Chapitre Huit

La Solution d'Assassin

Beatrice

"My son! My son, Amadeus!" Lucien threw a candlestick at the spymaster. The candlestick did not hit is mark, but rather dented itself on the hard floor. It was not clear to Beatrice whether or not her husband had intended to miss.

Fitzroy ducked behind the globe in the study. "There were dozens of assassins and spies at work! My people had their hands full!"

"I don't want to hear excuses!" shouted Lucien, grabbing a book off the shelf and throwing it at Fitzroy. "That assassin walked right into the box where Leon and Corina sat with their backs to him. Had Leon been the target, he'd be dead!" Lucien shoved the globe out of the way.

"Peace, dear!" Beatrice said, touching Lucien's shoulder. "Let Monsieur Fitzroy explain!"

Lucien glared at Beatrice. In return she gave him a soft, pleading look. He groaned and ran his nails over his face. "Fine! Fitzroy, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Fitzroy adjusted his coat. "On the way to the theatre I noticed some people following you. From what I could tell you were their target, so I had my people dispatch them. Once we were inside, I noticed some of the police officers on duty watching Duke Jehan. My people investigated the matter and found dead men, police, whose bodies had been hidden in the gutters. Naturally, we killed the impostors."

Fitzroy ran his fingertips along the contours of the mountains on the globe. "Then an assassin came after your box. I dispatched him before he could get to you. Then another. Then another. It must have been while I was hiding that last body that Corina's killer decided to strike, for when I came back I noticed that the curtain to their box was open, and I saw her body. I thought that Leon had been kidnapped, so I notified the police so that they would lock up every exit while my agents tried to head off the assassin in the tunnels under the city."

"And that choice cost us dearly!" said Lucien. "Because of you, Leon was arrested. Unbelievable!"

"With all due respect, your grace," said Fitzroy, bowing his head, "It was a choice made much earlier which led to this."

Lucien sneered at Fitzroy. "And that would be?"

Beatrice braced herself for what Fitzroy was about to say. It seemed unlikely that Lucien would be pleased with what he heard.

"Do you recall," Fitzroy began, "When we were first planning Leon and Corina's little tete a tete? Do you recall where I said they should sit?"

Lucien clenched his fists and pulled back to strike Fitzroy, but then sighed and hung his head. "Down in the rows, with everyone else."

"Yes, your grace," said Fitzroy. "An assassin would have to be an idiot to attempt to kill them there."

"So, this is my fault?" Lucien asked in a defeated tone. Beatrice wrapped an arm around him for comfort. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"No," said Fitzroy. "Not in the strictest sense, but actions have consequences. In this case, the consequences were Corina's death and Leon's arrest."

"Let's not assign blame," said Beatrice, raising her hands to pacify them both. "Really, if we start recriminations then where will it end? We could blame Duke Jehan for the fact that his agents failed in their duty as well. We could blame the police for not keeping a sharper eye on the theatre. We could even blame Leon for failing to protect Corina, his future wife." Lucien looked at her with sad eyes. Beatrice shrugged. "Or blame Corina for being too engrossed in the play to notice someone sneaking up on her."

"Personally," Fitzroy shrugged, "I prefer to blame the people who plotted all this."

"A wise decision," said Beatrice, cracking a slight smile, "if the temptation for blame is so strong. But, more importantly, we need to focus on getting Leon out of jail. Fitzroy, what do you know about the assassins so far?"

"Well," Fitzroy began, "My people looked them over once everything had calmed down. It occurred to us that most of them had been fairly sloppy in their work, so we suspected that those we'd killed might not be professionals. On three of their bodies we discovered tattoos, the sort a soldier might get."

"A soldier?" Lucien repeated.

Fitzroy nodded. "More specifically," he pointed to a spot on the globe, "A battalion that used to fight barbarians in this region here."

Beatrice leaned in until she could see the spot at which Fitzroy was pointing. "Viteliu? Strange... we haven't fought any battles against them in..."

"Ten years," Fitzroy interrupted. "Which means that the attempted killers were likely veterans, ones who had been discharged and now struggled to make a living within the Empire. You know what this tells us about our enemy?"

Lucien shook his head.

"Do you know, my lady?" Fitzroy asked.

"They didn't want to spend a lot of money on this," said Beatrice.

"Of course!" Lucien snapped his fingers. "They didn't have much to spend, so they paid for unemployed veterans to do their dirty work! They probably anticipated that the veterans would fail, being that they're former soldiers, not assassins..."

"And then they sent in a real professional to kill Corina," said Fitzroy, nodding. "The other killers were a distraction. Corina was the only target who mattered. So, our enemy is a lower lord, one who hates both the Armand family and the Renart family."

"Could it have been one of Duke Jehan's cousins?" Beatrice asked. "Think about it. Leon was courting Corina. If he succeeded, he would have become heir to the Armand estate. However, if Duke Jehan dies without a male heir then the Empress will choose one of his cousins to replace him."

"It could be," said Lucien, pulling on his beard. "But they just as easily could have attacked Leon himself, for that matter. Perhaps this plot came from the same people who tried to kill Leon the night of the masquerade ball."

"It adds up," said Fitzroy, pointing to Lucien. "Most of the other agents at work that night worked in pairs. The one who got so close to Leon was on his own, which made it even harder to figure out who he was working for. However, it also suggests that whomever sent him could only afford to risk one agent that night." Fitzroy scratched his head and pulled a bit of fuzz from his hair. "More importantly, it suggests that his masters were not at the ball."

"How does that follow?" Beatrice raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Truly," said Lucien, an equally-skeptical look on his face. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"Well, think about it," said Fitzroy. "When you go to other noble's masquerades you bring your agents with you. You do this for two reasons; attack and defense. You want them to unearth secrets and kill your rivals, but you also want some agents who will protect you and your family. The man who attempted to kill Leon had been operating on his own from the beginning, from what my agents and the servants have gathered. That means that whatever aristocrat sent him was not at the ball."

"Lord Bourdon wasn't there," said Beatrice, a chill creeping over her. "Could it be that Bourdon was planning to trick Andre into marrying his daughter, Josseline, for that long? It would be a cunning plot, eliminate the eldest son, marry his daughter to the second son, and then his grandchild would inherit the Renart Estate."

"It's possible," said Lucien, stroking his beard and musing upon it. "But the Bourdon's were not the only family who spurned our invitation. The Empress herself did not attend. Let us hope we have not fallen out of favor with her."

"Again," said Fitzroy, shaking his head, "whoever's doing this probably can't afford as much as we, so they have to be clever about it. If the Empress wanted to kill us..." Fitzroy nervously chuckled, "I dare say we would all be dead."

"Unless she intends to frame someone else," said Lucien. "Be careful never to assume too much. What of Beatrice's theory? You have agents spying on the Bourdons, correct? What have they learned?"

"The Bourdons are not plotting anything against us anymore," said Fitzroy. "At least, not that my agents have overheard. Count Bourdon's son has been training with a sword, possibly hoping to fight Leon again, but his father has warned him not to. In any event, he cannot legally challenge Leon to a duel without cause."

"Nor can he challenge him so long as Leon is in jail," said Beatrice, almost cracking a smile. "Now, what is our plan to get Leon out of this? We know he's innocent, but we need to prove it." Beatrice rubbed her neck nervously and sighed. "Fitzroy, do you think your agents can find Corina's killer?"

"Not in time for the trial," said Fitzroy. "Well... not the real killer, anyway."

Lucien smiled wickedly. Beatrice shivered at the sight. "What are you plotting now?"

"Hear me out, if you will," said Fitzroy, raising his hands defensively. "We know that Baron Corbeau is plotting against the Empress, and that he is working with a gang based in the capital. I have agents in the capital city's police. I could direct them to arrest a member of this gang, tell him that we know of the plot to kill the Empress. We'll just be sure to make it clear to him that if he confesses to the murder of Lady Corina instead, we will not reveal the plot."

"What incentive would this man have to confess to a murder rather than an assassination plot?" Beatrice asked, shaking her head. "It seems to me he'd face the hangman's noose either way."

"Not entirely true," said Lucien, raising his index finger. "He will face the noose for killing Corina, sure. He'll face far worse if we reveal his plot against the Empress. If he's brought before the Imperial Court on charges of high treason they'll torture him, take his whole family prisoner, and eventually hang every member of his gang. Even if he has no loyalty to his gang or his family he'll still face a most unpleasant interrogation."

Beatrice's stomach plummeted at the thought of an innocent man hanging for Corina's death. Though she attempted to remind herself that plotting against the Empress was guilt enough. "What if he tells them everything they want to know just under the threat of torture?"

Both Lucien and Fitzroy were silent for a moment, and exchanged glances.

Finally, Fitzroy said, "The Imperial Agents like to be... thorough..."

Beatrice felt cold as she slowly realized the implications of Fitzroy's comment.

"They'll ensure he tells them everything. The torture will happen." Lucien's voice was hauntingly flat and he shivered. Beatrice couldn't help but wonder if he'd witnessed such an interrogation before. "This helps with the other problem, too. The assassination plot against the Empress. Once a member of the gang has been arrested they will worry that they've been discovered, and soon turn to blaming each other. They'll be convinced there's a traitor in their midst, paranoid. That will at least delay their plans."

"What if he calls our bluff?" Beatrice asked. "Think about it, you said we don't want their plan exposed just yet, we want to see who's really behind it. What if he knows that?"

Lucien laughed. "Criminals and lowlifes like him choose that way of life because they are uneducated louts! Even Leon didn't understand why we wouldn't tell the Empress about the threat to her life, do you really think some villain will figure it out?"

Be careful never to assume too much. Lucien's own words rang in Beatrice's head, but she said nothing.

He shrugged his shoulders. "However, if he does, we'll have to fall back on bribing the judge. Far more expensive, but every judge has a price."

"An excellent plan, your grace," said Fitzroy with a bow. "I will see to it right away, and let you know if we fail to coerce one of the conspirators."

Beatrice was sometimes appalled at just how upside-down the world truly was. She believed Leon's story, of course he was not a murderer. Yet, because he attempted to do what he thought was right, he was the prime suspect.

The police, she had often been told, did not care so much about catching criminals so much as they cared about making the people feel safe. An officer had once told her that they caught as few as one in ten of the criminals they investigated, so they needed to make an example of the one to discourage anyone else from taking up a life of crime.

Because it was all about appearances, the family of even an innocent man was forced to deceive the court and bribe the judge to keep him away from the gallows.

No wonder Leon didn't go to the police first, thought Beatrice, bitterly, they don't care about justice!

"Mother?"

She awoke from her near-trance as Andre descended the staircase into the foyer, where she stood.

"Mother, why do you look so ill?" asked Andre, still closing up his shirt. The young man was never discreet about his affairs.

"I'm just worried, I guess," said Beatrice, looking away.

"About Leon?"

"Yes, about your brother."

Andre tilted his head to one side and gave her a smug smile. "You always worry about him so. Why is that?"

What manner of silly question was that? "He is my son," Beatrice said.

"But he's not," said Andre, descending the last two steps, that smug expression never leaving his face. "You did not give birth to him."

"I married his father," said Beatrice, frowning at Andre. "That makes him my son by law. I have every right to worry."

"You don't fret so over me," said Andre, barely above a whisper. "When husbands, brothers, or fathers of women I've seduced came after me you did not look so pale. Neither were you so pale when my father faced them in duels, or negotiated for them to leave me alone. Only when Leon was threatened... Only when he crossed swords with my enemies did you worry."

Beatrice felt herself go cold at the sound of his words. Was it really so obvious? If so, how did she not notice it earlier herself?

"Why do you love him so much more than you do me, mother?" Andre asked, feigning a child's whimper.

"For one thing he doesn't whine," said Beatrice, smirking at him.

"Oh? Humor is your shield, then?" Andre laughed. "Listen..." He glanced back and forth to make sure that no one was nearby who would overhear him, futile as that sometimes seemed. "I know why. And I also know that it's mutual. Frankly, I don't blame you. You and Leon make far more sense than you and my father ever will."

"Andre, don't speak like that!" said Beatrice, placing two fingers to his lips. "Your father and I are very much in love."

"You don't need to lie to me," said Andre, brushing her hand away. "I know how these marriage alliances work. I only want to tell you that if I've figured out how you feel about Leon, I can't be the only one who's noticed. You ought to be more cautious."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Beatrice, standing straight and sniffling.

"That's the spirit," said Andre, smiling at her. He took her hand and kissed it. "I do hope you feel better, Mother. Don't worry, Father won't abandon Leon. You'll get your favorite son back soon enough. The question is; what happens then?"