To Palenier the answer was obvious. ‘I would have joined the army and gone in uniform to see all my friends and neighbours.’
Margont displayed the button. ‘And that’s exactly what he did. This is a Russian uniform button with the emblem of the Moscow militia on it.’
Lefine took the button out of his hand, beating Palenier to it. Yes, now he knew, it was obvious what it was.
‘How can you be sure it’s the Moscow militia?’ queried Palenier. ‘Because we would recognise that symbol anywhere - we were fired on by the militia continually!’ retorted Lefine. ‘All through the retreat and at the Battle of Berezina. That emblem was on the
militia’s toques, their felt hats, their helmets and their shakos. We told you, we took part in the Russian campaign!’
‘It’s this button that proves that Charles de Varencourt is indeed a doctor,’ explained Margont. ‘It’s not regulation. The uniform it’s from was certainly magnificent and so inevitably belonged to an officer. The lower ranks of the militia wore civilian clothes - pelisses or grey, green or beige greatcoats. The only sign that they were soldiers was the emblem on their headgear, their haversacks and their weapons — when they had any. The officers, on the other hand, did wear uniform. Varencourt had a sumptuous nonregulation uniform made for himself. That was tolerated in all armies, who were always happy to see their soldiers clothed at their own expense, especially militiamen, the outcasts of the military system. He wanted his uniform to be flashy - “Look at me! Now I’m an officer in the Moscow Opolchenie! So you see, I am loyal to Russia.” In Austria and in France it’s exactly the same -the militiamen who equip themselves are better regarded. No one really has any confidence in the French National Guard, although they do their best, but everyone reveres the guards of honour. The only difference between the two is that the latter are very well equipped, from their own pocket, and they wear showy uniforms like the hussars. So they have the right to all the honours and the Emperor has even included them in the Imperial Guard. I do accept that they have shown themselves to be full of courage.’ Palenier shook his head.
‘In view of what you’ve told us, it’s impossible that a Frenchman, established in Moscow for only a few years, would be promoted to officer rank, even for the purposes of fighting the French. A soldier, yes, but an officer...’
‘Only an officer has the right to a stylish uniform. No army would put up with their simple soldiers being better dressed than their superiors. There’s a reason that when Charles de Varencourt enrolled in the militia, the Russians would have been obliged to make him an officer. And the reason is, he’s a doctor! All European armies give doctors officer rank. There are no regulations that envisage ‘doctor soldiers’. And armies have terrible need of
doctors. They would have been glad to have him, especially as he would have been a non-combatant.’
Margont paused. He reflected that he had something in common with Varencourt. He was combative! Once more Varencourt had not given up in the face of adversity; he had not lamented his fate. He had confronted it head-on.
‘Varencourt thought he had found the perfect solution. Imagine him walking about Moscow, in his fabulous uniform, Russian solders coming to attention and saluting him as he passed ... It put him beyond reproach! I agree with you, Monsieur Palenier, I would also have gone to the neighbours who had insulted me and spat in their faces. And as I was enjoying the look on their pale features, I would have asked them when they were going to join the militia! Varencourt had become more Russian than the Russians! You have to remember the prevailing mood at that time. The Russians were convinced they were going to crush the Grande Armée and that the French would never succeed in reaching Moscow. We were already weakened by the long march, by fighting and by the constant harassment of the Cossacks, whilst our enemies had been strengthened by drawing together all the troops from all over their enormous country, as big as a continent. Varencourt went with the army, as he was obliged to do from then on. He would certainly have been present at the Battle of Borodino, since Moscow sent a good number of militiamen to swell the ranks of the Russian army just before that important encounter.’
Margont again paused. So Charles de Varencourt had already crossed his path. On j September 1812, in the thick of the battle, they might have been only yards apart, and those yards would have been strewn with corpses.
‘We won and the Russian army received the order to retreat. Later, the prisoners told us that when they heard the order, the Russian soldiers almost mutinied. They wanted to continue fighting; they were refusing to abandon Moscow. Varencourt would assuredly have agreed with that view. But the withdrawal was imposed on them. The Russian army withdrew back through Moscow. When the population saw what they were doing, people understood that
the city was being abandoned to its fate. Rostopchin ordered an evacuation of the city, and all those who had not already done so hastily fled. The soldiers were given very strict instructions: anyone leaving the ranks faced the death penalty. A short truce had been concluded, on condition that the Russian army crossed Moscow “without stopping for an instant”, to use the Emperor’s exact words. And in any case, Kutusov, the commander-in-chief of the Russian army, did not want half his soldiers disappearing in Moscow to find their families. Perhaps that’s what Varencourt would have wanted to do. But he followed the army. He didn’t know that Moscow was going to be burnt, and that his wife could not leave the city because she was pregnant.’
‘How do you know she was?’ demanded Lefine.
‘When I spoke to the abortionist, she repeated what Catherine de Saltonges had told her. Apparently she had said, just before her abortion, “Fate is conspiring to kill his children before they are born.” Charles de Varencourt’s wife must have been close to giving birth, so would not have been able to walk or to be transported for several days in a cart. Either Varencourt was unaware of his wife’s condition, or he wanted to desert but didn’t succeed and escaped the firing squad because doctors were so much in demand.’ Palenier knew that he was missing some pieces of the puzzle, but he wanted to interrupt Margont as little as possible. For once he had stumbled on an investigator who did not persist in keeping all his discoveries to himself. If Margont continued to divulge information at this rate, they would both receive a nice promotion! When someone is climbing, hold tight to their coattails; when someone is falling, let go of them as quickly as possible. That was Palenier’s philosophy.
Margont went on with his explanations. The tragedies of Charles de Varencourt’s life seemed to cast a shadow over his own face. ‘Moscow burnt, and his wife and unborn child died in the fire. That’s the wife that Varencourt has never left, to quote Catherine de Saltonges. It’s also possible that other members of his family-in-law stayed with his wife - her parents, for example - and so also perished. Now we can begin to understand Varencourt a little
better. We can see how he would think constantly about fire. Moscow tipped him over the edge. For the second time his universe was wiped out, pulverised, literally reduced to cinders. Except this time he didn’t try to make a third life. He decided to seek vengeance. He came back to France and got himself admitted to the Swords of the King. He proposed a ridiculously daring and immoderate plan: to assassinate Napoleon. Just that. The Swords of the King must have laughed at him, taken him for a madman. But he developed his idea. Precisely and methodically. Fernand, you know the rest. The plan convinced the group’s committee who were, for the most part, fanatics. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that they admitted Varencourt to their circle. The Swords of the King were following several courses of action and it made sense to have Charles de Varencourt take charge of the assassination plan. He played the role of the traitor who was willing to sell out his friends. That was how he would get to know the investigator assigned by Joseph, whose identity he planned to steal. It was also he who assassinated Colonel Berle. The burns give him away. The committee had agreed that he should kill Berle, but he could not resist mutilating the body with fire. That proves he was alone when he committed the crime. An accomplice would never have let him do such a thing and would have told Vicomte de Leaume about his behaviour. The group knew that Charles de Varencourt killed Berle and that he had left their symbol as agreed. But the Swords of the King most certainly did not know about the mutilations.’