Simon Hawke - The Pimpernel Plot

“No beard?” said Lucas.

Jean shook his head.

“The kid’s got sharp eyes,” said Finn. “It was him, all right. The hair was probably a disguise, but that injured side is where I got him with the sword cane. Go on,” he said to Jean.

“There is not much more to tell,” said Jean. “I met him yesterday. I tried to pick his pocket and he caught me. He said that he would let me go and give me fifty francs as well if I was not afraid. He said that I could either lose my head for being a thief or do as he said and make some money.” Jean shrugged. “The choice was simple. He took me up to that room where you found me. The man inside was asleep upon the bed. He struck this man, knocking him senseless, then bound and gagged him. He then took out some pistols and asked me if I knew how to shoot them. I told him that I did not. He showed me how and then I watched him load the pistols. He told me to wait in that room until the next day, when the Marquis de Leforte would be brought past the house on his way to the guillotine. He laid the pistols out and told me to shoot out the window and to aim high so that I would not hit the marquis. He said that the soldiers would come and that I was to hide beneath the bed, leaving the pistols out upon the floor. They would see the man tied up on the bed, think that the one who shot the pistols escaped, and not bother to look for a small boy. He said that if I did well, he would find me again and give me more money.”

“But the man inside the room was dead,” said Lucas.

“Yes, I killed him,” said Jean.

“You killed him? Why?”

“It was a good plan, but I thought of a better one,” said Jean. “If I shot high, then the soldiers would come into the room, looking for me. They would have untied that man and questioned him. They might have found me beneath the bed. I decided to try to kill the soldiers or as many of them as I could. I aimed very carefully,” he said with pride. “I made it easier for him. This way perhaps he will give me more money if I see him again. I killed the man inside the room because then I could say he was my father. A dead man cannot be questioned and no one would bother with a small boy, crying for his father.”

Finn glanced at Lucas. “Can you believe this?” he said. “This kid is diabolical. He never shot a gun before and he picked off those soldiers like a pro.”

“I should not have kept those pistols,” Jean said, morosely. “You would not have caught me, then. That was my one mistake.”

“Incredible,” said Fitzroy. “Absolutely incredible. The boy’s a born cold-blooded killer. Look at him! No trace of remorse!”

“And why should I care about them?” shouted Jean. “They are all the same! My father was run down in the street by an aristo in his coach! My mother died of hunger, giving my brother and me what little morsels she could find! Pierre and I roamed the streets like dogs, picking through the garbage. I am not sorry for what I have done and I never shall be!”

“Well, Delaney, you brought him here, now what are we supposed to do with him?” said Fitzroy.

“Hell, let him go,” said Finn. “What else can we do?”

“You are Finn Delaney?” Jean said.

Finn glanced at the boy, then at Lucas. “Well, if we had any doubts about who hired this kid, that takes care of them. Yes, I’m Finn Delaney. He gave you a message for me, didn’t he?”

“He said that if I met a man named Finn Delaney or one named Lucas Priest, I was to give him this,” said Jean, producing a folded up piece of paper.

Finn unfolded the note and read it aloud. “The marquis will be delivered to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel in Boulogne-sur-Mer. No one will be the wiser, except yourselves. That’s one for me. The game continues. Tell Cobra he’s out of his league.”

“Cobra?” said Lucas.

Finn sighed. “Do you get the feeling that he’s the only one who knows what the hell is going on around here?” He looked at Jean and jerked his head toward the door. “Get out of here.”

Jean jumped up and ran for the door, moving as fast as he could before they changed their minds.

“That kid’s going to grow up to be another Mongoose,” Lucas said.

Finn snorted. “For all we know, he might’ve been his ancestor. Maybe we should have killed him.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Fitzroy.

“That’s right, I can’t be,” said Delaney. “This whole thing’s a joke to somebody. If I could figure out the punchline, I might even laugh.”

True to his word, Mongoose delivered the Marquis de Leforte to Andrew Ffoulkes in Boulogne-sur-Mer. Ffoulkes naturally thought that it was Blakeney who had done it and the other members of the league believed that the whole thing had been the result of a last-minute change in plans. They were only disappointed that they had not been involved. They had been looking forward to torching the Place de la Revolution.

The arrival of the Marquis de Leforte in London further spread the fame of the Scarlet Pimpernel and both Ffoulkes and Dewhurst found that they had more social invitations than they could handle as everyone wanted to know more about this man of mystery. It became the fashion among aristocratic French emigres to wear a scarlet pimpernel in their lapels and this practice soon caught on throughout London society. Soon after Leforte’s rescue, Ffoulkes reported to Lucas that Lord Hastings desired to join the league; the well-turned-out scion of one of England’s foremost families was summarily recruited. At a dinner held at the Blakeney estate in honor of the Marquis de Leforte the week following his arrival, Finn was approached by a very handsomely dressed gentleman who looked vaguely familiar to him.

“Evening, Blakeney,” said the man, a tall and broad-shouldered dandy with flaxen blond hair and bright blue eyes. “I’d like to have a word or two with you, if you don’t mind?”

He took Delaney by the arm and gently steered him toward a small and unoccupied sitting room.

“How’s it going, Finn?” he said, softly. “Long time, no see.”

Delaney tensed and stared at him intently. It was a moment before he recognized the TIA agent. “Cobra!”

“It’s nice to be remembered,” said the agent. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Fitzroy gave me that message from Mongoose. Same old Mongoose, eh? I thought I’d touch base with you and compare notes.”

“How did Mongoose know they’d send you?” said Delaney. “I don’t think he knew, I think he guessed. Still, it was an educated guess. The odds were pretty good that they’d assign me to the case. I was the logical candidate. The two of us have worked together often in the past and, after him, I was the senior field operative. I was pulled off another mission for this one. I can’t say I mind it very much. This certainly beats slogging through the New England swamps with Benedict Arnold.”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that this mission will be much easier,” said Finn. “It’s rapidly turning into a real nightmare.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Cobra, “I’m not underestimating what we’ve got here, but it may not be quite as serious as you think. At least, not yet.”

“No? What makes you think so?”

“Well, Mongoose delivered the Marquis de Leforte to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, didn’t he? I think that’s an excellent indication that he’s not out to sabotage your adjustment.”

“You neglected to mention that he got a bunch of people killed in the process,” Finn said.

“Ah, yes, the boy. We’re looking for him now. It seems that Mongoose was not really responsible for that. Nevertheless, evaluations is checking through on the effects of those deaths. Chances are that they won’t constitute a serious disruption. People are dying left and right in Paris, a couple more deaths won’t make much difference, especially since no one of historical significance was killed. We’re very interested in that boy, though.”