The Orphan's Tale (21 page)

Pelletan's eyes were bright with something Malet was touched to recognize as hero
-worship. "If it's enough for you," he said, "then it's certainly enough for me!"

Malet did not laugh, though he found the young man's admiration a little amusing.
Instead, he poured him another small glass of wine, cautioned him about the dangers of drinking while on duty, and wondered if he might be able to entice him to leave Guerin's arrondissement and come to the 12th.

              MASTER AND APPRENTICE

Malet sat back in the Prefect's chair and smiled down at the inlaid music box that had been brought to the Prefecture while he was away. It had been wrapped in silver paper, and a note had been enclosed with it:

Welcome back.

Rosette

He wound the box and listened to the brisk waltz, his face warmed by a smile.
She had always known how to heal an ache.

He heard a tapping on the door.
"Come in," he said, and smiled again as Clerel entered, his arms full of roses. "You found them," he said. "I didn't dare hope they'd be there."

"
I went to the marché aux fleurs, M. Chief Inspector, and searched for the roses with the red and white petals," Clerel said. "I bought all they had - three dozen - and the one purple aster, as well. Here's the receipt, and your change."

Malet rose and went over to look at the roses.
They were the most beautiful he had seen, pure white on the outside, with the inner part of each petal a deep, cherry-red. "Yes," he said. "Those were the ones."

"
Do you wish to have them delivered somewhere?" Clerel asked with elaborate casualness.

Malet's eyes lightened in a smile.
"Why, yes, my dear Clerel," he said. "This is the address - " he took a fold of paper with an address on it, copied it quickly, and then, after a moment's thought, wrote:

For you, always. You will be sorely missed.

"There," he said. "That's the address and the message. Will you be dispatching one of the office boys?"

"
Those chatterboxes?" asked Clerel, his voice for once devoid of its pomposity. "No. I will take them myself. It will be a pleasure."

"
Thank you," said Malet. "You're a prince among men."

Clerel bowed and left.

Malet looked down at the music box, closed it, and then took up paper and pen and began to write:

My dear Christien:

I am providing you with an opportunity to indulge your passion for free meals. Meet me at the prefecture at 5:00 p.m., and we shall dine together, on me. I need hardly ask that you bring a sharp appetite, since I have never known you not to be hungry. My pockets will be to let, I do not doubt, but I am confident that the amusement attendant upon an evening's conversation with you will make up for it.

Yours, etc.

Malet

That done, he folded the note, sealed it, and went out in search of Sergeant Guillart.
Once the note was delivered, he could sit back and ponder the British succession.

             
**  **  **

"
You seem to have this odd notion that you need only crook your finger and your friends'll come running!" L'Eveque said some hours later as he raised a glass of champagne to his lips.

"
Crooking my finger has nothing to do with it," Malet said with a smile. "I don't deceive myself: it is the prospect of free food that draws them. And you were certainly moving briskly when you came into my offices."

L'Eveque grinned.
"Let's say that the food isn't a deterrent," he said. "But I think you know, Paul, that I'd happily eat a meal of hard crackers and salt pork, provided that they came with your company."

"
I'd never be so poor a host." Malet set his glass down as the waiter arrived with the first course of oysters on the half-shell. He watched L'Eveque down the four before him and then passed his plate over.

"
Why aren't you eating them?" L'Eveque demanded.

"
I hate oysters," Malet replied.

"
Then why on earth did you order them?" L'Eveque asked, exasperated.

"
To let you eat mine," Malet replied. "Go ahead: you like them, though God alone knows why!" He lifted his glass of champagne again and sipped. "I understand that you're doing well with your precinct," he said. "His Excellency is very happy with your performance."

L'Eveque sat back to allow the waiter to remove the two empty plates, and then frowned down at the soup that was set in their place.
"M. d'Anglars is very kind," he said. "I am happy where I am, and I like my people." He paused and added, "I must thank you again, Paul, for recommending me and insisting on the promotion. I hated to leave you."

Malet tasted the soup and shook his head.
"No," he said, "You were wasted where you were. I was sorry to lose you, but the force was the gainer in the end." He added with a sigh, "I do seem fated to lose my best people, though..."

L'Eveque impulsively stretched out his hand to Malet.
"My dear sir!" he exclaimed, "Never their friendship! I shouldn't have to tell you that!"

Malet's brows contracted slightly at that, though he took L'Eveque's hand after a moment's hesitation and gripped it.
"No," he said. "You don't have to tell me at all, Christien. You have been a good friend over the years, if something of an annoyance from time to time!"

"
I do my humble best," L'Eveque said in such a tone of unctuous sanctimony that Malet threw him a glare which set him to laughing. He said nothing as the waiter removed the empty soup cups, set a course of creamed salmon in pastry before them, filled their glasses with a light sauterne, and then withdrew.

Malet snorted and cut into the salmon.

"So tell me," said L'Eveque after a few minutes of silence. "Why did you invite me to dine with you?"

"
Can't I give myself the pleasure of your chatter one evening out of three hundred?" Malet asked plaintively. "Must there be a reason for everything I do?"

"
No, there mustn't," L'Eveque said with precision, "But I have noticed that there usually is. What is it, Paul?"

Malet cut off a particularly golden piece of pastry with the edge of his fork, speared it, and ate it in a leisurely manner.

L'Eveque waited.

Malet finally said,
"I spoke with His Excellency today."

"
I trust he was in good health," L'Eveque said blandly.

Malet threw him a impatient look but replied,
"He's quite well, Christien - and he had some interesting things to tell me about you."

"
Oh?"

"
Yes. He told me, for example, that you have been gathering information for him in a matter that closely concerns the 18th arrondissement and its Chief Inspector. Such a matter interests me very much at the moment, for it ties in closely with a matter I am investigating."

"
I see," said L'Eveque.

"
No, you don't," said Malet, who had finished the fish course. "But you will shortly. I asked Count d'Anglars' permission to discuss it with you, and he granted it." He took a folded and sealed slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to L'Eveque. "Here's a note from him to that effect," he said, "And I suggest you burn it after you read it."

L'Eveque frowned at the note and then transferred his frown to Malet's face.
"I don't need an order from headquarters to confide in you, Paul," he said. "If I thought the matter could benefit from your advice, I'd have no hesitation in going to you. You know this: I was, after all, one of the misfits that you took under your wing and taught."

Malet shrugged.
"Don't be so prickly, Christien," he said. "Maybe you'd confide in me: but it would be most improper, and you know it. You can speak without hesitation now, and never fear that my regard for M. Guerin will prompt me to use that information improperly - "

"
As though you ever would!"

"I
might be tempted. So: read the note and stop delaying. And finish your fish."

L'Eveque opened the note, read it, and then held it in the flame of one of the candles that sat on the table, and watched it burn for a moment before dropping it on his bread plate.
"All right," he said. "Ask what you want."

Malet nodded to the waiter, who was hovering at a distance, and waited until the next course had been set before them and their glasses filled with an aged
Beaujolais. "I am handling a matter that Inspector de Saint-Légère brought to my attention," he said. "I became interested in the man while investigating this matter, and I have read most of his reports."

"
He's a fine man," said L'Eveque. "I have known him since before Waterloo. We were in the 1st Cuirassiers together, and we kept in touch after I was invalided from the army."

"
You recommended him for the force," Malet said.

"
Yes, I did. He wanted to return to France, and I had a job for him if he wanted it."

"
Which he did," Malet said, taking up the fork and the carving knife that had been brought with the roast. "As I said, I read his reports after speaking with him about the matter he brought to my attention. Something he said gave me pause, and I decided to look into it. I waved a red flag today: I spent this morning walking his beat under my real name. Did you know he's not far from Constant Dracquet's house? And then, this afternoon, I sent some of the Prefecture's special agents to Saint-Légère's old assignment and had them ask a few questions of the shopkeepers around there. What I learned is very disturbing, and I understand, from His Excellency, that you're looking into a similar matter for him."

He cut a slice of meat, laid it almost gently down on the platter, and said,
"It appears that there's quite a protection racket going on in the 18th arrondissement."

"
That's right," L'Eveque answered. "I discovered it not long after I was promoted to my precinct. It was quite a shock, coming from your command to Guerin's and encountering it. I have been assembling names, dates, amounts of money - cooperating with Guerin, outwardly. I have been making my reports regularly to the Count. So far, I don't think anyone suspects anything. They think my hands are as filthy as everyone else's."

Malet frowned and lowered the fork and carving knife for a moment.
"You're playing a very dangerous game, Christien," he said quietly. "The stakes could be your life. Please be careful."

"
You're a fine one to talk," said L'Eveque.

"
I am different. I used to think that I was born to fight criminals, and I would die fighting them."

"
I trust you have come to your senses," L'Eveque said. When Malet did not respond, he added, "M. le Comte is the soul of courtesy. I certainly don't object to making my reports available to you, if you wish."

Malet had been carving the roast as they were speaking.
He handed L'Eveque a plate full of sliced beef, set several small boiled potatoes beside them, and then set to work assembling a plate for himself. "Thank you," he said. "That's what I wanted. And now, since I am investigating the matter myself, I want you to stop your work on it."

"W
e'll see what His Excellency says," L'Eveque said blandly.

"
That's fair. And it's all I wanted to hear."

"
And for this you bought me a supper!" L'Eveque said, smiling again.

"
It's been a while since I have seen you," Malet said. He dipped the salt spoon in the saltcellar and scattered salt across his meat, then spooned some of the juices over it. "I don't see you often enough." He cut a bite of meat and chewed it.

"
We do keep busy, don't we?" L'Eveque said.

Malet smiled and sipped his wine.
"There's another matter," he said.

L'Eveque set his fork down.
"Do you know," he said, "Somehow I rather thought there'd be."

"
No, it has to do with Saint-Légère.  He's very good. Whether or not our investigations into our respective matters get any results, I think it wrong that the man should be stuck where he is. It's obvious to me that Guerin wants to force him out of the Police. I don't know how he managed to last as long as he has: I can be patient, but only a week of that beat would have me ready to resign. At any rate, I am thinking of setting things in motion to have him brought to my arrondissement. The proposal would be a promotion, so we'd be following proper procedure. Do you think he will refuse if I approach him?"