with Larouche degenerated to a slanging-match, with Larouche having the upper hand in words of virulent foulness. The upshot was that two strapping constables had carried him bodily from the Prefecture and deposited him on the pavement outside. Once ejected from the Prefecture, he had a reaction that embarrassed him terribly: he sat down before the building and cried.

Luck was with him.
A plump, bright-eyed lady in a black bonnet with cherry-red ribbons, strolling along the Boulevard du Palais with two little girls in tow and carrying a nicely capacious basket, caught sight of him.

"
What's the matter, my lad?" she asked in a high, sweet voice.

"
I need to talk to a cop about something urgent!" Larouche wailed as he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Those goons won't let me in!"

The lady chuckled and held out her hand.
"We'll see about that," she said.

Larouche paused, doubtfully wiping his hand on the seat of his trousers, then laid his other hand in hers and followed her into the Prefecture.

He discovered then that she was the wife of one of the senior administrative officers, and something of a celebrity. She had come to drop the youngest girl off to visit with her godfather, who was an Inspector there. Her basket contained sweet pastries for the men there, and there was an extra one for him, as well. She arranged for Larouche to speak with her husband before she left.

As
she was getting ready to go, she took out a large, neatly wrapped package and said to the young constable who was escorting her, "Don't forget to give this to the Chief Inspector when Pauline leaves!"

The junior constable smiled and bowed.
"He'd kill me if I did," he said. "Good afternoon, Madame! And thank you!"

She smiled at him and then leaned down to pat Larouche
's cheek. "Speak with my husband," she said gently. "He will help you!" She was gone with another smile, taking the older of the two little girls with her.

Larouche was ushered to a chair, where he waited for a good five minutes before he found himself facing a plump, kindly, but stern
-looking man who smiled down at him and asked his name.

He stared back up at the man and offered his note.
"My name doesn't matter," he said. "This is for the big Inspector with the black coat with the capes. The guy with the green eyes. He's after a certain man: well, here's some stuff for him. Just see he gets it!"

"
I certainly shall," said the plump man. "And what of yourself, son? Are you hungry?"

"
I already ate," said Larouche. "The lady gave me a bun." He added, "It was good!"

"
They usually are," the man said with a smile. "But may I tell the Inspector you're waiting for him?"

Larouche fought down sudden panic and shook his head.
What if Monseigneur knew it was he who had been throwing the stones? "It won't be necessary," he said gruffly. "He has the message, and it's all true! Just see he gets it." He paused and added, "Please."

"
Would you like us to pay for a hackney back to your home?" the man asked.

Larouche bowed, as he had seen the cook do.
"That won't be needful - I mean necessary," he said.

"
As you wish," said the plump man as he offered his hand in the same way one man might offer it to another.

Larouche nodded and slid off his seat, then shook the man
's hand, which was still proffered. "Thanks," he said.

"
No," said the man. "We should thank you!"

              **  **  **

"
He left no name?" Malet asked later. He was sitting at the Prefect's desk, looking down at the note with a blazing smile and then reviewing his notations beside it. Pauline Guillart was sitting on his lap and taking in the wonders of his repeating watch.

"
Pauline, be careful with that!" gasped Guillart as she swung it back and forth on its chain. He met Malet's amused gaze and said, "It's a very fine watch!"

"
Relax, my dear fellow!" said Malet. "It's a piece of machinery! Did he leave a name?"

"
Pauline, my love, give the watch back to your Uncle Malet," said Guillart sternly. He waited until she had done so and the watch was safely bestowed in 'Uncle Malet's' pocket and then said, "No, sir, he didn't leave a name. I didn't want to press him. He seemed a little nervous. Justine told me she found him sitting outside and crying."

Pauline wanted to cuddle; Malet settled her more comfortably against him and scanned the note.
"He was probably crying from shame," he said. "With spelling and handwriting like this, I'd cry as well." He held the paper at arm's length, his smile dimming a little. "Good God! This is terrible! I don't understand children at all sometimes!"

"
But you like me," Pauline said wistfully.

"
I love you, Noisette," said Malet, who got along very well with children. "I just don't understand children once in a while."

"T
hat's hardly surprising, considering that you're a bachelor," said Guillart. "I gave up trying to figure children out years ago. If she's hurting you, my dear Malet, I will put her on my lap."

"
No, not at all," said Malet. "I have encountered songbirds that are heavier than her."

"
She also squirms, and you're wounded." Guillart pointed out.

Malet only smiled and shook his head.

"What's a bachelor?" asked Pauline, who was busy exploring Malet's waistcoat pockets and playing with his watch chain.

"
Someone like your godfather," Guillart answered. He smiled to himself and added, "I think it was probably pure temper, sir. Children that age tend to throw tantrums if they don't get their way or think their dignity's been compromised. I gather he had a bit of a spat with Dominique right before Justine found him."

"
Perignon?"

"
Yes. The child had quite a mastery of vulgar words, from what he told me."

"
Where was Archet during all this?"

"
He's out today. Something about his wife."

"
Oh? He's married?" Malet frowned. "I didn't know that. Good God! Who'd have him?"

"
His wife has the gratitude of all the women of France," said Guillart with a grin as Pauline chuckled.

Malet
's eyes widened and he smacked his forehead with his palm. "I shouldn't have said that," he said.

"
Why not?" asked Guillart. "It's true enough!"

"
Sebastien says Archet's a piss-ant," said Pauline with a smile that would melt marble.

Malet threw Guillart a reproachful look.
"Constable Archet is an officer of the Police," he said repressively. "He's not a 'piss-ant', and you may tell your brother that with my compliments."

"
Oh," said Pauline, who had found Malet's snuff-box. She opened it and took a piece of barley-sugar candy, then tugged at the watch chain again.

"
This boy," Malet said, "How old did you say he is?"

"
He looked between six and eight years," Guillart answered.

Malet stiffened.
The stone-thrower? "Was he a street urchin?" he asked.

"
What's that?" asked Pauline around the candy.

"
Someone who doesn't have a mother and father to love him," Guillart answered. "Stop teasing your Uncle Malet now. Yes, Monsieur, he was a guttersnipe - "

"
Guttersnipe..." said Pauline with a wide-eyed intentness that made Malet grin.

"
It's the same as a 'snicklefritz'," he told Pauline. He turned to Guillart. "He has quite a vocabulary," he said. "'Perscripshun': I wonder if he means proscriptions. And what on earth is a 'malor', do you suppose?" He scanned the note again and began to smile. "I think, my very dear Guillart, we're just about to nail Dracquet!"

"W
hat do you mean?"

"
I mean that my wishes have come true.  Just think: a little over a week ago I was wishing for a way to get a 'mole' into Dracquet's household - and now, it seems, I have one! There was a child holding that white horse for Dracquet, and this must be the child d'Arthez says he's seen from time to time. I am certain he's the one who saved my life two nights ago! See: he says, ps I am glad they din't kil you. There's too much here for it to be mere coincidence. It must be him! And he mentions a princess! It's falling into place, Guillart! It's falling into place! 'Tusday next'. Hm. That gives us almost a week."

"
What do your snitches say?" asked Guillart.

Malet frowned.
"He says precious little. I am beginning to wonder if I should pay Michaud another visit."

"
You'd best be careful," said Guillart. "You don't want to scare him off."

Malet flung him a look such as Napoleon might have thrown at an officer of local militia who had proposed a flanking maneuver.
"Is there anything else you think I should know?" he inquired pleasantly.

Guillart
's gaze was limpid. "I can't think of anything else," he said.

"
Thank you," said Malet. He began to chuckle. "Oh very well," he said after a moment. "I will send someone a little less alarming than myself. You, perhaps?"

"
I'd be happy to go," said Guillart.

"
Good. Do so as soon as you can - "

"
Aren't we going to see the elephant?" asked Pauline. "You said you'd take me."

"
Oh Lord!" said Malet.

"
You don't have to," said Guillart. "There's always another day."

Malet set Pauline on her feet and shook his head.
"No," he said. "I promised. Besides, my bodyguard would like to visit the Jardin des Plantes, I am certain. I have no idea why His Excellency assigned that gentle, helpless fellow to guard me: he's the one who needs a bodyguard! Gaping at the elephant will suit him better. Come along, Noisette." He added, "Guillart, do you suppose I will have to buy him a dish of ices, too?"

INSPECTOR MALET COMMITS A THEFT

Malet turned and waved to his young bodyguard, sitting in the carriage from the Prefecture.
"Good night," he said. "And thank you. I will see you in the morning."

He watched the carriage clatter off over the pavement and then turned toward the Rose d
'Or filled with the pleasurable contemplation of the certainty of nailing Constant Dracquet and the equally enjoyable speculation on everything he would find when he had succeeded.

The note had tied Dracquet in with Benoit
's and le Noir's attempt on Malet's life, but it also hinted at danger to a princess who would be coming to France. Princess Victoria, of course: and the word 'succession' had been used, as well.

Guns, troops, proscriptions - war!
Dracquet had profited from war before, and he would try to do so again. Malet could arrest him for the attempted assassination - but why not keep that as a trump card in case he couldn't be caught on anything more dire?

Every pot bears the imprint of its potters
' hands, however faint. Malet had learned dedication and duty at Joseph Young's knee; he owed his skill as a stalker to Cheat-Death. He was at once Cheat-Death's greatest triumph and most profound defeat.

Do as much damage as you can, boy, he had said to Malet, a lad of fifteen leaving
Toulon prison. Don't disable 'em with a pinprick when you can kill 'em with a stab to the heart! And remember: always let 'em know who it was destroyed 'em! When enough people have died screeching your name, the rest won't want to tangle with you.

Now Malet bent to sniff one of Yvette
's heavy-petaled, fragrant roses with a satisfied smile. Success was within his grasp. Now was the time to hold back, now the time to be patient. It would not do to spoil the hunt when he was so close to the kill. A simple success was not sufficient; successes could be reversed. He wanted a tour de force, and he was willing to wait for it.

In addition to that, when he had returned from the menagerie with his bodyguard and Pauline, Sergeant Guillart had shown him a list of names of people who answered to Malet
's description of Vaux. He had chosen the six closest matches, and gave directions concerning the information that he required on them.

He was certain that he would be able to put his hands on Vaux within six months.
And then? Who knew? Getting Vaux' sentence reversed was not out of the question. It would right an old wrong and heal the last lingering ache in Malet's heart.