Read Memory of Flames Online

Authors: Isabel Reid (Translator) Armand Cabasson

Tags: #Historical

Memory of Flames (3 page)

‘We have no faith in Varencourt. We need someone loyal. The affair is of the utmost importance, we can’t leave it to a mercenary.’ ‘When he’s lost all your money at the gaming tables, it’s my life he’ll gamble on! He’s already sold his friends; he’ll be able to redeem himself with them by denouncing me, then he’ll sell you the names of the men who have stabbed me to death!’

Joseph raised his voice, gesticulating and red in the face. He looked like a glass of red wine, shaken and spilt by an angry hand. ‘Be quiet! Those are my orders! Do you think anyone here gives a

damn what you think? If you say any more I shall have you sent to be trampled by the Cossacks. Silence!’

There was a jumble of paper, books and other objects on the desk, and Joseph pushed it all towards Margont with both hands.

‘Here is everything you need: Chevalier Quentin de Langés’s biography, an up-to-date passport stating that you returned to France in 1802 to take advantage of the amnesty of 6 Floréal, year 10, a signet ring with the Langes coat of arms - don’t wear it, keep it at home - the key to your lodgings, a little money, fake letters from your former mistress, who lives in Scotland, some works describing Edinburgh, where you lived in destitution, which is what forced you to return, some details of the regiments you served in -the 18th and 84th, which you know well - a list of favourite royalist sayings, a summary of the information supplied to us by Varencourt ... Learn it all by heart, then destroy anything that would give you away.’

‘Your Excellency, why don’t you use our own agents? They are accustomed to these kinds of exploits.’ ‘It’s too risky. Paris has become the meeting point for plotters and traitors. I am under no illusions: because of our difficulties, there are imperial officials and soldiers and dignitaries willing to betray us. I am certain that the names of many of our agents have been divulged to our enemies. We need new blood!’

‘New blood that you are prepared to spill—’

‘That’s enough!’

Talleyrand, on the other hand, seemed to approve. He said jovially, ‘Good! Repartee! I advise you to behave like that with the Swords of the King. Be proud and arrogant. Adopt an aristocratic superciliousness and you will fit right in!’

‘Yes, that’s true ...’ Joseph immediately agreed.

Margont tried to see how Talleyrand had pulled the puppet’s strings. Joseph continued as if nothing untoward had occurred. He was so accustomed to his own changes of tack that he no longer noticed them.

‘The civilian police will conduct the investigation. They must not know about you - there are leaks on their side as well. They will

submit regular reports to me, which I will copy and pass to a trustworthy man whom you will choose to assist you. Whoever that is will read them and then burn them.’

‘Perhaps he should eat the ashes joked Talleyrand.

Then he will relay to you the contents of the reports. I strongly advise you not to handle the reports yourself! Proceed as I have instructed. Your man should make himself known to my police by presenting himself at 9 Rue de la Fraternité, under the name of “Monsieur Cage”. He should ask to speak to Monsieur Natai, who will be the intermediary between you and me, and who will give copies of various documents to your man. You must never meet Monsieur Natai! Apart from that, you may act as you see fit. The only thing that matters is the result. Keep me informed by giving oral reports to your assistant, who should write them out and hand them to Monsieur Natai.’

Talleyrand put both hands on the pommel of his cane. He leant on it yet did not rise. His movements were like his words - it was hard to make out exactly what they meant.

‘Everyone in this inquiry must play their part: you will handle the royalists, the civilian police will handle other avenues and it will all be supervised by the personal police of His Majesty Joseph I. That sums up your first mission.'

‘Oh, so there’s a second one?’ Margont demanded crossly.

There was a noticeable heightening of tension. Joseph’s forehead creased in worry and the Prince de Bénévent tightened his grip on his cane. Both waited for the other to speak but, of course, it was Joseph who gave in first.

‘I referred just now to a bigger fish, Count Boris Kevlokine. He’s the Tsar’s main secret agent. For several months he has been hiding here in Paris and we absolutely
must
lay our hands on him.' ‘But no violence, no violence!’ intervened Talleyrand, emphasising each word by tapping his cane on the parquet.

‘That man is spying on us and assessing our forces. He’s trying to find out if the French people are ready to fight to the last man for the Emperor or if they would accept another government ... He runs Russian agents, forges relationships with the royalists, tries

to work out whether the return of a king to France would precipitate a second revolution, attempts to guess what the English, Prussian and Austrian spies milling about Paris are up to ... He’s capable, has access to unlimited funds and knows Paris inside out. The Tsar depends on him to help him formulate his policy towards us. And Count Kevlokine thinks that all-out war against us runs the risk of provoking a national uprising. So he’s in favour of a compromise. He’s a moderate!’

Joseph clasped his hands together as if he were imploring God to come to his aid.

‘Do you understand what is at stake, Lieutenant-Colonel? Our hope of victory lies in the dissolution of the coalition! The Saxons, Bavarians and Wurtembergers fear the dominating aspirations of the Prussians. The Prussians hate the Austrians because they also want to control the Germanic people, by reviving the Holy Roman Empire, but under their leadership. The Austrians hate the Russians, whose power rivals theirs. The Russians are in dispute with the Swedes over control of Finland. The Spanish rival the

Portuguese, particularly in South America. And most of these countries distrust the English. They have almost all fought against each other over something and they can’t agree on anything because of their opposing interests. Hatred for the Emperor and for republican ideals is the only thing holding their ludicrous alliance together. Each camp has its own ideas about the future of France. The Russians want to defeat Emperor Napoleon I but don’t know what regime to replace him with; the royalist emigres will only countenance Louis XVIII; the English also favour the Bourbons; Crown Prince Bernadotte of Sweden agrees that the monarchy should be restored but believes he should be crowned King of France; Austria would like a regency until the Aiglon is old enough to become Napoleon II, but of course it wants the regency to be controlled by Empress Marie-Louise because our emperor’s wife is also their emperor’s daughter; other camps want there to be a regency but on no account do they want it to be controlled by Marie-Louise ...’

Joseph paused. He was trying to gather his thoughts, which

Talleyrand did for him.

‘At the moment the Tsar is our most implacable enemy and we haven’t been able to win him over. His only thought is to seek revenge for Austerlitz, for the Battle of Borodino, for the loss of Moscow ... Unfortunately, each time negotiations start — which they do continually — our envoy, General Caulaincourt, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, is received by all the Allies at the same time. Of course the Allies want to prevent us from profiting from their lack of unity. So it’s impossible to meet just the Russians, or just the Austrians. What we need is the ear of the Tsar in private! Once we have that, we know exactly what to say: if the Emperor retains his throne, France will remain a strong country and that will diminish the margin for manoeuvre of Austria, Prussia and England - to the great benefit of Russia! We think this Count Kevlokine has the Tsar’s ear. If we arrest him, we can persuade him of the advantages of our approach; then we will free him and he will plead our cause with the Tsar, who will listen carefully because they have been friends since childhood and he holds the count in high esteem. And once Alexander stops thinking obsessively about revenge and starts to consider Russia’s long-term interests instead, then we’re in business - anything is possible! Since the Emperor’s recent victories the negotiations have gained some momentum. England, Austria and Prussia are now willing to consider the possibility that the Emperor will keep his throne, but with France reduced to its 1789 frontiers. We have to seize the moment. The Tsar is now the only one of our enemies who persists in resisting that solution. If we succeed in changing his mind, we will be able to achieve peace through diplomacy.’

Russia, Austria, Sweden, England, Prussia ... Margont was not accustomed to thinking on such a grand scale. He considered the world in terms of individuals. But he was aware of Talleyrand’s reputation and knew that he was an extremely skilled negotiator who really might be able to persuade the Tsar. He was one of the very few people left who could help Napoleon avoid disaster and prevent France from being invaded.

Joseph spoke again, irritated to hear Talleyrand expressing himself

clearly and convincingly whilst he himself had rambled and hesitated. It often happened that they would be walking side by side through the labyrinth of the politico-military situation. Then the Prince de Bénévent would let Joseph hurry down a cul-de-sac or fling himself against a closed door before saying mellifluously, ‘Let’s try this direction And they would be on their way again. Nevertheless, if his path was leading somewhere, only he knew exactly where.

‘Our best investigators are on Kevlokine’s trail: policemen, spies, traitors of every hue, diplomats who’ve rubbed elbows with him ... All the royalist groups in the capital are trying to make contact with him, seeking financial backing, information or goodness knows what. They also want to convince him to persuade the Tsar of the benefits of a restoration. And Kevlokine, for his part, is keen to meet the leaders of these groups, to help them stir up trouble and to evaluate whether Louis XVIII would be prepared to support the Tsar if he were crowned king. If the Swords of the King do succeed in getting in contact with him, you must tell us immediately! Your priority must be to learn as much as possible about Kevlokine to help us to arrest him.’

‘I thought my priority was to investigate Colonel Berle’s murder?’ Margont fumed.

Joseph closed his eyes briefly. He was truly becoming irritated by this man’s refusal to lie down like a doormat in front of him. He would have liked to choose someone else of the ‘Yes, Your Majesty’ variety. But there wasn’t such a person - all he had was Margont.

‘Lieutenant-Colonel, you will have to manage both tasks at the same time! All our bloodhounds are looking for Kevlokine, whilst you will concentrate on your inquiry. However, if you come across the Tsar’s agent, you must not let him get away! Monsieur le Prince de Bénévent ...'

Talleyrand nodded. ‘I’ve already met Kevlokine during the period when I was Minister for External Relations and when we were on better terms with the Russians ... He's forty-five, very stout, with a fleshy face and red lips. His hair is silver and he has pale blue eyes

with perpetual circles under them. He’s usually pale in contrast to his rosy cheeks - a sign of his fondness for drink - he gesticulates when he speaks ... He knows how to make himself charming. He speaks with a slight accent, which is particularly noticeable when he rolls his “r”s. He’s a brilliant mind. All that should be enough for you to recognise him should you happen to cross his path. Monsieur de Varencourt has never mentioned the name Kevlokine and you mustn’t ask him about him. We don’t want to run the risk of drawing his attention to Count Kevlokine. Where Monsieur de Varencourt is concerned, we prefer to let him come to us rather than to reveal our exact intentions by asking blundering questions.’

The interview was drawing to its close. Joseph told himself that Margont had had enough stick and now it was time to throw him a carrot.

‘What reward will you ask us for when you have successfully fulfilled your mission?’

Margont was surprised by the question but immediately rose to the occasion.

‘I would like permission to launch a newspaper, Your Excellency.’

A rebellion! Joseph looked like a parish priest whose penitent had just invoked the devil right there in the church.

Even Talleyrand could not hide his astonishment, but he recovered himself and said, Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer money, like everyone else? So much less dangerous ...’

‘No, permit me to insist. I would like to become a journalist. I have always loved words, ideas, debate, art and culture ... The—’ Joseph cut him off. ‘It’s impossible!’

The Prince de Bénévent added: ‘The best newspapers are those with blank pages. That way they don’t hurt anyone. Must I remind you of the principles of journalism under the Empire? The Emperor says something, that something becomes fact, and the journalists report it. Now you clearly lack the ability to repeat things like an echo, whilst passing them off as your own thoughts ...’ Joseph returned to safe territory. ‘You will receive five thousand francs! Double, if you enable us to lay our hands on Count

Kevlokine.’

That will allow you to finance your newspaper, Lieutenant-Colonel. In Louisiana or Siam ... Freedom of expression is a beautiful thing as long as you express what you are told to, or you do it a long way away.’

They were haggling over his reward. Undoubtedly these people spoke a different language from Margont. Joseph took a sheet of paper from his drawer and signed it. He applied his seal and held it out to Margont.

‘When one acts a part it is important to be able to prove who one really is ...’

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