‘Keep us informed,’ said Bourdeau. ‘But before you go, I’d like to ask you one last question: could this poison have been administered to Madame de Lastérieux by one of her two black servants from the West Indies?’
Semacgus thought this over for a moment. ‘It’s possible. The flora of those regions is highly diverse and therefore little known. But in that case, they would have had to bring it with them when they travelled to France. To what purpose? It would have had to be a long-premeditated crime, which seems to me quite a rash assumption to make! I must leave you, my dear Bourdeau. By the way, is Nicolas still at Versailles?’ Bourdeau looked at him in amazement.
‘Don’t be surprised, I went to Rue Montmartre this morning. He’d sent a message to Monsieur de Noblecourt saying he was at Versailles, staying with his friend La Borde. He must be fishing in the Grand Canal, the lucky fellow!’
Bourdeau and Nicolas both reacted worriedly to the mention of this mysterious messenger whom neither of them had dispatched.
Semacgus left without a glance at the clerk, who was stubbornly keeping his head down. Bourdeau waited a few moments for his steps to fade before he turned to Nicolas.
‘I’m sorry about what we’ve just heard,’ he said. ‘So, here we are, ready to get down to the job. The real investigation begins here, and I think the first thing we should do is question our two tropical birds. What do you think? Madame de Lastérieux’s servants must surely be our prime suspects. This business with the poisoned seeds could well be their doing. Do you know them well?’
‘Fairly well. I’ve been seeing them for the past year at Madame de Lastérieux’s house. They’re good servants. They can speak French, and have always struck me as being docile and discreet.’
‘Did Madame de Lastérieux treat them well?’
Nicolas’s momentary hesitation did not escape Bourdeau.
‘I think so … Although Julie could be harsh to them. She was rather influenced, during her stay in Guadeloupe, by the customs of the Creoles, who treat their slaves, for better or worse, like pieces of furniture. I got the impression, from the occasional complaint I overheard, that her two servants were hoping to be freed, but that she obstinately refused. She was very comfortable here, but wouldn’t have tolerated being abandoned by servants she had complete control over and only had to feed and clothe.’
‘Would being freed have brought an improvement to their situation?’
‘To them, it represented a hope that they might see their country again. Once freed, they couldn’t legally stay in France. They would have been forced to take passage at Le Havre. I’ll have to have another look at the legislation and then talk to you again. For example, our dear Awa, who prepares us such delicious suppers, was freed by Semacgus well before the edict of 1762; that’s why she’s allowed to stay on at his house in La Croix-Nivert.’
‘She wouldn’t abandon our friend for anything in the world,’ said Bourdeau, smiling. ‘She’d probably prefer to go back to servitude if that was the only way she could remain here. How old are they?’
‘Hard to say,’ replied Nicolas. ‘These natives tend to look young for a long time, then suddenly age. But Casimir can’t be more than twenty-five, and Julia about twenty.’
‘Are they married? Can they be?’
‘They can, being good Christians, but I’d swear they’ve never said vows before a priest.’
‘Do you think them capable of such a terrible crime?’
This time, Nicolas did not hesitate. ‘I cannot imagine those two dreaming up or even flirting with the idea of such an insane plan to get rid of their mistress. The means used, those mysterious foreign seeds, would have immediately given them away. I should also mention that Julia was recently baptised, and Madame de Lastérieux was her godmother. A relationship like that would make the crime even more unthinkable to these people.’
‘Open your eyes, Nicolas. You don’t seem aware of the gravity of the situation. I shan’t hide from you the fact that, if those two turn out to be innocent, your position wouldn’t look good to any magistrate who gets hold of the case. In fact, you’d make an ideal culprit. A deceived and rejected lover, they’d say, driven by jealousy to take an extreme course of action. They’d also observe that you knew the customs of the household and were in a position to throw suspicion on the servants. They might even go so far as to insinuate that you were after Madame de Lastérieux’s fortune …’
‘Stop it, Pierre. You’re worse than a procurator. I’m not in the dock yet.’
‘What I’m trying to say, Nicolas, is that we must be prepared for the worst. Do you know if Julie had made a will?’
‘She was still rather young to be thinking about it, though I do vaguely remember her mentioning the matter to me once. Her only relatives, she said, were some distant cousins. She thought it best to leave everything to a number of charities. It was her husband’s sudden death that had given her that idea.’
‘Do you know the name of her notary?’
‘It shouldn’t be too hard to find out. Someone relatively new to the city, like her, would usually choose the nearest one.’
‘If we find out who it is, we’ll have to talk to him. You know from experience how much useful information a will can sometimes contain. But the most urgent thing is to question the servants and the dinner guests. Do you think you can draw up a list?’
‘I can tell you how many there were without any problem. But who exactly they were will be more difficult to find out. When I arrived for the first time, late that afternoon, the people there, apart from Julie and the two servants, were Monsieur Balbastre, the organist of Notre Dame, a musician who was playing the pianoforte, and four young men playing whist. All a bit vague, as you see.’
‘Monsieur Balbastre may be able to tell us more,’ said Bourdeau. ‘Let’s draw up our plan of campaign. First, question Julia and Casimir, who are at the police station in Rue du Bac. Commissioner Monnaye’s in charge there. Have you ever met him? He’s always seemed to me to have rather a sharp tongue.’
‘That’s an understatement. I’ve heard of some very unfriendly remarks about me and some caustic writings in prose and verse about Monsieur de Sartine. If he’d seen them, it would have made his wig fall off.’
‘There’s no time to waste! Adjust your false belly – it’s dangling on the right-hand side – you look all lopsided!’
The door of the office suddenly burst open, and the Lieutenant General of Police appeared.
‘I don’t know if my wig’s likely to fall off,’ he cried. ‘But I’d like to point out that the position of Commissioner Le Floch, who is supposed – note that word, gentlemen – supposed to be recovering from his grief in a cocoon-like retreat within the royal palace, is definitely lopsided, not to say compromised.’
He came and stood in front of Nicolas.
‘Just look at this get-up! What a sight you are! A disguise like that wouldn’t look out of place on the stage. Anyone would be taken in by it. You ought to walk up and down the boulevard or display yourself at Ramponneau’s.2 Your career would take off immediately!’
Suddenly, his face