Monsieur! Favour is by essence volatile, as our drawing room apothecaries and chemists say! People always remember the bad things we are supposed to have done. Do they ever take into account our efforts and our successes? Well, that’s as it should be. We are the King’s servants, for better or worse, and whatever it may cost us. But that this ridiculous provost, who has used his alliances and relationships to advance himself and who has obtained everything without having to make any effort, and certainly without deserving it, that such a man should be the cause of my disgrace, that’s something I can’t get over. He’s the kind of person who’s puffed up with pride when he mounts a good horse, or sports a plume in his hat, or wears fine clothes. What nonsense! If there’s any glory in those things, it should go to the horse, the bird or the tailor!’
Again he struck the gaming table. Nicolas, astonished by this uncharacteristic outburst, suspected a touch of play-acting in his chief – and suspected, too, that his last words had been a quotation, although he could not immediately identify it.
‘But we’re straying from the point,’ Sartine went on. ‘Listen carefully. You’ve been with me for a long time now and you are the only person I can tell these things. The reason I feel so strongly about this affair is that beneath such struggles for influence, major interests are always at play. You know that I am friendly with the First Minister, the Duc de Choiseul. Even though they had their disagreements and didn’t always trust each other, by and large he was close to Madame de Pompadour …’ He broke off. ‘You had dealings with her, didn’t you?’
‘I often had the privilege of speaking with her and serving her, when I first started working for you.’
‘And even, if I remember correctly, performing some signal services for her.2 The last time our poor friend received me, she was no more than a shadow of her former self … She was burning hot and complained of being frozen, her face looked drawn, and her complexion was pale and mottled …’
The Lieutenant General broke off, as if the memory was too painful to evoke.
‘I’m straying from the point again. My relations with the new favourite are quite different. She has neither the contacts, nor the political grasp, nor the subtle influence of the lady of Choisy,3 who was distinguished by her education, her studied elegance, her sure taste in arts and letters, and her native charm – well, she was born under the sign of Pisces. This one’s a decent enough girl, but she’s been thrown into the subtle ins and outs of the Court without preparation, apart from the wrong kind, perhaps.’
He lowered his voice, and looked around at the shelves of his library.
‘The worst of it is, whatever’s been achieved during the day she undoes at night. By arousing the old King’s senses she ensures her influence. Choiseul is obsessed with getting his revenge on the English. As he’s unsure how long he’ll keep his position, he’s in such a hurry to achieve this end that he has a tendency to rush in and make stupid blunders. He’s antagonized the new mistress or, more precisely, he resents her for having succeeded where his own sister, Madame de Choiseul-Stainville, failed – God knows she put her heart and soul into it! What’s all this to do with me, you will ask. I’ve been dragged into this quarrel against my will. Keep this to yourself: on the King’s orders, I had to go to Madame du Barry and protest my loyalty. I had to promise her, almost on my knees, that I would do everything I could to prevent the publication of scandalous writings, which, unfortunately for me, have multiplied and spread – the work of journalists and printers paid for by Monsieur de Choiseul himself.’
‘I recall, Monsieur, your ordering me to track down a lampoon called The Nocturnal Orgies of Fontainebleau. But where does Provost Jérôme Bignon fit in to all this?’
‘There’s the rub. He’s wooing Madame du Barry. You see, my dear Nicolas, the regrettable position in which last night’s events place me, apart from my sadness at any example of bad administration by the city authorities. I’ll be held responsible, because no one knows that the celebrations were taken out of my hands.’
‘And yet the marriage of the Dauphin does seem like a genuine success on Choiseul’s part. Everyone sees it as his crowning achievement. He always wanted to forge an alliance with Austria.’
‘You’re right, but nothing is closer to a precipice than a summit. You now have all the inside information I can give you – except for one other thing. Last night, His Majesty and Madame du Barry went to Bellevue to see the fireworks from the terrace of the chateau. They didn’t know anything of the tragedy at the time. On the other hand, the Dauphine and the King’s daughters went to Paris. On Cours-la-Reine, they were admiring the illuminations when they heard cries of terror that got them all aflutter. The coaches did an about-turn, with the princess in tears …’
He stood up, checked the position of his wig and readjusted it with both hands.
‘Commissioner, here are my instructions. They must be followed to the letter. You will use every means necessary to draw up a report on the events in Place Louis XV: how they started, who was responsible, who was at fault, who interfered. You will try to determine the exact death toll. Don’t let anything stand in your way. People may try to obstruct you. We should be prepared for the worst: they may even threaten your life. You will report only to me. Should I fall out of favour and be unable to use my authority, or should I lose my life, then speak to the King on my behalf. You have the necessary access, since you hunt with him. This is a personal service I am asking of you, and I would be grateful if you would perform it with the rigour you have always demonstrated. Naturally, all this requires absolute secrecy.’
‘Monsieur, I have a request to make.’
‘You want Inspector Bourdeau to assist you? Your wish is granted. His past record speaks for him.’
‘I’m very grateful. But I had something else in mind …’
Monsieur de Sartine appeared impatient, and Nicolas sensed that he had no desire to prolong an interview in which he had been forced to reveal a number of secrets and confess to a certain helplessness.
‘I’m listening, but be quick.’
‘You know my friend Dr Semacgus,’ Nicolas said. ‘He assisted me all night and, as we were looking over the victims who had been taken to La Madeleine cemetery, our attention was drawn to the body of a young woman who seems not to have been crushed or otherwise injured in last night’s disaster, but strangled. I’d like to pursue the case.’
‘I should have known! It would have surprised me if in the midst of so many dead bodies you hadn’t managed to find one for your personal delectation! Why are so interested in this particular victim?’
‘It could be, Monsieur, that one tragedy is being used to conceal another. Who knows?’
Sartine was thinking. Nicolas had the feeling that he had touched the right chord.
‘And how do you propose to pursue this case, Commissioner?’
‘I’d like Sanson to open up the corpse in the Basse-Geôle. We need to determine if the death occurred as the result of last night’s disturbances or if it was a domestic crime. Finally, may I suggest that this investigation could usefully serve as a cover for the more discreet general investigation you wish me to conduct into the tragedy of Place Louis XV? No one will be able to see the wood for the trees.’
It was doubtless this
