The Orphan's Tale (43 page)

"
Then we'll be seeing you in hell," said the first voice. A moment later, le Noir's footsteps disappeared to the south.

Malet edged from behind the tree and gazed wide
-eyed into the darkness before him. So le Noir had left them and they were circling through the cemetery, were they, and only leaving two to guard the gate? Hm. He cast his mind over the layout and decided that the wall was too high to scale easily. The only way out was through the eastern gate, and it was guarded by only two

people.
Those two were in for a surprise.

Malet seemed to hear Cheat
-Death's rasping old voice as he made his silent way back through the cemetery: In a contest between predator and prey, it is the prey who turns to fight that is in the position of strength, for surprise is strength and it buys time. Never forget it: the weaker they think you, the stronger you really are. Always attack when they expect you to flee.

He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his coat and reached inside his jacket for his Russian dagger as he moved in among the monuments.

              **  **  **

"
Where do you think he went?" asked Edouard. He was only twenty-two, and not certain he liked what was happening.

"
Do I know?" demanded Villatte. "He's hard to figure out. Look, there's that hut over there - some old fellow's buried there, and they say he's got a lot of gold in the coffin with him. I'd give a monkey to get in there with a crowbar and a good, sturdy sack! Look, kid - keep watch while I take a leak!"

"
Don't be all night," said Edouard. "This place gives me the creeps!" He turned and looked nervously around at the silent monuments. He could hear Villatte behind the mausoleum, fiddling with buttons, no doubt - and then he froze. He thought he heard a cry. The cry was not repeated; instead, he heard a strange, gurgling sound. "Villatte?" he said. "Villatte? Are you all right?"

He went over to the mausoleum, but Villatte wasn
't there, and the side of the building looked strangely dark and wet, almost as though it had been splashed with paint -

Suddenly he knew beyond any doubt that Villatte was not all right, and he knew that he would be dead if he remained where he was.
He turned, sobbing with terror, and fled west, deeper within the cemetery.

             
**  **  **

They were standing where Malet thought they would be, half
-hidden in the shadows by the gate. He bent slightly, settled the corpse's arm more tightly about his neck, and supported it by the waist.

"
Get out of the way," he said, raising the timbre of his voice slightly. "He's hurt! That fellow in there's not human!"

It worked.
The two stood aside as he came through the gate, and by the time they had recognized him and moved forward to seize him, he had his pistol ready. He spun the corpse into the path of the closest man, thrust the muzzle of his pistol up under the ribcage of the second, and pulled the trigger.

The report of the gun was muffled by the assassin
's body; the man jerked and was suddenly limp. Malet shoved him aside, leveled his pistol at the other, and pulled the second trigger.

He heard shouts and pounding feet coming from the north and looked over his shoulder in their direction; his attackers were coming after him in force.
It was time to leave.

He heard a shuddering gasp and saw a form collapse the ground.
He slowly pushed himself to his feet and went to the man, already knowing what he would find.

Pierre le Noir was curled tightly on the ground, half turned away.
He was gasping, drawing great, wheezing breaths into his lungs. One hand was clenched against the ground under his head. The other was hidden from sight.

Le Noir raised his head and watched
Malet's approach over his shoulder. "Cheated!" he gasped. "Damn all - all - chances!" He fixed Malet with glazing eyes and a ghastly smile. "Twice - in my - sights - You have - the devil's - own luck!"

"
I have lived too long and seen too much to believe in luck." Malet's hand was pressed to his chest. "Well, you blooded me," he said. "You can take comfort from that. Why did you come back? To kill that English princess, Victoria? Is that what made you return even when I said you were a dead man if you did?"

Le Noir
's mouth twisted and he drew a hissing breath. He lifted his hand; it disappeared briefly before him. A moment later Malet's knife clattered upon the ground. "Questioning - time at - last," He gasped. "Well, you have - earned it. I am - a goner." He raised his head again. "Here - " he said. " - turn me over - so I can - speak. Something to - say to you - "

Malet put his right hand in his coat pocket and took firm hold of his backup pistol as he turned the man.
And unhesitatingly emptied his pistol into le Noir's chest as the man tried to raise his own weapon.

"
You should have stayed dead," Malet said as the assassin subsided with a shudder, a thread of blood trailing from his mouth to spot the pavement beneath his head.

He bent and quickly checked le Noir
's pockets. If he could find anything to tie this murder attempt to Dracquet, his danger and pain would not be wasted. He straightened after a moment, shaking his head. Nothing. And they were still after him.

He was suddenly unutterably weary.
The breast of his jacket, shirt and coat were becoming sodden, and the wound itself, a long gash from right shoulder to left collarbone where the bullet had caught him just as he turned, was beginning to throb. He was far from friends and safety and the night was still young.

"
You knew you had to face a reckoning at my hands," he said to le Noir under his breath as he retrieved his dagger and wiped it on the skirts of the man's coat. He straightened and frowned at the blood on his hand and then looked up at the sky. "I warned you, you ignored me, and you have paid your shot just as I said you would," he said. "It only remains to see if I will be required to pay mine tonight."

He heard voices behind him; he whirled and ran down the slope of
Montmartre at top speed, taking the route that Larouche had followed, praying that no one would be awaiting him at the base of the butte. If all else failed, he could go into the sewer...

THE TRAP SPRUNG

"
Let me understand you," said Christien L'Eveque. "You were hiding in the cemetery because you didn't want to be killed by the target of your assassination attempt." He frowned over at his second, Junior Inspector Narcess. "Where did you find him, again?"

"
By the wall, at the farthest western end of the cemetery," Narcess answered.

"
Who were you trying to assassinate?" L'Eveque asked. His normally happy expression had vanished, to be replaced by a formidable scowl.

"
A c-cop," answered the prisoner.

"
And what was this cop's name?" L'Eveque persisted with ominous gentleness.

"
I don't know," the prisoner said. "He w-was tall, with a black coat - "

"
What!" gasped Narcess.

L
'Eveque looked decidedly grim. "You don't trouble to learn who you plan to kill, eh?" he said. "What else was there?"

"
A black coat with capes. We saw him at the summit of the butte, and took a shot at him, but he killed one of us there - "

"
There's an officer to see you, M. l'Inspecteur," said the O.O.D., putting his head in at the door, "He says it's urgent."

L
'Eveque rose and went to the door. He turned and said, "Keep him talking, Narcess." He went out and said to the O.O.D., "Where is he?"

The man nodded toward L
'Eveque's office. "In there," he said.

L
'Eveque found Georges Plougastel warming his hands before the stove just inside the door. He seemed pale and shaken. He looked up and nodded as L'Eveque entered.

"
What is it, Georges?" demanded L'Eveque.

"
That priceless idiot Malet has vanished!" said Plougastel.

"
What!"

"
He set a hare-brained trap for assassins! He was to be the bait - "

"
Oh no!"

"
Oh yes," Plougastel said grimly. "And Pierre le Noir was to be the quarry! Don't look at me like that, Christien. The man really is alive and in Paris. He - Malet - was to take supper at that restaurant that he likes at the Place du Chatelet. He was to eat there at eight and then walk to his home - and he has vanished into thin air!"

"
What? Wait a minute, it's ten-thirty now!"

"
That's right," said Plougastel. "He didn't show at the restaurant, and they started getting nervous. I went to the Prefecture, and Clerel said he left there at seven, or a little before. Clerel said he seemed distracted - "

"
Paul?"

"H
e got some bad news just before he left. One of those cops hurt during that uproar in the 5th the other night died, and his widow wrote Paul. Clerel found the note in the Prefect's desk. It must have knocked Paul off his stride."

L
'Eveque nodded thoughtfully. "Way off," he said. "But it's unlike him to drop things completely. What did he do when he left?"

"
He took a cab - God alone knows where! - and I was hoping to find him here! How can such a brilliant man be such a dunce? I told him he was being foolish and so - God save the mark! - did Emile Fougeroux! And we have had no word at all, no leads, nothing!"

"
Good God!" said L'Eveque.

"
That's not the worst of it," said Plougastel. "I had to go to the house of the Minister of Finance, interrupt a formal dinner, and tell Count d'Anglars what's happened."

L
'Eveque whistled soundlessly.

"
The man's really pissed off!" said Plougastel. "He told me he'd warned Paul against just such a bird-witted venture, and now it seems Paul's gone and ignored him. There's going to be hell to pay! By God, Christien, if he's been kidnapped - ! It would kill me if anything's happened to him!"

"
He wasn't kidnapped," L'Eveque said grimly. "God pity his kidnappers if he had been! No, he was here, all right - "

Plougastel raised his hand to his mouth.
"'Was'?" he gasped. "Is he dead, then?"

"
Not dead," said L'Eveque. "Not yet."

"
Damn it, man, where is he, then?" demanded Plougastel.

"
I don't know," said L'Eveque. "But I think I know what happened. I have been questioning someone we brought in a half hour ago. We found him shivering and cowering in the cemetery, babbling that he didn't want to die. He just finished telling me that he was part of an assassination attempt. The target was a tall man in a black coat. A cop, he said - "

"
By God - !"

"
No, wait," said L'Eveque. "You don't understand yet! We have five bodies laid out on slabs in the morgue at the moment. One was shot at close range, two were shot point-blank - you can see powder burns around the wounds and the clothing's charred at the entry holes, too - and one had his throat slit. The last one had his chest shot to pieces, but it appears that he was knifed, too. This fellow looks familiar - he's got a mark on his chin - "

"
But that's Pierre le Noir!" Plougastel exclaimed.

"
So it would seem," l'Eveque agreed. "And all the bodies were found near the butte."

"
Paul's work?"

"
That's all it could be," said L'Eveque. "This fellow had others with him beside the five stiffs, and they're still after Paul. He must have fled - if only he had come to me! - I haven't a clue where he went. What if he's hurt?"

LIGHT AND SHADOWS

The quai de la Legion d
'Honneur parallels the north shore of the Seine for a quarter of a mile before it ends at the Pont de la Legion. Napoleon ordered the construction of the bridge in 1802 when he founded the Legion of Honor, and he mandated the renaming and refurbishing of the quai, as well. The bridge is a triumph of dressed stone and carved balustrades, and the quai matches it in elegance. Unfortunately, the quai, however elegantly built it may be, was still at that time an outlet for the old sewer.