Devil's Eye (20 page)

“
What would they do to turn back the clock?” he thought. “And how it heaven’s name could they even think to accomplish it?”

Alekseev knew one thing for sure. After years of frustration he was resolved to seek answers outside the framework of his own government. He had picked Colonel Christopher Caine whom he had observed closely at a Smithsonian reception several nights earlier. The Colonel had displayed apparent interest in a devil exhibit from a Lithuanian museum. He might be receptive to what Alekseev might say, since it was quite incredulous for the average person to accept or comprehend.

He also knew that Colonel Caine was a member of some ultra
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secret, extra
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legal government action group called “Omega.”

The Russian Embassy’s eyes and ears had inexplicably lost track of Colonel Caine in the last several days, but it had maintained its surveillance of the young assistant professor who was with him at the Smithsonian’s reception and had left in his company. Oleg Alekseev could not accept this as coincidence. She was of particular continuing interest to the Russian, because her uncle was one of the last covert combatants fighting the Soviet Union’s occupation of Eastern Europe after World War II, had spent years of imprisonment in Siberia and now, in the United States, had become active again through his writings. As such he continued to be dangerous or useful, depending on the political winds. Since the uncle clearly idolized her, Alekseev saw the niece as a potential pawn in his quest.

She had to be followed.

Chapter 19

George Washington University was a short drive along Constitution Avenue from the National Museum of Natural History. The Campus was seven blocks west of the White House and just north of the U.S. Department of State in historic Foggy Bottom.

Laura Mitchell was formulating her lecture for that afternoon. She knew the material, but had to get the Smithsonian episode out of her mind—at least for now. She regretted the short time she had for preparation, arriving just in time to greet the students enrolled in her seminar.

The scowls of the two men in the museum elevator crossed her mind again and sent a visible shudder through her body.

“
Are you all right, Dr. Mitchell?” a student next to her asked.

“
Thanks, Abigail, I’m okay,” she said softly.

Dr. Mitchell took her place among them in a rectangle of conference tables; her tailored pants suit the only indication that she was the professor among the twenty young men and women present.

“
A funny thing happened on my way to class,” she said as she settled in.

The students looked her way in anticipation.

She liked to present her material as an exploration, a common educational journey where she revealed facts and concepts and welcomed the students to arrive at sound conclusions based on readings she had assigned. She was not didactic—often theatrical— and encouraged discussion and logical dissent, even if it meant modifying her own themes.

Therefore, she avoided PowerPoint presentations as too constraining and clichéd. Her well
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heeled students were too sophisticated to follow along on a presentation in a darkened room reading from a screen instead of a book. That they can do on their own, she reasoned. As long as they were together, they would interact, if Dr. Laura Mitchell had anything to say about it. Her students (more likely their parents) were paying too much in tuition to accept mediocre presentations. And many of them would be following historical precedent of the prestigious university in the heart of Washington and go on to high level government and societal positions.

“
I was at the Smithsonian this morning.” She thought of recounting the episode of the two men in the elevator, maybe even the attack outside the museum the night before, thwarted by the new acquaintance she could not get out of her mind, but then thought better of it.

“
I happened to see a pair of Marie Antoinette’s diamond earrings,” she said.

“
Was she wearing them when they took off her head?” one of the men interjected to mixed laughter and groans from his classmates.

“
Uhh, No, Mr. Powell, she wasn’t. But, funny you should mention it. The story goes that they did let her hold her cherished Papillion to the end.”

“
Her dog?”

“
Yes.”

“
They’re a type of Spaniel,” one of the women volunteered. “They were a favorite of the French Court. You know, the ones with the butterfly ears. My aunt shows them at the Westminster Dog Show.”

“
Very interesting, Amy,” Dr. Mitchell replied. “Then you probably also know, there was another favorite breed at the French Court— the Pyrenean Mountain Dog.”

“
Yes,” Amy Cabot replied. “The AKC calls it the Great Pyrenees here.”

Some of the students looked around quizzically.

Amy noticed Dr. Mitchell’s prodding gaze and continued. “It’s a big, white sentry dog. It looks like a fluffy Labrador Retriever. They guarded flocks from wolves.”

“
Well,” Dr. Mitchell intoned dramatically, “there was a particular dog around the Court at Versailles belonging to a country priest. The priest was Father Pierre Dumas, an itinerant monk. He was said to be a very charismatic and imposing figure. He was an occasional confessor to Queen Marie Antoinette. Father Dumas had a large, gray dog rumored at Court to be a cross between a Great Pyrenees and a wolf. The dog’s name was ‘Monsieur’. He was also rumored to be a familiar of the priest.”

The looks on the faces of the students indicated surprise and keen interest.

“
Whoa, that’s a new one,” blurted Corey Wynn, a divinity student.

“
Marie Antoinette had many detractors and enemies,” Dr. Mitchell replied. “Her reign is filled with intrigues and innuendos, much of them, unfortunately, fueled by her own behavior.”

“
What about this monk and his familiar?” the divinity student queried with skeptical interest. “A wizard or devil worshiper?”

“
Apparently so, Corey. It’s a good thing the Age of Enlightenment was taking hold in France and Europe generally at the time,” Dr. Mitchell explained. “Otherwise, the likes of Father Dumas could well have been burned at the stake. The witchcraft hysteria was finally ebbing less than a hundred years before he came on the scene. But witchcraft in the late Eighteenth Century was still very prevalent.”

“
It still is today,” another student announced.

Her classmates turned to her with bemused suspicion.

“
I saw a program on public TV,” she said defensively.

The peaked interest in the seminar class became palpable.

“
What about this ‘familiar’ you mentioned?” asked another student.

“
Corey. Would you like to explain?” Dr. Mitchell invited.

“
A familiar is an attendant demon attached to a witch. They’re like a servant. Familiars often took the shape of human beings, but typically they were animals: birds, cats, dogs, goats and the like. They’re supposed to help bewitch enemies.”

“
The role of Father Dumas in the life of Marie Antoinette and the Court at Versailles prior to the French Revolution is vague and mysterious,” Dr. Mitchell continued. “There is very little source material. And most that exists is in obscure writings and indirect references from letters related to other subjects.”

“
Why is that?” a student across from her asked, reflecting everyone’s unspoken train of thought.

“
For a number of reasons, Timothy, First, let’s remember that the Catholic Church had overwhelming influence in France prior to the Revolution. That influence—including the power to tax, if you remember—is one of the causes of the Revolution itself. Second, the Church hierarchy identified with their noble peers, so there was underlying discrimination against rural clergy, even though they were in the same Church. A lowly country priest—a traveling monk—having influence at Court, was a major affront to church nobles. So they would try to downplay that kind of information. And this whole situation is exacerbated by the fact that Marie Antoinette for many years ostracized the Cardinal of France—the nobleman Louis de Rohan.”

She looked around the seminar class, inviting explanation, since they had covered the influential relationship of the Church—the so called, First Estate—and the Monarchy.

Abigail Hitchcock, daughter of a network television producer, perfunctorily raised her hand and began: “Right. Louis Rene Eduoard de Rohan,” she said proudly, remembering the full name, “came from a very noble lineage. But he was not liked at Court. He had been a diplomat to Austria. While there he criticized Marie’s freewheeling lifestyle to the Austrian Queen, who happened to be Marie Antoinette’s mother. This naturally enraged Marie.”

“
That’s right, Abigail. So her ostracism was a monumental snub against Cardinal de Rohan, the highest clergyman of the Church in France, who was also known as a man about town—or about the Court, so to speak,” the professor explained. “He wanted to become one of the King’s ministers, like other officials of the Church already were—especially in financial affairs—but Marie Antoinette treated him as an outcast, because of his insulting criticisms to her mother. According to contemporary accounts, she didn’t speak to the Cardinal for more than ten years.”

“
That’s kind of a long time. It’s very undiplomatic for a Queen.” Tom Stuart, who was majoring in political science, ventured.

“
True, Tom,” Dr. Mitchell responded. “But it appears that her attitude was encouraged by Father Dumas. Unfortunately, it helped bring about her eventual downfall— the downfall of the Monarchy— and the bloody upheaval of the French Revolution.”

“
That sounds just like that weird monk Rasputin in the Court of Czar Nicholas and Alexandra just before the Russian Revolution in Nineteen
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seventeen,” Tom observed. “He was supposed to have had a lot of influence over events at the Russian Court leading to the Revolution. And no one really knows where he came from.”

Laura Mitchell appeared preoccupied for a moment. “It is an eerie similarity, isn’t it?” she finally said, “although more than a century apart. I’m glad you brought that up, Tom.” She had been so absorbed in her research on revolutionary France, that she paid scant attention to the obvious parallel. She wondered if her uncle ever made any such connections in his conspiracy theories, but then concluded that the French monk was too obscure a figure to come to the attention of historians.

“
How did this country priest manage to get into the Court at Versailles?” Abigail asked, reflecting the obvious thoughts of the other students.

“
No one really knows,” Dr. Mitchell slowly replied. “But we do know that Marie Antoinette often said she longed for the simple life. You’ll remember that she is depicted in several portraits dressed in muslin or peasant attire. That depiction itself caused animosity towards her as being improper for a queen. At some time she visited the countryside around Versailles and met Father Dumas, who evidently gained significant influence over her. She loved dogs and Monsieur, no doubt, drew her attention.”

Dr. Mitchell related that a diary found by a member of the French Underground in a hidden vault exposed by a bombing during World War II, had belonged to one of Marie Antoinette’s ladies in waiting. “It was kept in the family of one of the members of the Resistance. The diary has some telling passages.”

She cast her eyes upward in thought, as if capturing the words. “I’m loosely quoting now—‘the monk Dumas was capable of mysterious enchantment’—and—‘his familiar named Monsieur kept everyone at bay when the priest was in the presence of the Queen.’ A very typical entry is: ‘Father Dumas once again imposed upon Her Royal Highness to change a decision advised by her ministers.’ Or something close to that effect, since I’m going from memory.”

The students were listening with rapt attention.

“
Did you see the diary?”

“
I did read parts of it. In fact I’m including it in some historical analysis on turning points in France’s road to Revolution. You know, the research you’re helping me with,” she said with a sincere smile.

“
I’m giving you full credit.”

The students shared a friendly laugh.

Dr. Laura Mitchell glanced at the wall clock. “You know, I was going to cover something entirely different today, but Jimmy Powell’s comment was a valid distraction.”