Chapter 14:The return

I made good time getting to Calais considering that I was leading Woody's horse and could only progress at a walk. The Channel crossing was relatively calm; even so I suffered an attack of mal de mer but recovered soon after disembarking at Dover. I had several Cambrai cheeses for Gerard De Pardieu, Baron d'Abbeville, and also some questions: how was it that de La Zouche had known my London address, and thus followed me when I left for France?

The road from Dover passed through an area of London, south of the river Thames, known as the Elephant and Castle. Baron d'Abbeville had lodgings near the coaching inn that gave the area its name, so it made sense for me to call on him before going on to Queen Street, and then reporting to Colonel Slade at Horse Guards.

The baron was overjoyed to receive the cheese.

"Although I have passed the age to benefit from its energising properties the taste of it is exquisite, and brings back happy memories of Versailles."

Fortunately the baron controlled his emotions and managed not to burst into tears.

"I was followed from London to Waterloo. Who, other than yourself and Pierre Blanchard's commanding officer, knew of my quest?" My voice probably held a vestige of anger, and the baron shot me a look of surprise, but showed no signs of guilt.

However, there was concern showing on his face when he answered. "No one else knew, as I only needed to questions the owner of Le Coq owner, who knows all and everyone who congregates there, if any members of the Fourth Chasseurs a Pied de Gard frequented the place. As fortune would have it Jules Maigret, the Chef de Battalion of the second battalion of that regiment, was present, and it was he, and only he, that I asked about the young man 'Pierre'."

The baron was trying to recall the sequence of events of that day, and I did not try to hurry his recollections. "Maigret asked why I was interested, and I told him that the body of a member of his regiment had been discovered, and then had been buried, at Waterloo, and I gave the description of the body as you had given me. When I informed him that it was intended to return the corpse to the family he was very appreciative of such a gracious act, and from the description given he recognised who that body might be. He then gave me the details of the boy's relations, which I related to you. Pierre Blanchard was serving in the battalion which Maigret commanded, and I learned from him that Pierre had been sponsored by an important personage -- Marshal Berthier no less."

"Berthier was Pierre's godfather. I had wondered how it was that such a young, inexperienced youth should be appointed to the Guard," I answered, and then returned to my question. "And you spoke to no one other than Maigret regarding the matter?"

He shook his head. "No one -- but Jules Maigret may have mentioned it to others; those grognards are greater gossipers than washer women."

"Would one of the grognards be a Colonel Ashby de La Zouche by any chance?"

Gerard De Pardieu's face turned white. "Nom de chien! That spawn of the devil. What has he got to do with this?"

"It was he who followed me - and gave the orders for me to be killed. De La Zouche seemed to think that there were diamonds concealed on Pierre Blanchard body, although all the boy's possessions had been removed before his burial."

"De La Zouche is the devil incarnate. He was Fouché's right hand man throughout The Terror, and eagerly assisted Fouché butcher thousands of innocent men women and children in Lyons. Among them were members of my family, my friends, and anyone who had ever served the De Pardieus. My hatred of him knows no bounds, and I would do nothing to assist him in any way other than to send him to hell."

The baron's normal friendly open face was twisted in hate and anger, and I realised underneath that benign exterior Gerard De Pardieu hid a hard, harsh, revengeful nature. It was obvious he would not have passed on my details to de La Zouche, if for no other reason than he did not have my address. I could only assume that I had been followed home from the baron's lodgings, that was the only way that de La Zouche could have discovered where I lived.

De Pardieu saw that I believed him and he relaxed. "Diamonds you say? There were rumours that Cleopatra's Diamonds were brought back from Egypt. It would appear that de La Zouche thought young Pierre Blanchard had them with him at Waterloo."

"I can assure you that Pierre Blanchard had no diamonds on his person. My men searched his body thoroughly and removed all his valuables, except his signet ring and earring, although if I hadn't been present they would have cut them from his body. In any case what soldier goes into battle carrying diamonds? It is a preposterous tale and I can't imagine how someone of de La Zouche's intelligence would believe such a thing."

De Pardieu gave a typical Gallic shrug. "Well that's as maybe, but I doubt that de La Zouche would travel from London to Waterloo merely on a whim."

I rode from the baron's lodgings thinking that de La Zouche must have got the wrong end of the stick, and if any French soldier had gone into battle with diamonds in his pocket it certainly wasn't Pierre Blanchard. Perhaps some impoverished Brabant peasant had come across the body of the Frenchman who had borne them and was now a very rich Brabant peasant.

On arrival at Queen Street my entire staff came out to welcome me home. Little Molly March looked like an angel; smiling, scrubbed, and in starched petticoats, and far removed from that street urchin who had offered to suck my pego in exchange for her freedom. Even Mrs Bridges did not bear the grim visage she usually favoured. I noticed Woody and Abigail, the housemaid, casting each other looks that gave me the distinct impression that the two were conducting a liaison and I resolved to question him about it, after asking about the fate of Colonel de La Zouche.

"Well, is Colonel Scar, or de La Zouche as I now know him, safe in our hands?"

Woody shook his head ruefully. "There's been no sign of him, although hook-nosed Pissoir appeared and has been arrested."

"Has he told us what the plot entails, the other people involved, or when it is due to take place?"

"I've not been party to the interrogation but I don't think that Colonel Slade has obtained much information from him." Woody said sourly. "If they let me at him with my knife I would soon get results."

I doubted he could be more persuasive than Gurney Slade when it came to interrogation, but held my tongue.

"I've more information, but it will not please the colonel. I'd best walk around to Horse Guards directly."

Mrs Bridges was adamant that I should eat, and so, after washing off the grime of travel, I changed into my uniform and had dinner. Mrs Bridges clucked over me like a mother hen, and suggested that I had lost weight since being in 'them foreign places with them foreign foods'.

It was near to eight in the evening by the time I reached Slade's office. He seemed unperturbed at the news I had brought concerning Octavius Hardy and the Comtesse de Montebello, - or Eloise de La Zouche, Baroness De Ath, as I supposed I should now refer to her - but cursed when he learned the identity of 'Colonel Scar'.

"By all accounts de La Zouche was a close associate of Fouché, who as you probably know was Bonaparte's Minister of Police, and ran a spy network that covered all Europe."

As it happened I had no idea who Fouché was, only hearing that name for the first time from Baron d'Abbeville, but concealed my ignorance by just nodding my head.

"De La Zouche has not yet shown his face at The French Cock; as for Hardy and his strumpet we will deal with them tomorrow morning."

He rang the bell on his desk and a moment later a young fellow of about twenty years of age, wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant of the Royal Navy, entered the room. Colonel Slade introduced me to Patrick Jane who had been working in the interrogation department but was now trying his hand in the intelligence gathering office.

"This man..." Slade said, indicating Jane, " ... can read your mind before you've even made it up yourself, and is one of the best interrogators we have."

Jane smiled deprecatingly. "I haven't been able to get much from Pissoir up to now."

Colonel Slade frowned in annoyance. "Pissoir is immune to pain, not that torture in itself gets very good results, but we use it to weaken a prisoner's resolve. Surgeon Armityge then uses a potion that will put a suspect into a dream-like trance. Usually we can then ask questions and the prisoner gives us the answers, even though they might be buried deep in their memory. Unfortunately we have drawn a blank with Pissoir, except for one clue..."

I waited expectantly for Colonel Slade to continue. " ... I say clue but it means nothing to any of us in the Bureau. I'm hoping you will have an idea of what he means... 'Pont du Cherie'?"

"It could mean Bridge of Sweethearts, Sweetheart's Bridge, or Lovers Bridge." I said. "I expect you have discerned that for yourselves. It is possibly the place where de La Zouche is to meet Bonaparte, after his escape?"

Colonel Slade nodded. "Yes, we had thought that also, but no one can place a bridge of that name in Paris, or anywhere else in France."

"It could be just the local name for the bridge." I thought some more. "We are thinking, just because Pissoir spoke in French, that the bridge is in France. If, as we believe, it is South America that an escaped Bonaparte would make for maybe we should be looking for a Spanish bridge of lovers or sweethearts?"