H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre (9 page)

Chapter 13

I

“I need to know more about these two Americans!”  Marcil was becoming angry.  He knew that a Royal Patent had been found, but he didn’t know how or where.  He didn’t know if the Americans knew that the Patent was part of the Royal Regalia.  All he knew was that he didn’t know much. 

“Get in their house LeDuc, put a microphone in each of the rooms.  Search the place, maybe the fools left it laying out.  Just get me something or I’ll have your manhood in Paris and the rest of you at the bottom of the ocean.  Do you understand me?” Marcil growled into his phone. 

LeDuc was not an exceptional man.  He didn’t consider himself anything other than a deputy director of a museum.  In that he was wrong.  Raymond LeDuc may not have had a classic case of dissociative identity disorder, but he did possess two personalities: one the mild mannered deputy academic, and on occasion he was a cold-blooded killer.  His friends in the Action Françoise had recognized that trait long ago.  And now he was forever tied to that organization.  How he’d gotten mixed up with this Action Françoise idiot was only a distant memory.  Now, here he was years later with blood on his hands and unable to find a way back to that simpler time.  He hated Marcil.  He hated being afraid.  He hated his other personality. 

“Yes, Monsieur Marcil.  We shall be hearing everything the couple does and says.”  LeDuc thought about that for a brief moment, then smiled in spite of his predicament.  This might be entertaining if nothing else.  He hung up the phone and thought over the instructions he’d been given.  Bug their house?  It was madness.  He didn’t know how to bug a house.  He only knew one person in the United States he could ask to do this little favor and the man was past his prime.  This was not good, not good at all.  And, he’d have to stay here in this factory city even longer.  Detroit was no Paris.  Finally, LeDuc left his hotel room and found the elevator.  Arriving at the ground floor he passed a small coffee bar and approached the desk clerk.  As he walked he glanced around the lobby.  Nothing unusual, no one knew him here and no one cared who he was. 

“Good afternoon,” he exclaimed.  “I need to extend my stay a few more days.”

II

Marcil hung up his desk phone with a crash.  At least some phones could still be slammed.  He thought for a moment, composed himself and decided it best to send a report to the Council.  Surely they would be excited by the possible recover of such an important piece of Royal lineage. 

He removed the tedious papers and reports lying on his desk pad.  He then pulled a soft cloth from a desk drawer and dusted the desktop.  Satisfied it was clean he removed a piece of thick, cream coloured stationary from his right desk drawer.  Pulling open the drawer on the lower left, he removed a quill and ink well.  The Council accepted only formal, old world penmanship, and only quill and ink was used.  He dipped the quill in the ink well and began to write.  His letter was addressed to the Action Françoise’s Council de Governors.  He struggled with the wording.  It took two drafts and well over an hour, but he was finally pleased with the result.  Occasionally, he paused and thought of how close he’d been to membership the last time, but there was always the issue of royal blood.  This time surely….

III

Returning to his room LeDuc opened his smart phone, paged through the list of contacts and finally found the one man he knew in the United States.  Touching the telephone number he listened as the phone rang.  Claude Poteau had been a reliable and useful tool in the States for the past forty years.  Now in his late sixties Claude was beginning to slow down, nevertheless, he was all that Ray had.  The phone connected and LeDuc heard the cigarette-choked grunt of Claude Poteau. 

“Eh?  Oui, qui is-il?

“It’s Ray, I need some work.”  The conversation went about as Ray figured it would: difficult, full of expletives and generally unsatisfying.

He disconnected the line and sat on his bed.  How could he end his relationship with Marcil and the AF?  He couldn’t could he?  Damn.

Chapter 14

Jim and Eve brought brioche and croissants and were seated once again in Jean’s office.

“Last night after we left the restaurant I returned here to do a little additional research.”  Jean began.  She had their attention.  Jim and Eve immediately sat their brioche and café-au-lait on the table and stared at her. 

“I have long held my suspicions.  Last night I assembled my evidence; it is weak, and I have not published about this…yet.  But, I believe I have discovered something very important.” 

They were sitting around Jean’s small office table.  Jean stood and crossed to a bookshelf behind her desk and, after a short search removed a large, slim volume.  While walking back to the table she opened the index, dragged her finger down the page, simultaneously positioning herself between Jim and Eve’s chairs.  Then, with evident satisfaction she opened the text to a full page picture and laid it on the table between them. 

“This is a painting of the coronation of Louie the sixteenth’s father, Louis the fifteenth.  Here you can see the blessing.”

She placed her finger on the page.  “Here you see the Cardinal making the sign of the Cross on Louis’ forehead.  That’s the “unction”.

Jim and Eve bent over the book. 

“But look here in the Cardinal’s hand.”  She moved her finger to the Cardinal’s left hand.  “Notice that the vial is held in a square receptacle made of gold?”

Jim glanced at Eve.  She was as engrossed in this as he was.  “Yes, and are those jewels on the square thing?” Eve asked. 

“I think they are,” said Jean.  “Now, I want you to look here.”  She pointed to the altar behind the Cardinal.  “See the crown?  That’s the Charlemagne Coronation Crown.  See the four fleur-de-lis?”  Both Jim and Eve were nodding their heads. 

Jean then returned to her desk and picked up a large, atlas sized book.  A ruler protruded from the top, evidently previously put there as a bookmark.  She opened the book to the ruler and sat it on top of the first volume between Jim and Eve. 

“Here is a painting of the coronation of Louis XIII.”  She pointed to a large painting of the King leaving the altar.  He was proceeded by several young girls spreading flower pedals, four page boys carrying various objects, an armored knight holding a sword vertically with both hands, with the Cardinal and several priests leading the procession. 

“I believe that is the Sword of Charlemagne.” She said, her index finger stabbing the center of the page. 

Jim was becoming increasingly confused.  “Okay, I get all this Jean, but I just don’t see what it has to do with our Patent?” 

“A fair question.” Jean replied.  “Let me continue and it will be clear.”  At that she went to a file, pulled out a folder and extracted a CD.  She inserted the CD into her computer, grabbed her ‘cheaters’, glanced at Eve and Jim and put on the glasses.  After a moment she found what she was looking for. 

“Here, here is a statement by the head of the royal guard at his trial for thievery.” 

“What did he steal?” Jim asked.

“Probably nothing.  But many items that the Committee expected to find in the palace at Versailles were not there,” Jean said.  “Since they couldn’t find these things they had to blame someone.  This poor soul was blamed, given a fair trial and beheaded.  Many scholars now believe that members of the Committee simply made off with these treasures.”

Jim and Eve were now becoming absorbed with this story, much like when they had heard the first half of the tale from Bill Rousseau.  Jean continued, “In any case, the guard related at his trial that the regalia as it was called always stayed with the Patents.  These items were considered inseparable.  That’s because taken together they bestowed the throne to the next in line.” 

She eyed them closely.  Jim and Eve stared back expectantly.  Finally, she realized they had missed her point. 

“The Patents were kept with the sword, coronation crown and the Holy Ampoule.  Where one was there was the other.  I have always been mystified at how the Louvre could have the Sword, the Ampoule and the Crown but not the Patent.  The fact that you have what certainly appears to be the legitimate Royal Patent lends credence to research which questions the authenticity of the Regalia currently on display in the Louvre.”

“There’s more,” said Dr. Somme.  “There was a certain French General that was a favorite of King Louis XVI.  Initially, he sided with his King and fought the revolution.  At one point being wounded in the leg.  We know this from his testimony at trial in 1794.” 

“Trial?” asked Eve.

“Yes,” Jean said.  “You see, General Nicholaus Luckner switched sides.  When the General Assembly was first called he supported the King.  As things got out of control and the King was deposed, he publicly supported the revolution.  About that time the remaining European monarchies realized this idea of the people running the government could spread.”

“But what could they do?” Eve asked

“They declared war,” said Jim.  “She’s talking about the Napoleonic wars.”

“Not actually true,” said Jean.  “But very close.  The period is called the French Revolutionary Wars.  And, the war was perfect for General Luckner.  He avoided the Committee for Public Safety, kept his head and helped the Army against the invasion.  In 1791 he became a Marshal of France.  The next year he became the Commander of the Army of the North.  France did well and he was part of the reason.  He had several victories.  But, his luck turned.  He suffered a terrible defeat, lost a lot of ground and eventually was removed from active command.”

“All good things come to an end,” grinned Jim.

Jean didn’t even pause.  “Things got worse for him.  After his defeat Luckner was made generalissimo with orders to build a Reserve Army.  That didn’t work out well since the countryside had been picked clean of men and boys.  There was no one left with which to build an Army.  But, that didn’t work as an excuse and he was eventually removed.  He was getting on in years by this time; he was 71 or 72, something like that.  In any case, he retired and went to Paris.  Fate was still against him.  The revolutionary group in power, called the Jacobins, didn’t trust him and in less than a year he was arrested by the Revolutionary Tribunal.  His trial went the same as all other trials of the day, and he was sentenced to death. He died on the guillotine in Paris in 1794.” 

“Wow,” said Eve.  “I should have taken more world history, I thought the French Revolution was just about ‘Let them eat cake’ and Napoleon, I didn’t know about this other stuff.” 

“Now, here’s the interesting thing.  At his trial, a Colonel spoke against him.  The Colonel said that in the early days of the Revolution he had been a Lieutenant under General Luckner.  He had helped move several items of extreme value, a woman and a child out of the Château du Versailles during the opening days of the convention.  It was in an ambush by members of one of the communes that the General was wounded in the leg.”

Jim thought for a moment.  “You think that is how the Patent got out of the Palace?” 

“Yes, I do,” said Professor Somme.

Jim and Eve glanced at each other.  “This is all very interesting Jean, and probably very important to the historical record, but I thought we were trying to validate the Patent.  What am I missing?”  Jim was becoming increasingly curious about where Jean’s long narrative was taking them. 

“This all has to do with the Patent.  But it’s bigger than just the Patent.”  Jean’s excitement could not be tamed.  She returned to her bookshelf and removed a large catalog nearly three inches thick. 

“This is the catalog of items held by the Louvre,” she said as she flipped open to a specific page and laid the book between Jim and Eve.  “This is the Coronation Crown in the Louvre museum.”  Then she uncovered the first book she had shown Jim and Eve.  Placing her right index finger on the painting and her left index finger on the catalog she asked, “Do these look at all similar to you?” 

Jim and Eve were dumbstruck.  “They’ve got the wrong crown,” Eve whispered. 

Jean wasn’t through.  “Now look at this.”  She pulled the second text back to the edge of the table and next to Eve.  “This is what the Louvre calls the Sword of Charlemagne.  It doesn’t look like this one does it?” she said as she pointed at the catalog.  “They’ve got the wrong sword too.” 

What about the Ampoule?”  Jim asked.

Jean’s excitement was evident.  “During the final crazy days of the Jacobins they trotted out the Holy Ampoule and destroyed it in public.  They beat it with hammers.  One piece was recovered and is now in the Louvre.”  Here she paused to add weight to what she was about to say.  “Remember it was supposed to be made of Roman glass?  Well, guess what…the one in the Louvre isn’t.” 

Eve and Jim stared hard at Jean.  “You’re telling us they destroyed a fake?” Jim asked. 

“Yes I am,” Jean said with certainty. 

The three of them looked at each other in silence.  “So you think General Luckner removed the Royal Regalia and replaced it with fakes before the Revolution?”  Jim asked. 

“I do” Jean said emphatically.  “And, because of who’s Patent you have, I’ll bet the child mentioned by the Colonel was the Dauphin.” 

Finally Jim said “So you think that because it takes all four of these items to crown a King that they were never separated.  And, you think that someone, maybe this Luckner fellow, replaced the originals with fakes during the French Revolution?” 

“Exactly,” Jean said with relief.  “It’s the only explanation.”

Eve studied Jean’s face.  Finally, she said, “That means one other thing.  You believe that wherever Jim’s Great grandfather found the Patent that’s where the other items are too?” 

“Exactly,” Jean said with satisfaction.