The Bastille Spy by C. S. Quinn

Author:C. S. Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlantic Books

CHAPTER 51

THE CANDLES IN TERESA’S STUDY SEEM LIKE GLOWERING eyes as I absorb what she’s telling me. A killer came looking for Grace. Grace is gone.

Madame Roland is frowning, choosing her words. ‘It’s true I found Grace,’ she says slowly. ‘Monsieur Robespierre asked me to watch for anyone of that name. But I helped her. Some of my husband’s rogue friends had mistaken her for one of the harlots who come here for profit.’

Teresa’s brown eyes flick to mine. ‘I ran into her just in time. Dress torn, sobbing uncontrollably. She was so drunk as to hardly be able to stand and they’d given her ether. I dread to think what might have happened had I not got to her.’

‘You think yourself virtuous for taking her out of the frying pan and into the fire?’ I don’t bother to hide my contempt.

‘I never meant for it.’ Teresa looks down. ‘She was in my bedchamber. Then she vanished. Just after I gave her back the necklace.’ She sees something in my expression. ‘She had a piece of paste jewellery – Robespierre had already told me it was how I might identify her.’

‘Was this glass necklace styled on le collier de la reine?’ I know the answer, even before she speaks.

‘Why, yes. I imagine Grace didn’t know what a dangerous thing it is, even to imitate. I avidly followed the trial of the jewel thief and Marie Antoinette. We debated it endlessly in my salon. I would go so far as to say it was those missing diamonds that started the first ripples of revolution.’

‘So the first thing you did was send word to Robespierre that Grace was here?’

‘Robespierre believes there is some English plot. He thought Grace should be arrested and returned to England and I agreed.’

I smile at her naivety.

‘You didn’t think,’ I say slowly, ‘that the necklace you saw might have been the real collier de la reine?’

‘I ... But the diamonds were lost. Four years ago. In any case,’ she shakes her head, assuring herself, ‘Monsieur Robespierre is not motivated by money. He would never ...’

‘Send someone to murder Grace and steal the diamonds to fund the rebel cause?’

Teresa blinks hard. ‘I know Robespierre to be an ethical man. A good man. He means a new future for France.’

‘Teresa,’ I say, ‘a man came to your house. A man named Oliver Janssen, known for torturing confessions from his victims. Do you know who he is?’

‘He was a musketeer,’ she agrees. ‘The King disbanded them last year for lack of funds. Many have defected to the rebel cause.’

‘Teresa,’ I tell her gently, ‘who else but Robespierre could have told this musketeer that Grace was here?’

Her eyes track back and forth sightlessly, searching for an explanation that could exonerate Robespierre.

Finally Madame Roland’s shoulders sag. Utter devastation seizes her features. ‘I didn’t know,’ she whispers. Her eyes lift to mine. ‘Please believe me. I didn’t know.’ Her chest is rising and falling fast. She swallows and examines her fingernails guiltily.

‘When I went back to the bedchamber, Grace was gone.

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