epaulettes and having his pay divided by twenty. He felt he was approaching a defining moment. It was impossible for him to carry out a thorough investigation under such conditions. Either he did what the prince wanted and scuppered his investigation or he stood up to him. Eugene’s behaviour was completely contradictory. On the one hand, he wanted the murders of this actress, the Polish woman and the sentry to be solved. On the other, he was afraid of facing up to the possibility that one of his officers was a criminal. Saber was always talking about plans and tactics – Margont thought that his friend would have been proud of him at this moment: he had just worked out a strategy for making the prince talk.
‘How could an intruder have made his way into the castle when there were so many people present?’
The prince frowned. ‘Do you listen to me when I speak? I’ve told you more than once that there was a host of domestics. He passed himself off as a valet.’
‘Your Highness, servants wear servants’ clothes. Here’s a man who arrives dressed like a beggar – because you said yourself he was a layabout, so I imagine—’
‘You imagine far too much. He’s said to have stolen a servant’s outfit. The Polish authorities have investigated the matter, I’ll have you know.’
‘Their investigation lasted less than twenty-four hours as—’
‘If a case is solved in twelve hours that does not automatically make it a miscarriage of justice.’
‘Did people notice this madman in the course of the evening?’
‘The question was put to a few trustworthy servants – and only them in order to prevent the spread of rumour – and admittedly the reply was no. But the countess had taken on a large number of staff solely for the duration of that evening’s entertainment. None of her usual valets would have had any reason to pick out one new face among the employees because they were all new.’
The prince was getting annoyed. He was going to break off the conversation. Margont nodded his agreement.
‘Perfect, Your Highness. I’m quite prepared to believe in the efficiency of the Polish investigators. Would you be so kind as to explain to me how this man proceeded?’
‘The day before the reception he entered the house of one of the countess’s servants and stole his outfit. The servant thought it was an ordinary theft. The theft was confirmed by the domestic in question after he had been traced.’
This story was so full of improbabilities and extraordinary coincidences that Margont did not even bother to make a list of them. On the other hand, his strategy was working. Eugene was not fully convinced of the guilt of this deranged man but he wanted to believe it. Margont was toying with this element of doubt like someone pulling at a loose thread, and gradually Eugene’s confidence was fraying. Margont had reversed the roles of prince and captain and this was exactly how he planned to conduct the conversation.
‘There’s one thing I don’t understand, Your Highness. This man killed without a motive …’
‘Not without a motive, but because he is mentally disturbed.’
‘But how can he be mentally disturbed when he kills if he is perfectly sane when he is planning the crime? We know that he did some research, drew up a plan, stole a servant’s outfit …’
‘How should I know? I’m not a specialist in these disorders.’
‘If I may be so bold, neither are the Polish investigators. I assume that one of them has been questioned.’
‘Of course not, because the culprit has confessed.’
‘How was this man tracked down?’
‘He had already committed a public order offence in the past. So the investigators questioned him, as they do all the usual suspects.’
Margont was furious. So much for the ideals of the Revolution and the rights of man! Were all men equal then, except the insane?
‘I see. “Insane and therefore suspect.” Or even better: “Insane and therefore guilty.”’
‘He confessed! And no force was used to make him confess. I’d sent one of my aides-de-camp to make certain of that.’
‘May I talk to this aide-de-camp?’
‘Yes, but after the campaign is over because he stayed behind in Poland to follow the trial.’
They were going round in circles but Margont remained unruffled.
‘How did the suspect confess, Your Highness? Did he give his own version of events or did he accept the one presented to him?’
The prince seemed exasperated by this conversation but was unable to bring it to an end.
‘Well, the facts were put to him and he admitted to them. It was quicker that way because he seemed incoherent. According to the report I was given of his interrogation, his explanations were hopelessly confused. For example, he would break off in the middle of a sentence and remain silent for several minutes, for no apparent reason, before continuing to talk but about something completely different in the same rambling manner. And he didn’t even seem to be aware of these inconsistencies.’
‘What are we to think of a confused mind that carries out a consistent plan in masterly fashion? Did he even understand what he had been made to confess to? I don’t doubt that he admitted to doing it. What’s surprising is that he didn’t also admit to being responsible for the double murder on the Lyons mail-coach, Marat’s assassination, the booby trap that almost blew up the Emperor in Rue Nicaise, and to being the man in the iron mask.’
‘Don’t overdo it. I don’t need you for that. At least I asked that, in view of his mental disorder, he should not be sentenced to death. That’s something.’
So they even wanted to execute him, did they? Margont felt nauseated.
‘I’m going to order a new inquiry,’ continued the prince. ‘I admit that your argument does trouble me. However, I’ve often had positive reports about the efficiency of the Polish authorities.’
Margont did not doubt that. He sensed a presence behind those who had conducted this mockery of an investigation. Countess Nergiss. The prince was so eager for this case to be solved … Bribing one of her servants and one or two Polish notables was neither here nor there in terms of expense as far as she was concerned. Margont had mixed feelings about this woman. Either she had been seduced by power or else she had acted out of love, to fulfil her husband’s dream. If that was the case, her ambition was rather moving and Margont could not bring himself to dislike her.
‘Nevertheless, it has to be him,’ muttered Eugene.
‘How did events that evening unfold?’
‘The murderer mingled with the guests. That must have been the case because there were sentries all around the castle and such a large number of people present …’
Of course he mingled with the guests because he was one of them! Margont exclaimed to himself. Still, at least the prince was co-operating now.
‘He went into the dressing room …’
‘How did he find it?’
‘Just after the performance a crowd of spectators hurried into the dressing rooms to congratulate the actors as they were removing their make-up. I went in myself. It was easy therefore to locate the place. The actors then went back out into the grounds. Mademoiselle Lasquenet returned to her dressing room later so her murderer then took an enormous risk in following her there because an admirer might have tried his luck with her, or a servant might have encountered him or heard him. He acted very swiftly, otherwise someone would certainly have caught him in the act. He entered the room. Mademoiselle Lasquenet was not worried. All she needed to do was to shout and a servant would hear her. Besides, either the murderer was disguised as a valet and she thought he had been sent by the countess, or he introduced himself as one of the guests. If that were the case, actresses are used to this sort of situation and know how to deal with people tactfully. The man took her by surprise and stabbed her twice. She died before she even had time to scream. So, as you can see, this crime is different from the one involving the Polish woman.’
‘But it’s very similar to the one involving the sentry – killing someone outright by stabbing them only twice. Besides, we can’t say whether the murderer would have mutilated his victim or not if he’d had time.’
‘On that subject, there is one detail. The murderer cut out her tongue.’
Margont shuddered. He could never get used to horror. ‘The tongue …’ Now it was his turn to feel unsettled.
