Soldier of Fortune
Charles Catto had made all the necessary preparations. Having taken the trouble to inspect the camp thoroughly, he knew exactly where he could smuggle Frederic Seurel in past the sentries and how to conduct him to Daniel Rawson's tent without being seen. When the murder had been committed, Seurel followed his orders and slit open the back of the tent, darting through the gap with a severed head in the small sack he had brought with him. Catto was waiting to lead him out of the camp. The hue and cry was raised faster than he had expected but Catto had allowed for that contingency. Having taken Seurel to a secure hiding place within the perimeter of the camp, he joined in the search, making sure that nobody went anywhere near his accomplice.
It was over an hour before the commotion finally died down. Catto was at last able to slip away, liberate Seurel from his refuge and escape from the camp with him. Their horses had been hidden over a mile away. When they had reclaimed them, they rode off until they were a long way clear of the army encampment. It was only then that they were able to congratulate each on the way that their plan had worked. They stopped near an abandoned cottage and dismounted. Seurel was grinning at his triumph.
'It was so easy,' he boasted, holding up the blood-soaked sack. 'I took him from behind. I put an arm round his neck and stabbed him through the heart.' He mimed the action. 'His head was soon off.'
'You did well, Frederic,' said Catto.
'Does that mean I get more money?'
'You get what we agreed.'
'I should have equal payment,' argued Seurel, tapping his chest. 'I killed him, after all.'
'Yes,' countered Catto, 'but who got inside the camp to make it possible? You could never have done that. Besides, it wasn't you that General Salignac chose for this assignment. He picked me and told me to choose my own accomplice and pay him what I thought fit. That's how you come to be here, Frederic. You agreed to my terms.'
'That was before I knew what I had to do.'
'There's no going back on our arrangement now.'
'I think I deserve some reward,' said Seurel.
'I'll mention that to the General,' said Catto. 'You'll certainly get no more from me than we decided at the outset. But let's not haggle over money at a time like this,' he went on, adopting a more amiable tone. 'Our work is done. All we have to do is to present this little gift to General Salignac then we can go off to spend our money.' He nudged his friend. 'Take him out — I want to see Captain Rawson.'
Their eyes had become accustomed to the dark by now so they were both able to get a reasonable idea of what the face looked like as the head was hauled out of the sack by Seurel.
'Well,' he said, expecting lavish praise, 'what do you think?'
Catto peered at the face. 'I think you must be even more stupid than I feared,' he said harshly. 'That's not Daniel Rawson.'
'Yes, it is!'
'I've seen the man and he looks very different.'
'But he was in his tent. You took me there.'
'I expected him to be alone at that time of night.'
'And so he was — that's why I killed Captain Rawson.'
'No, you buffoon,' yelled Catto, 'you killed someone else. We went to all that trouble and we end up empty- handed. You're an idiot, Frederic, a brainless, blundering imbecile.'
'I obeyed your orders, Charles, that's all.'
'My orders were for you to kill Daniel Rawson, not some nameless individual who's no use to us at all. This man probably held a different rank altogether. Didn't you look at his uniform to make sure that he was a captain?'
'He wasn't wearing a jacket,' recalled Seurel. 'He'd taken it off to play backgammon. The board was set out on the table.'
Catto snarled. 'Who cares about that?'
Seurel was hurt. Having been brave enough to enter an enemy camp, he had committed a murder under the very noses of the British troops and felt entitled to admiration. Instead, he was being reviled by his partner. There was no hope of an immediate return to the camp. Now that Catto had deserted, he would be shot on sight by any soldier who recognised him. After staring at the head once more, he dropped it back into its sack. Seurel's brow was corrugated by thought. A few moments later, he snapped his fingers.
'I have it, Charles!' he exclaimed.
'Don't you dare tell me that you intend to stroll back into the camp, ask for Captain Rawson then cut off his head,' said Catto with scorn. 'That's just the kind of lunatic idea you'd think of.'
'We don't need Captain Rawson. We already have him.'
'We have someone else, I tell you.'
'We know that,' said Seurel slyly, 'but the General doesn't. All we have to do is to give him the head and tell him that I cut it from the shoulders of Daniel Rawson.' He grinned inanely. 'Don't you think it's a clever ruse?' Catto turned away in disgust. 'It is, Charles. It solves our problem. General Salignac has never seen Rawson so he'll be none the wiser.'
'If I thought that,' said Catto, rounding on him, 'I'd chop off your useless head and swear that it belonged to Captain Rawson. The ruse would never work.'
Seurel was dejected. 'Why ever not?'
'Don't you realise what he'll do?'
'Give us a reward, I hope.'
'No, Frederic. He'll want to taunt his wife. When he gets back to Paris, he'll wave the head of her lover in front of her. Madame Salignac will see at a glance that this is not Rawson.'
'Oh,' said Seurel, scratching his cheek. 'I never thought of that.'
'Evidently.'
'What are we going to do, Charles?'
'To begin with,' said Catto, grabbing the sack, 'we'll get rid of this fellow.' He hurled the sack and its grisly contents into the ruins of the cottage. 'Then we follow the army again and bide our time. If and when we do get a second chance, try not to make a mess of it again.'
'It wasn't my fault,' bleated Seurel.
'Of course, it was.'
'How was I to know what Rawson looked like?'
'I described him to you, Frederic.'
'It was dark in that tent. There were only two candles and I blew those out as I left. I did what I was told to do, Charles.'
'Nobody told you to kill the wrong man.'
'That was an accident.'
'It was a ruinous mistake,' said Catto nastily. 'Let's make sure it's the last one you ever make. And this might be the time to warn you that General Salignac does not tolerate failure. If we don't give him what he wants, he'll have us skinned alive.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
A report of the incident reached the Duke of Marlborough immediately upon waking. He summoned Daniel Rawson in order to hear the full details. Amid the bustle of a camp preparing to move on, they stood outside the Duke's tent as it was being taken down. The first gesture of light was appearing in the sky.
'This is extremely distressing,' said Marlborough, stroking his chin. 'Lieutenant Hopwood was a promising young officer.'
'He was also very unlucky, Your Grace.'
'That goes without saying.'
'I didn't mean it in the obvious sense,' explained Daniel. 'The fact of the matter is that Richard Hopwood died as a result of mistaken identity.'
'What do you mean, Daniel?'
