Another Small Kingdom (15 page)

‘Thank you, Jean, and be careful.'

Macleod left the room without looking back. At the bottom of the stairs he found the woman waiting with a candle.

‘I heard you coming down, sir, so I brought a light. Strange doings, sir, very strange, especially for a respectable house.'

‘Madame, something terrible has happened. Madame de Valois's husband has been murdered by intruders. She escaped with her life and has come here for shelter.'

A sly look came into the woman's eyes.

‘How terrible, M'sieur. How very terrible.'

‘Terrible indeed. What do you think we should do?'

She wasn't ready for that.

‘Do, sir? We?'

‘I think I should go and tell somebody. I think we should bring the authorities here.'

‘Oh no, sir. If she has come to us for help …'

Macleod waited but the woman had nothing more to offer. Hers was a limited imagination and didn't extend beyond spotting a chance to make a little money. As to how it might be made, she had to leave to others.

‘Perhaps you're right. Perhaps we should offer her shelter, a time to rest, to feel safe after her ordeal until she is ready to talk to someone in authority.'

‘Oh yes, sir, I think that would be the kindest thing to do. It would be hardly any trouble to look after the lady, hardly any trouble at all.'

Macleod pressed home his advantage.

‘No, you must get someone to help you.'

‘Help, sir, but I have time on my hands as it is. Bless you, sir, we'll need no extra help.'

‘Then it will be just ourselves who know she's here?'

‘Just us, sir, until she's better and able to talk to people.'

‘Then take this,' Macleod pulled a small purse out of his pocket, ‘it's not much but I'm sure there'll be more, plenty more, if Madame finds she is being well cared for and not bothered.' The woman handed him the candle and took the purse. She opened it then tucked it away. ‘Of course if even so much as a breath of a word was to let anyone know she was here, then her husband's murderers might come looking for her and, if that happened, I'm afraid we'd all end up with our throats cut.'

The woman's eyes grew large with fright.

‘Oh don't say so, sir.'

Macleod inclined his head down to her.

‘But I
do
say so, Madame. If a word of her presence is breathed abroad throats will be cut. I know it, in fact I'm sure of it.' He saw that she understood exactly what he was saying. ‘Now I must go out. There are things to do. Have you any brandy?'

‘A little, sir.'

He handed her back the candle.

‘Then after I'm gone take it up to Madame and then find her some clothes, yours or your daughter's, whichever fit best. Now get me a lantern: I must go out and see how things stand.'

The woman left him and a few minutes later came back with a lantern.

‘Thank you. I'm sure we have both done the right thing and both understand how we stand in this.'

‘Oh yes, M'sieur. You may rely on me.'

‘As you may rely on me that things will be just as I say they will be.'

Macleod left the house and set out on his way to rouse Jeremiah Jones and report that his mission, after all, had turned out to be a success.

Chapter Twenty-six

J
eremiah Jones was not best pleased to be roused so very early in the morning and listened with ill-concealed annoyance until Macleod had finished making his report.

‘Well, it's good news I suppose, but I wish you had brought it at some more reasonable hour.'

Macleod did nothing to hide the sarcasm from his voice.

‘I'm sorry, Jones, but I had the silly idea that what I was doing here was of some importance. I have the information I was sent to get and I have …'

‘But you haven't, have you? You haven't got the information. Madame de Valois has the information, or so she says.'

‘But I have Marie, that is I have Madame de Valois, and can deliver her to you.'

‘Good God, man, what would I do with her? I'm the representative of the government of America, a very minor one to be sure, but a representative nonetheless. What would I want with a woman who may have just murdered her husband and his lover?'

‘She did not kill them. They were killed by assassins.'

Jeremiah Jones pulled his robe more tightly round him and leaned forward.

‘A woman you hardly know comes alone after midnight to your rooms and tells you that her husband and his lover have been killed in their bed, while she has managed to walk away unharmed, and you believe her when she tells you that they were the victims of assassination?'

Macleod took his point.

‘But she told me she knew about the plot.'

‘And what, exactly did she tell you?'

‘That there is a plan to overthrow the government. That she has the names of the men involved, American names.'

‘I see.'

‘Men of the highest position.'

‘Yes, hmm, highest position.'

‘She says they're planning to steal America.'

‘Steal America? I see. Tell me Macleod, had you been drinking?'

Macleod didn't like saying it but it needed to be said.

‘Wine with my meal.' Jones leaned back and waited. ‘And a glass or two of brandy later.' Jones waited. ‘Then more brandy. Perhaps a little too much brandy.'

Jones seemed satisfied.

‘Yes, I think I do see. Well, you're the one who's got her, so you're the one who will have to keep her and find out one way or another if there's anything more to her story than the ramblings you've brought me tonight. See to that first, Macleod, and after that you may do as you see fit.'

‘What do you mean, do as I see fit?'

‘Macleod, you've been a booby once tonight, don't be one a second time or you will try my patience too high. If she knows something, get it out of her and, if you get it then she has no further value to us and can be disposed of. Do I make myself clear?'

Unfortunately he had made himself abundantly clear.

‘You do.'

‘Good.' Jones stood up. ‘Now, if you have no objection I will return to my bed.' Macleod stood and turned to leave. ‘One moment.' Macleod stopped. ‘Give me your papers.' Jones held out his hand. Macleod looked at him.

‘My papers?'

‘Yes, give them to me.'

‘What papers?'

‘Great heavens, man, are you sure it was only half a bottle? Your identification, any papers you carry that prove who you are.' Jones shook his waiting, outstretched hand impatiently. ‘You do carry papers?'

‘Yes, I have several letters of credit and …'

‘A letter of credit will do.'

Reluctantly Macleod pulled out some papers, sorted through them and handed one over to Jones who quickly glanced at it, then folded it and put it in his robe pocket.

‘Don't worry, I'm not going to steal from you. I will use this as identification for a man I will send to Washington. It will ensure he gets access to the General as quickly as possible. He will report that, according to the wife, de Valois and St Clair, an intimate of her husband, were involved with others in a plot to overthrow the government. He will say that you are interrogating Madame de Valois and will report as soon as the interrogation is complete.'

Macleod ignored Jones's error in including de Valois in the plot.

‘You say you are returning to Washington. Why can't you make the report yourself?'

Jones paused before answering.

‘The army must have been different in your day, Macleod.'

‘Different?'

‘When it was obviously common practice to ask your seniors to explain their actions to you?'

Macleod accepted the rebuke.

‘Shall I go now?'

‘Do, and by the time you get back let's hope Madame de Valois hasn't thought better of running to a stranger with a story a five-year-old would find hard to swallow and gone on her way looking for some other booby to gull.'

Walking back to his rooms he thought things over. He was sure Marie had told the truth, but why did he think so? Was it a pretty face, a clever act, or was it that he wanted to believe? No, he had met de Valois and St Clair, and he could believe that what she said of them was too palpably true. And if she was putting on an act then she was indeed a great actress. He had seen hysteria before and he had seen it tonight. Something had happened which had terrified her. His thoughts turned to Jones. Why had he been so dismissive of the whole thing? De Valois might have been a popinjay but St Clair fitted perfectly the description of the man he had been sent to look out for. And why take the letter of credit? Why not just send someone or, as he was leaving anyway, why not go himself? And there was something else, something Jones had said, but it wouldn't come back. Macleod walked on deep in thought asking himself questions for which he had no answers. Outside the front door the words of Jones came back,
she has probably gone on her way.
Macleod opened the front door and ran up the stairs to the door of his rooms. It was open. He hurried in. The landlady turned and looked at him. No one else was in the room.

‘Where is Madame de Valois?'

Before the landlady could answer the door of the bedroom opened and Marie came out dressed in a mop cap with a shawl over a dress of coarse, thick, off-white material. She smiled at Macleod, came into the room and spun round.

‘Well, Jean, will it do? Do I still look like that grand lady Marie Christine de Valois, the best-dressed lady in New Orleans?'

Macleod, relieved, turned to the landlady and held out his lantern.

‘Thank you, you may go now. Look out some more clothes and bring them up packed as if you yourself were going on a journey.'

The woman took the lantern.

‘As I would do it for myself?'

‘Yes.'

‘Very good, sir. If you say so.'

She left the room closing the door behind her.

Marie stood and looked at Macleod.

‘You did not go to my house, did you?'

‘No.'

‘Did you go somewhere to find out what to do with me?'

‘Yes.'

‘I see.' She sat down. ‘And what is it you have been instructed to do?'

‘Find out what you know, if anything.'

‘Then.'

‘Dispose of you.'

‘Kill me?'

‘Killing you would be one way of disposing of you.'

‘I see.'

‘No, you don't see. And neither do I see, I wish to God I did but I don't.'

She looked up at him.

‘Can you tell me anything about who you are or why you came to New Orleans?'

‘No.'

‘Not even who sent you? The French, the British, the Americans?'

‘No.'

‘And will you do what you have been told to do?'

‘Yes. I have no choice.'

She looked down at her hands in her lap.

‘No, we never have any choice, do we? We are told, and we do what we are told. My Church tells me that we are free because we have been given the greatest of all gifts by an all-merciful God, the gift of free will. And because we have that great gift we are always free, free to do exactly as we are told.'

‘Marie, you must tell me what you know. After that I will dispose of you, that is to say, you will disappear. Madame de Valois will cease to exist. She will be disposed of.'

She raised her head.

‘You would disobey?'

‘No, never disobey. Obey in my own way perhaps, but never disobey.'

She smiled.

‘Were you educated by the Jesuits perhaps?'

‘No, not by the Jesuits. Why do you ask?'

‘Oh, it's just that you what you said sounded a little like a Jesuit,
disobey in my own way but never disobey.
My mother had a Jesuit Confessor. I liked to talk with him when I was a girl. Life was never simple the way he described it, more of a puzzle, but a puzzle always capable of manipulation. The secret was to know the right words, no, not the right words, the right way to use the words. There is always sin but, if you know the right way to use the words, there can also be forgiveness. My mother said …'

Macleod broke through her rambling.

‘Marie, you must tell me what you know and then we must get away from here.'

‘To the British? It has to be someone I can trust to keep me safe. It has to be the British.'

‘If it has to be the British then so be it.'

‘To Jamaica?'

Macleod had thought about that and had his lie ready.

‘No, it cannot be Jamaica or any other place in the Caribbean.'

‘But why, they are so close?'

‘That is the very reason why. Marie, by now your husband will have been found dead in bed beside his dead lover. You have fled the house and disappeared. What will people think?' And he saw that Marie had indeed begun to realise what they would think. Her mind was now working rationally and he need make no further explanation. ‘They will be looking for you, and when they don't find you they will watch the docks. If we ship out as man and wife heading back to Boston we may get past them.'

‘Boston?'

‘As far as anyone at the docks is concerned we will be going home to Boston. Once there I'm sure you will be safe and from there you can go north and tell what you know to the British.'

She was thinking about it.

‘But Boston is far away. It will take so long.'

‘It is the only safe way, and it is best that you are far away from here. Trust me, Marie.'

‘I want to trust you, Jean, and as you are the only one who can help me, perhaps I must trust you, but if I tell you what I know, how can I be sure what you will do? After I come here for help you go to someone who tells you to dispose of me, really dispose of me. You must see how difficult it is for me.'

Macleod did indeed see it. What he didn't see was what more he could do.

‘Marie, we do not have much time, even as we speak this thing moves on. Either you will trust me or you will not. The choice is yours.'

It wasn't much, but as she had no other choice in the matter, it was enough.

‘I will try to trust you. You must decide what to do. I am in your hands.'

She lowered her head and looked again at her hands folded in her lap.

God's teeth, thought Macleod, either she's the most wonderful actress in the world or the most wonderful woman and damn me if I can tell which it is.

‘All that matters at the moment is that we get out of New Orleans. If we get on a ship headed north we can talk about trusting me or whatever you know about this conspiracy then. First try to get some sleep. I'll book passage for us on any boat headed north to any port where we can get a ship to Boston. In Boston, when you are sure that you are safe, you can make up your mind what you want to do.'

Marie looked up.

‘Thank you, Jean.'

She stood up.

‘Now go to bed and try to sleep.'

‘Yes, I will try.'

Marie went to the bedroom and Macleod watched the door close. Suddenly he felt infinitely weary, as if all energy had been drained from him. He fell into a chair. The brandy, the sudden action, the tension and excitement all combined so that, without even realising it, he closed his eyes and in a matter of minutes began to snore.