The Man with the Lead Stomach (22 page)

‘And do you help him pay his debts, like a good friend?'

‘I have done so.'

‘Did you give him a ring to pledge, for example?'

‘It's a family heirloom.'

‘That you simply handed over. That's hard to believe.'

‘What would one not do to help a friend? It could always be redeemed. Are you one of those spies from the Gaming Division?'

Nicolas did not rise to this provocation.

‘Where were you last Tuesday afternoon?'

‘In Choisy. At the chateau.'

‘Do you have any witnesses?'

He gave Nicolas a contemptuous sneer. ‘Ask you know who. She will confirm it.'

What could he say in answer to this rejoinder, which put the two men on an equal footing? It was obvious that Truche de La Chaux was trying to trip him up and associate him in his own deviousness. What then did the King's favourite have to do with someone of that ilk, who also happened to be the common factor in a criminal investigation?

‘I'm afraid I do not understand what you mean. Do you know the Comte de Ruissec?'

‘Not at all. I know only that he is a member of Madame Adélaïde's entourage. And with that, Monsieur, I must leave you. My presence is required for the end of Mass in the chapel.'

He bade farewell and strode off. Nicolas watched him go. He was not satisfied with this conversation. It had produced nothing new and was merely confusing the issue. It had even created a new problem by hinting at secret connections between Truche and Madame de Pompadour. What was more, the Life Guard seemed very sure of himself. Was he innocent or protected by a higher authority? In any case, what could he be accused of except being involved in various aspects of the investigation, with the apparent exception of the Comtesse de Ruissec's death? The fact remained, however, that some unknown person had arranged a meeting with him and the plan had been thwarted by a lieutenant in the French Guards.

Gaspard was waiting for him. Nicolas thought he should let the young man go. It did not prove so simple; the royal page did not want to leave him, no doubt because of the clear instructions he had received from Monsieur de La Borde. Besides, after Nicolas's generosity it was a matter of honour for him to prove his worth. Nicolas eventually succeeded in convincing him, assuring him that he wished to visit the gardens and the ornamental fountains and that he would meet up with him later in the First Groom's apartments; he knew his way around now and could manage on his own. He simply had the boy show him how to get to Apollo's Chariot. It was child's play, Gaspard told him. He only had to keep in line with the palace and walk straight on.

The park revealed itself to be a source of surprise and wonder to Nicolas. Struck by the grandeur and beauty of the gardens, he crossed the water parterre, admired the Fountain of Latona and the Basins of the Lizards, and walked straight ahead until he finally reached Apollo's Chariot in the middle of its ornamental pond. He wanted to see the place that had been chosen for the mysterious rendezvous. He did not know exactly what he was looking for. In the midday sun a gentle breeze lightly ruffled the surface of the water.

He decided to go and see the Grand Canal, which began just behind Apollo's Chariot. He went through the Sailors' Gate, which was guarded, and was surprised to see a dozen or so boats moored on the bank of the Grand Canal. He carried on walking. As he went along the immense waterway, his attention was suddenly caught by an eddy. His first thought was that it had been made by a giant carp leaping out of the water: it was in fact a child struggling and desperately waving his arms about. He kept opening his mouth but no sound came out. He clearly had no strength left. Nicolas hastily removed his coat and shoes and plunged into the water. He swam swiftly towards the child, took hold of him, lifted his head out of the water and brought him back to the bank.

It was only then that he could examine the creature he had just saved. He was a puny-looking boy, aged between ten and twelve, dressed in rags. There was a scared look in his beautiful eyes and his mouth continued to open and close without producing any sound. He kissed Nicolas's hand. After a few minutes of puzzlement Nicolas realised that he had saved a poor deaf-
and-dumb
boy.

With the aid of gestures, they eventually managed to hold a conversation of sorts. The child had been fishing, had fallen in and, not knowing how to swim, had been swept away by the choppy water. He had been on the point of drowning when Nicolas reached him.

Nicolas drew a house in the gravel. The child stood up, took him by the hand and led him off into the untamed countryside of the great park. They walked for a long time through the thicket before coming to a large hedge covered with brambles, which concealed the entrance to a long building made of logs. The child now became agitated and strangely anxious. He suddenly pushed Nicolas back towards the forest, kissed his hand again, smiled and then motioned him to leave.

Nicolas found himself in the forest once more. Hours had passed and night was about to fall. He had some difficulty finding his way again but thanks to his country upbringing he knew how to plot his bearings amidst the tall trees. With the help of the distant light of the stars he found the Grand Canal and went through the Sailors' Gate. There the same guard recognised him. Nicolas questioned him and was told that many fountaineers' workshops were allowed in the Great Park, and the one he had seen probably belonged to Jean-Marie Le Peautre, who had set it up only a few months ago with his helper Jacques, a young deaf boy.

On reaching the chateau he discovered Gaspard pacing up and down, waiting for him. He went up to La Borde's apartments where, after getting changed and drying off, he read until supper time. When he returned to his bedroom an outfit had been laid out on an armchair: jerkin, cravat, jacket and braided tricorn,
together with a pair of boots and a hunting knife. He asked the manservant to wake him early in the morning.

The manservant woke him at the crack of dawn. The meet was arranged for ten o'clock and the carriages were due to leave half an hour earlier. Nicolas took his time, getting ready with
particular
care, and was only satisfied once he had seen a flattering reflection of himself in the pier glass above the fireplace. At the appointed time Gaspard appeared, his sharp-featured little face now cheered by a kindly smile showing that he had adopted Nicolas, and advised him to set off.

The carriages were assembling in front of the North Wing. A host of vehicles was waiting. A valet examined the note that Nicolas handed him and pointed to his carriage where a young man who did not introduce himself eyed him up and down and then turned away. Nicolas did not take offence at this and lost himself in contemplation of the gardens, then the park. After passing through a gate, the carriages quickly entered the forest pathways. He saw again the great park where he had walked the previous day. The countryside became increasingly wild, with fields, fallow land, spinneys and tall trees. Three-quarters of an hour later the caravan arrived at the meet. The guests alighted from their carriages and, following his neighbour, Nicolas once more presented his note to the whippers-in. He remembered to tip one of them, who, with a knowing wink, showed him a tall dappled grey gelding. He preferred to give a favourable interpretation to this gesture of complicity. The animal in
question, after bucking and rearing a few times to test him, realised that it was dealing with an experienced horseman and bowed to his will. For a horse used by so many different riders Nicolas thought it obeyed the bit rather well and that they would prove good companions. He felt in high spirits. A few paces away a young lady in a green riding coat was talking loudly. Nicolas recognised her as Madame Adélaïde, who was listening to an elderly master of hounds giving his report. He was showing her deer droppings on some leaves.

‘Long, Madame, well formed and shaped. A good-sized male.'

‘Did you see it, Naillard?'

‘I went out beating in the early morning, I headed it back, then saw it feeding. A fine tall beast with palmed antlers. I followed it with my dog back to its lair in the thicket, where it went to ground again. Then I marked the spot with broken branches.'

The princess appeared satisfied and the troop of riders moved off again in the midst of the barking pack.

To begin with, Nicolas simply enjoyed the exhilarating experience of once again riding a contented mount. The two of them were as one, both filling their lungs with the pure forest air. He had always loved to gallop and forget all his cares. He was, however, forced to slow his pace, for fear of overtaking the head of the hunt. Besides, Madame Adélaïde had just put her horse into a walk and did not seem eager to hurry things along until the animal was started and the pack at its heels. Just as the hunters were entering a large clearing she suddenly left the main group and went into the shade of the trees. The unpleasant person who had travelled in the same carriage as Nicolas came up to him and, with a wave of his hat, requested him to join the princess. Now it
was Nicolas's turn to enter the shade of the trees, amidst the dried and reddish ferns. Madame had halted her horse. He came closer, jumped down and, removing his tricorn, bowed. She gave him a kindly look but did not smile.

‘They speak well of you, Monsieur.'

There was nothing he could say in reply. He simply adopted a modest expression. Who could ‘they' be? The King? Sartine? La Borde? All three, perhaps. Certainly not Saint-Florentin, whom the King's daughters hated.

‘They say you are wise and discreet.'

‘I am Your Royal Highness's humble servant.'

That went without saying.

‘There has been some troublesome business in my Household, Monsieur Le Floch. My poor Ruissecs have been struck by misfortune, as you know …'

She meditated for a moment. Nicolas even thought she was praying. Then she seemed to brush aside some annoying thought.

‘Still … I also have recently discovered some very unpleasant thefts from my caskets.'

He dared interrupt her. She smiled at him in surprise. She was a beautiful young woman with an imperious charm.

‘Jewels, Madame?'

‘Yes, jewels. Several jewels.'

‘Would it be possible for Your Royal Highness to have a list drawn up by one of your most trusted servants describing the missing items?'

‘My people will see to it that you are provided with the list.'

‘Would you permit me, Madame, to put some questions to your servants, under the guidance of a member of your Household?'

‘Do as you please. I am relying on you to solve this matter.' She smiled once more. ‘I knew your father. You resemble him.'

A horn sounded from not very far away. A loud voice shouted, ‘There it goes!'

‘I believe, Monsieur, the deer has been started for the dogs. It is time to go. Good hunting.'

She spurred her mount, which whinnied and set off. Nicolas put his hat on again, remounted and followed at a canter. He could hear blasts on hunting horns and the hunters shouting. There was considerable confusion. It looked as if the hunted animal was doubling. A whipper-in could be heard calling in the dogs: ‘Tally-ho! This way!' and alerting the hunters. Amidst this commotion Nicolas's mount became nervous and bolted. Before he could bring it under control it had carried him away from the hunt. Deafened by the rushing wind, he did not hear two riders come up from behind. By the time he felt their presence it was already too late. Turning round, all he could see was a black cape stretched between them that struck him, knocking him to the ground. His horse fled in panic. His head hit a tree stump, for a moment everything was a blur and then he passed out.

He felt a dull throbbing in his head. He should not have dispatched his supper and wine so eagerly. And besides, the bed was very hard and the bedroom cold. He tried to pull up the sheet and felt the buttons of his jerkin. He gathered his wits and then recalled the attack. He really had been set upon by two strangers.

Where was he? Apart from a sore head, he seemed to have no broken bones. As he tried to stretch he realised that he was bound,
hand and foot. A familiar odour told him where he was being held prisoner. That musty smell and the reek of extinguished candles and incense could only belong to a consecrated place, a church or monastery. There was no light at all, just darkness. He shuddered. Was he locked away in a crypt or the dungeon of a monastery, where no one would ever find him? He had a growing feeling of suffocation and anxiety.

One detail kept coming back to him, although it seemed trivial given the gravity of his situation: he had not thought of informing Monsieur de Noblecourt that he would be spending several days in Versailles. He could imagine how worried his friends would be. In the end this nagging thought helped him forget his predicament. Time passed.

After several hours he heard a noise. A door opened and the light from a lantern dazzled his sore eyes. When he opened them again he could see nothing; someone had gone behind and
blindfolded
him. He was picked up, carried almost, and dragged outside. He could feel steps underfoot, and then fresh air on his cheeks. He heard the crunch of gravel. Another door opened and he had the impression that they were going back indoors, and was struck by the same church smell. He was made to sit on a
straw-bottomed
chair, which he could feel under his fingers. His blindfold was removed. His eyelids were swollen and there was a searing pain in the nape of his neck.

The first thing he noticed was a large black wooden crucifix on a white wall. An old man in a cassock sat at a table, hands clasped, staring at him. His eyes gradually became accustomed to the light. A single candle was burning on an earthenware plate. He stared at the elderly priest. There was something familiar about
him but the years had taken their toll on a face he had known in another life.