Read Online The Saint-Florentin Murders by Jean-François Parot - Free Book Online

would say with a laugh, his functions as a surgeon rarely required this kind of exercise from him. Nicolas dreaded confinement and enclosed spaces, but, faced with a drop, he was as agile as a cat. Pressing his back up against the wall, he slid to the cornice above the gate. As he placed his feet on the projecting edge, he was struck by a stronger gust of wind and almost lost his balance: throwing his head back steadied him. He obtained a foothold on the cornice, holding on to the top of the upper parapet with his hands. There,the traces petered out. He sat down with his legs dangling, then lay on the edge to examine the underneath. He immediately realised that by putting his legs around the top of the column, he could easily get down as far as the spikes of the iron gate – they were only a few feet below him – and from there slide to the ground. There was one point where it could be dangerous, but the rest was child’s play. He decided, however, not to go all the way with his experiment, as the flagstones, being muddy, seemed unlikely to reveal any further clues.
    So someone had left the scene of the crime, gone up to the first floor of the mansion, opened the French window, and had escaped by performing a feat of acrobatics. That suggested several things: that the unknown person had a precise knowledge of the layout of the house, that his escape had taken place in the middle of the night, when there was less risk of being surprised, and, above all, that the individual was young, capable of such a difficult exercise, in which you might either fall or be impaled on the spikes of the gate. That raised some interesting questions about the sequence of events, and seemed to contradict the initial hypothesis of a murder committed by the major-domo, followed by an attempted suicide.
    Nicolas put his feet back down on the balcony, but, as he was about to enter the room, he realised that, during his brief absence, the French window had been closed from inside. Whether this had been caused by a gust of wind or a human hand, he was faced with the problem of getting back inside. He thought for a moment of taking the perilous route adopted by the mysterious acrobat. He soon gave up the idea: that was all he needed, to be crushed to death in the street! He could not take the risk. He tooka few steps and glanced in through the next window. There, in a kind of boudoir, was the Duc de La Vrillière, motionless and lost in thought. Unless he broke a pane in the first French window, the only thing he could do was make his presence known as naturally as possible. It took him several attempts to attract the attention of the minister, who eventually opened to him.
    ‘Monsieur, Monsieur,’ exclaimed the duc, ‘I’d heard that you went out through the door and came in through the window! Well, no need to explain. That’s your business.’
    He appeared to reflect for a moment, then turned with a sigh to a large portrait of Louis XV, the cartouche of which indicated that it was a gift from the King, presented to Monsieur de Saint-Florentin in 1756.
    ‘What a good master he was,’ he murmured, in a tragic tone. ‘He loved us, he really did. What a career you would have had, Marquis, if …’ He left the phrase hanging. ‘What he especially appreciated about you,’ he resumed after a moment, ‘was your handsome face, your very rare gift of being able to distract him, and an even more unusual quality: the fact that you never asked him for anything. I shan’t even mention the services you rendered, performing miracles in difficult, delicate circumstances, even at the risk of your own life. Not many have been as valiant and loyal as you …’
    Nicolas tried to take advantage of the duc’s current good disposition towards him. ‘Monseigneur, allow me to ask you a question. What is your opinion of your major-domo, Jean Missery?’
    ‘To say that he keeps a firm grip on my household would be an understatement,’ replied the duc.