The Dorset House Affair (22 page)

Colonel Kershaw stood up, and made as though to retrieve his hat. Then he suddenly sat down again. He looked worried.

‘I shall have to change my plan,’ he said. ‘I’ve already
approached Baron Augustiniak, and he has readily agreed to return the Alsace List to the French Foreign Office without the French or German Governments being aware of the matter. There will be a massive sigh of relief in diplomatic circles, and the fact of the list’s existence will simply be transposed into a rumour that proved to be false.

‘But now, Box, I think that I’ll tackle the problem of retrieving the list myself. I will deliver it personally to Baron Augustiniak on our return to London – I say “our”, because I take it that you’ll throw in your lot with me. You usually do.’

‘I will, sir.’

‘Good man. Now, let me tell you about a man called Norbert, who has been dragged into the business by this villain.’ Briefly, Kershaw outlined the substance of the telegraph message that he had received earlier in the day. ‘You see how it complicates matters? There will be
two
recipients of Alsace Lists lurking around the Palace of Versailles, one in the vicinity of the Queen’s Cottage, and the other in some location as yet unknown. It will be a tricky business to keep an eye on both, and render them
harmless
without arousing public alarm. Remember, the Palace of Versailles will probably be crowded with visitors.

‘Can you obtain a warrant of arrest within the next twenty-four hours?’ Kershaw continued. ‘When we run De Bellefort to ground, you can have the pleasure of taking him into custody. Will you have to let the Quai D’Orsay know of your intention?’

‘No, sir. We will alert the Prefecture in Paris. They always
cooperate
in matters of this nature – murder, I mean.’

‘Good, good…. Me, you, Major Blythe, and perhaps a couple of others, should be sufficient. We don’t want a crowd. Box, don’t bring any other officers with you to escort De Bellefort back to London, apart from Sergeant Knollys. Leave that task to
my
people. Will you come to see me, here, tomorrow afternoon? By then, I will have worked out a complete plan, and will have acquired the necessary documents for our journey to France.’

He rose from his chair, and this time he retrieved his hat and gloves.

‘This is not going to be one of our great adventures, Box,’ he said, ‘but it is vitally important for those wretched men in Alsace and Lorraine, and possibly for the continuing peace of Europe. Our mission must succeed.’

15

Monseigneur at Versailles

T
he sky above Versailles hung like a canopy of faded blue, tinged with a darkening grey. To the east, great black thunder clouds, each with its burden of pent-up rain, hovered above Saint-Germain-en-Laye, sinister and threatening. The air was hot and still, presaging a massive storm to come.

The heavy coach had stopped at a turn in the road from Fontenay-le-Fleury. Colonel Kershaw, for the moment oblivious of his companions, looked out of the window at the great Palace of Versailles spread out below them, stretching away towards the horizon through the wooded countryside.

The palace of Louis XIV, the Sun King, was so stupendous in its grandeur that mere words were insufficient to describe it. It was more like a town than a palace, a magical world of fountains, pavilions, elegant mansions and whimsical follies, all clustered around the great château, infinitely grander than Buckingham Palace, and one of the architectural wonders of the world.

Had an eagle chosen that dull and threatening Saturday morning to wheel and hover high above the château, what would it have seen? Beyond the great palace, to the west, a series of artificial lakes and fountains, flanked by formal gardens, all leading to the
stupendous
Grand Canal. On all sides, groves, with statues and pyramids, more fountains, orangeries, obelisks, and then, at the end of one long transverse arm of the Grand Canal, lay the Châteaux of the
Trianon – elegant mansions in their own grounds. Beyond these, in the extreme northern corner of the vast estate, was the Queen’s Cottage, with its adjacent model farm and water-mill.

Into this dream land, of the Bourbon Kings of France, a sizeable part of a nation’s wealth had been poured, to show the world the grandeur and almost divine power of the French sovereigns. The work had engaged the Sun King himself until the end of his long reign, and had then been continued by his grandson, Louis XV, and
his
grandson, Louis XVI, adding here, improving there, rebuilding, reshaping, for a period of 107 years.

When you walked through the countless rooms and halls of the palace, you were stunned and overawed by so much gold, so much marble and crystal, so many chambers and cabinets contrived for the entertainment of mistresses and favourites; never-ending building and re-building, more and more lavish decoration….

And then came the fatal year of 1789, when the real, tough world of eighteenth-century France burst through the walls of the Bourbon paradise, and within a short space of time carried off the Royal squanderers of the nation’s wealth, uncomprehending, to the guillotine.

Colonel Kershaw started guiltily, and looked at his
companions
. It was not often that he sank into a reverie, especially when there was work afoot. Sitting with him in the coach, and waiting patiently for him to speak, were Inspector Box, Sergeant Knollys, and Major Ronald Blythe. Outside, on the road, the rough-
and-ready
Mr Ames held the bridle of the leading horse. At a word from Kershaw, he would drive them down to the public entrance to the palace.

‘Now, gentlemen,’ said Kershaw, ‘there are three men here today who will engage our attention. First, the Alsatian banker, Monsieur Norbert. He, of course, is privy to our plans, and has already met Major Blythe. He doesn’t know the rest of us at all. Norbert is a difficult proposition, because we don’t know where in this vast estate De Bellefort plans to meet him.’

‘That’s true, I’m afraid,’ said Blythe. ‘Norbert promised to let me know as soon as De Bellefort told him, but the poor man was evidently too frightened to communicate with me. My own guess is that they will meet somewhere in the main palace building, probably in one of the more public rooms. We shall have to see.’

‘That will be your task, Sergeant Knollys,’ said Kershaw. ‘Major Blythe will be in charge of the Norbert operation, and will point him out to you as soon as he gets sight of him. Then, once De Bellefort has made the exchange and left the scene, I want you, Knollys, to take charge of Norbert and get him – and his fake Alsace List – out of the way. Incidentally, he speaks English of a sort. Major Blythe will give you further details.

‘Now, Mr Box,’ Kershaw continued, ‘you are the fly in the
ointment
, because, of course, De Bellefort knows you, and if he catches sight of you, he’ll panic, and probably call the whole thing off. Your task here today is to arrest the fellow for murder once we’ve secured him. Meanwhile, what I want you to do is shadow De Bellefort when he leaves the château and makes his way through the estate to the Queen’s Cottage. I know how skilled you are at shadowing, and I’m quite certain that De Bellefort will not see you.’

‘He will not, sir,’ Box replied. ‘But I shall see him, never fear.’

When working for Colonel Kershaw, you didn’t grumble if you weren’t given a leading assignment. Stalking their quarry was hardly a starring role, but it wouldn’t do to throw a tantrum about it.

‘And now,’ Kershaw continued, ‘we come to Herr Pfeifer. We are quite unknown to him, I’m relieved to say. He knows about Major Blythe, but he’s never seen him. I’ve no doubt that Pfeifer’s a nasty piece of goods, but we have no quarrel with him, and he mustn’t be harmed – well, not harmed too badly. He and De Bellefort intend to meet at, or in, the Queen’s Cottage at the far northern limit of the estate, but we don’t know
when
. That is why we have come here so early this morning, before the palace is open to visitors. Come, gentlemen, it’s time for us to get to work.’

‘Sir,’ asked Box, ‘are the French authorities involved in any way in this venture? Do they know what we are up to?’

Box saw the swift glance that Kershaw and Blythe exchanged. His questions was evidently one they had hoped he would not ask.

‘Box,’ said Colonel Kershaw, ‘that list – the Alsace List – was compiled by the French Government. It’s purpose was to furnish certain officers of that government with a list of former French citizens who intended to commit acts of treason against what is now their own country – Germany. If the German authorities knew for certain that the list originated from the French Government, then a very tense political situation would ensue. I thought I’d explained all this to you when we met in the London Pavilion.’

‘You did, sir, but—’

‘So you see,’ Kershaw continued, ‘the French are anxious not to appear at all in this. If they made any move to assist us, the Germans would soon know about it. We will receive no official co-operation from the French authorities, Box, but at the same time, we will meet with no official obstruction.’

Kershaw leaned out of the coach window, and called to the man who was holding the horses.

‘Mr Ames,’ he said, ‘we’re ready now to go down to the palace gates.’

In a few moments the coach began its rumbling descent of the steep road leading into Versailles.

‘Sir,’ said Box, ‘you say that Major Blythe, Sergeant Knollys and myself are going to deal with the business of Monsieur Norbert and his fake list.’

‘Yes,’ said Kershaw.

‘And what are
you
going to do, sir?’

‘Me? Oh, didn’t I tell you?’ said Kershaw, glancing once again at Blythe, who had repressed a smile. ‘I’m going to take up my position at the Queen’s Cottage, to make quite sure that I catch De Bellefort and Herr Pfeifer in the act, if I may put it like that.
Arrangements have been made, you know, and I’m hoping that all will go well. By then, no doubt, you will be in the vicinity, having shadowed De Bellefort from the palace, and then you can make your arrest. I shall be taking Mr Ames with me. He’s an
invaluable
companion on missions of this sort.’

Soon, the heavy coach reached the grand parterre facing the gilded gates of the Palace of Versailles, and the four men alighted.

Although it was only a quarter to nine, there was a considerable crowd of visitors assembled at the barriers, waiting for the palace to open. Box joined Major Blythe and Sergeant Knollys in an orderly line of people waiting to buy tickets. He turned round for a moment to ask Colonel Kershaw a question, but both the Colonel and Mr Ames had disappeared.

It was as they entered the War Drawing-Room that Box caught sight of Alain de Bellefort. The three pursuers, Box, Knollys and Major Blythe, had joined a party of visitors led by an official guide, who had conducted them through the dizzying splendours of six of the State Apartments. He had found it difficult to give his full attention to the task in hand, as his eye was constantly attracted to a gilded cornice, a framed portrait of one or other of the kings or his offspring. The grandeur of it all was
overwhelming
. It was a far cry from the Spartan austerities of King James’s Rents.

The guide spoke in French, but when he had finished describing a particular room, he gave a brief epitome first in English and then in German. ‘We are now entering the War Drawing-Room,’ he had said and, as they came into the gilded marble chamber, Box saw De Bellefort standing in the midst of another group, who were on the point of leaving for the adjacent Hall of Mirrors. He alerted Major Blythe, and contrived to lose himself among the press of visitors.

De Bellefort was formally dressed in a black suit and greatcoat,
and carried a silk hat in his hand. He towered above the others in the room, and more than one visitor glanced curiously at the haughty, pockmarked figure in their midst. No doubt, thought Box, the Alsace List, and the fraudulent copy that he had made in order to deceive the banker Norbert, were concealed in the
capacious
pockets of his greatcoat.

‘The enormous medallion above the fireplace,’ the guide was saying, ‘depicts the victory of Louis XIV over the Dutch in 1678. Note the fine gilded bas-reliefs surrounding it. The mirrored doors on either side of the fireplace are false.’

As they examined the room, the previous party passed out through the archway leading to the next apartment. ‘For God’s sake, Box,’ whispered Major Blythe, ‘let’s not lose him now! Stop listening to the guide, stop looking at all these stupendous things, and keep your eye on De Bellefort. Surely he’ll meet up with Norbert soon?’

The Chevalier Alain de Bellefort passed out of the War
Drawing-Room
and into the Hall of Mirrors. He heard the awed gasps of the other visitors as they admired the grand hall, with its gilded and vaulted ceiling, its profusion of massive crystal chandeliers, and its wonderful old mirrors, set into what seemed like tall window frames. Voices echoed, footsteps rang out, and the guide waited in silence for the exclamations of wonder to cease.

De Bellefort wondered whether the guide would mention that it was here, in 1870, that Bismarck had proclaimed the
establishment
of the German Empire. It had been a calculated insult and humiliation for defeated France. No; the guide was a Frenchman, who would have better taste than to allude to his country’s defeat.

‘It was here, in the Hall of Mirrors,’ said the guide, ‘that Louis XIV had the silver throne erected when he was to receive
particularly
distinguished foreign visitors. Balls and receptions were also held here. In the days of the Ancien Régime, letters and petitions
from the nobles were placed here for the king to see while he was on his way to chapel. We will pause for five minutes, so that you can examine the many treasures of this famous hall.’