‘When I spoke to the abortionist, she repeated what Catherine de Saltonges had told her. Apparently she had said, just before her abortion, “Fate is conspiring to kill his children before they are born.” Charles de Varencourt’s wife must have been close to giving birth, so would not have been able to walk or to be transported for several days in a cart. Either Varencourt was unaware of his wife’s condition, or he wanted to desert but didn’t succeed and escaped the firing squad because doctors were so much in demand.’ Palenier knew that he was missing some pieces of the puzzle, but he wanted to interrupt Margont as little as possible. For once he had stumbled on an investigator who did not persist in keeping all his discoveries to himself. If Margont continued to divulge information at this rate, they would both receive a nice promotion! When someone is climbing, hold tight to their coattails; when someone is falling, let go of them as quickly as possible. That was Palenier’s philosophy.
Margont went on with his explanations. The tragedies of Charles de Varencourt’s life seemed to cast a shadow over his own face. ‘Moscow burnt, and his wife and unborn child died in the fire. That’s the wife that Varencourt has never left, to quote Catherine de Saltonges. It’s also possible that other members of his family-in-law stayed with his wife - her parents, for example - and so also perished. Now we can begin to understand Varencourt a little
better. We can see how he would think constantly about fire. Moscow tipped him over the edge. For the second time his universe was wiped out, pulverised, literally reduced to cinders. Except this time he didn’t try to make a third life. He decided to seek vengeance. He came back to France and got himself admitted to the Swords of the King. He proposed a ridiculously daring and immoderate plan: to assassinate Napoleon. Just that. The Swords of the King must have laughed at him, taken him for a madman. But he developed his idea. Precisely and methodically. Fernand, you know the rest. The plan convinced the group’s committee who were, for the most part, fanatics. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that they admitted Varencourt to their circle. The Swords of the King were following several courses of action and it made sense to have Charles de Varencourt take charge of the assassination plan. He played the role of the traitor who was willing to sell out his friends. That was how he would get to know the investigator assigned by Joseph, whose identity he planned to steal. It was also he who assassinated Colonel Berle. The burns give him away. The committee had agreed that he should kill Berle, but he could not resist mutilating the body with fire. That proves he was alone when he committed the crime. An accomplice would never have let him do such a thing and would have told Vicomte de Leaume about his behaviour. The group knew that Charles de Varencourt killed Berle and that he had left their symbol as agreed. But the Swords of the King most certainly did not know about the mutilations.’
‘So that’s why he killed Count Kevlokine!’ exclaimed Palenier. ‘How could he avenge the Moscow fire unless he found a way of harming the Russians? After all, the Russians were to blame for the whole thing!’
What was striking about Palenier was his ability to sustain a lie with such conviction that it was almost believable. The Russians blamed the French totally for the destruction of Moscow, but the French - Palenier, for example - blamed the Russians. In fact they were both equally to blame. Obviously if the French had not attacked Russia, the ancient capital would not have been destroyed.
But Napoleon would certainly never have given an order to burn the city because he wanted to make peace with the Tsar, and also because he needed the city intact so that the Grande Armée could rest and recuperate there.
Margont had been in Moscow when the fire broke out. In common with other soldiers he had seen the arsonists at work: Russian police in civilian clothes and prisoners and enemy aliens freed specially to help. But fire engines? All taken away by order of Rostopchin, the Governor-General of Moscow. And fire barges? Sabotaged and burnt. Rostopchin seemed to have acted on his own initiative, not on the orders of Alexander I, who adored the city and never stopped lamenting its destruction. Rostopchin had decided to pursue the scorched-earth policy that had worked so well for the Russians up until then, but he pushed it to the extreme. The fire of Moscow caused such a hue and cry that Rostopchin denied what he had done. He swore that the French and some Russian thieves and other criminals were responsible, that the soldiers of the Grande Armée had pillaged the houses and set them alight, either from drunken high spirits or by accidentally knocking over candles. Such things had happened, but he refused to admit that hundreds of fires had been started by Russians and that the water pumps had been deliberately suppressed. Only he had the necessary authority to give those orders and make sure they were carried out effectively. Margont knew a great deal about it. He had almost been burnt alive in Moscow, along with Lefine, Saber, Piquebois and Jean-Quenin! So he had taken care to find out everything after the event.
The causes of the fire of Moscow were the talk of the salons throughout Europe. Everyone had an opinion, according to whether they supported the French or the Russians. Ironically, Margont found himself in the same boat as Charles de Varencourt; they were both surviving victims. Of course, Margont hadn’t lost nearly as much as the man he was after. But he could appreciate the profound effect the fire had had on him. Russians, French, allies of the French (most of whom were now allies of Russia): they were all to blame.
To avenge the fire of Moscow he would have to find a way of harming the French and the Russians,’ corrected Margont, giving Palenier a furious look. Varencourt had made common cause with the royalists. But Varencourt was acting for personal, not political reasons. To such an extent that he was quite prepared to betray his allies by using them to find out where Count Kevlokine lived so that he could murder him. Count Kevlokine had been murdered for the sins of Count Rostopchin - they were both friends of the Tsar, close friends. Now Napoleon was going to pay for the sins of... Napoleon.
He pictured the Moscow fire. Burning for four days. And then the aftermath. Four-fifths of the city destroyed, twenty thousand dead. Those thousands and thousands of flames had left behind a spark that still burnt today, eighteen months later, fanned by Charles de Varencourt. It had travelled across one thousand five hundred miles to reach Paris with one sole ambition: to burn up Napoleon. The flames’ return ...
It might seem hopeless: one man against an emperor and the thousands of people who guard him. But the flame from a single candle can burn down an entire forest ...
Margont turned to leave, then thought better of it and went to see Catherine de Saltonges. She was sitting despondently on her bed, staring unseeingly in front of her. He put the button down beside her.
'That belongs to you,’ he murmured.
She looked at the object, picked it up and gently closed her hands round it, as if she were cradling the last star to shine in her universe.
CHAPTER 40
MARGONT, Lefine, Palenier and his subordinate went to Varencourt’s house. The surrounding streets, muddy and malodorous, evoked a swamp in which rows of run-down houses were planted. The address Charles had given the police was just a garret, ‘a pigeon house’, as Lefine had called it. Under other circumstances it would have been comical to see the men crammed into the small space, bumping into each other and knocking their heads on the ceiling as they searched. Four policemen were already there when they arrived and declared they had found nothing of interest.