Pulp Fiction, 1877 · page 32 of 56
Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 10 — page 32: what you’re looking at
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—_ — mentioning. . but that was only the first impulse of anger. — _— —— es ee ee ee i ee ee +. ce These proofs were positive, but it was difficult to make use of the information without betraying my share in the business to France, who, having only confessed to me, could only suspect me of betraying him. I, however succeeded: and so little did he ssepers that I had abused his confidence, that he told me all his troubles, in propor- tion as the plan which I had concerted with M. Henry progressed. Besides, the police were so arranged, that they seemed only to be guided by chance, and thus were the arrangements made. They gained over to their interest one of the lodgers of the house which France had inhabited; and this lodger told the landlord, that, for about three weeks, no move- ment was seen in the apartment of Madame Bertrand; and this awakened and afforded a wide fleld for conjecture. It was remembered that.a person went frequently in and out of this apartment; his absence was talked of, and it was a matter of astonishment that he was not seen: the word disappearance was mentioned, and thence the neces- sity of the intervention of the commissary; then the opening of the door in presence of witnesses; then the discovery of a great quantity of stolen property belonging to the neighborhood, and many of the instruments made use of to consummate these robberies. The next pn eet was, what had become of Josephine Bertrand? and all the rsons were Visited to whom she had referred when she red the apartments, but nothing could be learnt of this woman; only that a girl, named Lambert, who had suc- ceeded her in the apartment of the Rue Montmartre, had just been apprehended; and as this girl was known as rance’s mistress, it was conjectured that these two had a common residence. France was in consequence con- ducted to the spot, and recognized by the neighbors. He pretended that he had been taken by surprise, and that they were mistaken, but the jury before whom he was taken, decided otherwise, and he was condemned to the galleys for eight years. France once convicted, it was easy to follow up the traces of his comrades, two of whom were named Fossard and Legagneur. They were watched, but the negligence and want of address in the officers enabled them to esca the pursuit which I directed, The former was a man the more dangerous, as he was very skillful In making false keys. For fifteen months he seemed to defy the police, when one day I learnt that he resided with a hair- er in. the Rue du Temple, facing the common sewer. To apprehend him from home was almost impossible, for he was skillful in disguises, and could detect an officer a hundred pages off; on the other hand, it would be better to seize himin the midst of his professional apparatus, and the produce of his robberies. But the undertaking sented obstacles: Fossard never answered when they ocked at his door, and it was moat likely that he had a means of egress, and facilities for getting over the roofs, It appeared to me, that the only mode of seizing him was to profit by his absence and hide in his lodging. M. Henry was of my opinion; and the door being broken open in the presence of a commissary, three agents placed them- selves in a closet adjoining a recess. Nearly seventy-two hours elapsed, and nobody arrived; at the end of the third day, the officers having exhausted their provisions, were f° ng away, when they heard a key turn In the lock, and ossard entered. Immediately two of the officers, in con- formity with their instructions, darted from the closet and threw themselves upon him: but Fossard, arming himeelf with a knife which they had left on the table, Sa them so, that they themselves opened the door which their comrade had closed; and, having turned the key upon them, Fossard quickly descended the staircase, leaving the three agents all the leisure necessary for drawing up a report, in which re ogg was wanting except the cir- eumstance of the knife, which they were very cautious io Before being sent to the Concilergerie, France, who had eever ceased to think me staunch, recommended one of Ais friends to me, named Legagneur, a fugitive galley- slave; arrested in the Rue de la Mortellerie, at the moment when he was executing a robbery by the aid of false keys; snd this man, deprived of all resource in consequence o me departure of his comrade, was thinking of sending for e money which he had deposited with a receiver of stolen goods in the Rue St. Dominique, at the Gros Caillou. Annette, who came constantly to see me at La Force, and sometimes ably abetted me in my pursuits, was charged with the commission; but either from dls- trust or a desire to retain it for himself, the receiver re- ceived the messenger very ungraciously; and, as she in- sisted, he threatened her with an arrest. Annette returned to tell us that she had failed in her errand. At this infor. mation Legagneur would have denounced the receiver, Growing more calm, he judged it most fitting to defer his ven- gence; and, moreover, to make it turn to his profit. If I denounce him,’’ said he to me, “not only but he may con- shall I get are by _ it, trive to appear not at allin fault. It will be best to wait until I get out, and then I will make him squeak.” Le- gagneur, having no farther hope from his receiver, deter- mined to write to two accomplices, Marguerit and Victor Desbvis, renowned robbers. Convinced of this old trn- ism, that small presents preserve friendship, in exchange for the aid he asked from them, he sent them the Impres- sions of the locks which he had taken for his own private use. Legagneur again had recourse to the mediation of Annette, who found the two friends at the Rue Deux- Ponts, on a wretched ground floor, a place where the never met without taking great previous precaution. It was not their residence. Annette, whom I had desired to do all in her power to learn this, had the sense not to lose sight of them. She followed them for two days, under different disguises; and, on the thi informed me that they lore D the small Rue St. Jean, in a house with gar- dens behind. M. Henry, to whom I communicated this circumatance, arranged all the necessary measures which the nature of the place required; but his officers were not more courageous, nor more skillful, than those from whom Fossard had escaped. The two robbers saved themselves by the gardens, and it was not till some time afterwards pet a were apprehended in the Rue St. Hyacinthe St. chel. Le eur having been in his turn conducted to the Conciergerie, was replaced in my room by the son of @ vintner at Versailles, named Robin, who, united with the thieves of the capital, told me, in our conversations, their arrangements, as well concerning all that had been done, ' as of their present state and intended plans. He it was who pointed out to me the prisoner Mardzcgent as a fugi- tive galley-slave, whilst he was only detained in cust as a deserter; for this latter crime he had been senten to twenty-four years’ labor at the galleys; he had passed some time in the Bagne; and by the help of my notes and secalieations, we were soon excellent friends; he fancied (and he was not mistaken) that I should be delighted to mest again uty old companions in misfortune: he pointed The enough to send back to the nat proofs for their conviction, might have let loose upon society. Never had any period been marked with more important discoveries than that which ushered in my début in the service of the police; although scarcely enrolled in this administration, I had already done much for the safety of the capital, and even for the whole of France. Were I to relate half my successes in my new department, my read- er’s patience would be exhausted; I will simply make mention of an adventure which occurred a few months before I quitted the prison, and which deserves to be rea- cued from the general oblivion. One afternoon a tumult arose in the court, which termi- | nated in a violent pugilistic combat; at this hour in the day such occurrences were very frequent. The twocham- | — were Blignon and Charpentier (called Chante & | ‘heure). A violent quarrel had arisen between them; | when the action had ceased, Chante a l’heure, covered | with contusions, entered the drinking-shop to have his | bruises fomented. I was there engaged at my game of iquet. Chante a l’heure, irritated with his defeat, was no onger master of himself, and as the brandy he had called for to wash his hurts, found its way almost unsonsciously to his mouth instead, he became proportionably energet- ic; until at last his mind could no longer contain the angry burst of his feelings. ‘‘My good friend,” said he to me (“ for you are my very end), do you see how this beggar of a Blignon has served me? But he s not go off scott free!"’ ‘* Oh, never heed him,” I replied; “ he is stronger than you, and you must mind what you are about. Do you wish to be half killed a second time?” ‘* Oh, that is not what Imean. If I choose, Ican puta stop to his beating me, or any one else again. ow what I know!” ‘* Well, and what do yon know?” cried I, struck by the tone in which he pronounced these last words. “Yes, yes,’’ answered Chante a l’heure, highly exasper- ated; ‘‘he has done well in driving me to this; I have only to blab, and his business Is settled.” ** Nonsense; hold your tongue,” said I, affecting not to believe him; ‘“‘you are bot birds of a feather. When be owe any one a spite, sg have only to blow at his ead, and he Would instantly fall.” “You think 80, do you!” said Chante & l’heure, striking the table. ‘“‘ uppose I told you that he had slit a wo- man’s weasaud! “Not so loud, Chante a l’heure; not so loud,” sald I, putting my finger significantly on my lips. ‘“* You know very well that at Lorcefée (La Force) walls have ears; and you must not turn nose against a comrade,”’ ‘What do you call turning nose?” replied he, the more irritated in proportion as I feigned a wish to stop him from speaking; ‘‘ when I tell you that it only depends on me to split upon him in another case." “That is all very well,” I replied; “ but to bring a man before the bigwigs, we must have proofs!” “roofs! Does the devil’schild ever want them? Listen. You know the litile shopkeeper who lives near the Pont Notre Dame?” ‘‘An old procuress, mistress of Chatonnet, and wife of the hump-backed man?” : “The same! Well, three months ago, as Blignon and I were blowing a cloud quietly In a boozing ken of the Rue Planche-Mibray, she came there to us. ere’s swag for you, my lads,’ said she, ‘ not far off, in the Rue de la Son- nerie! Yon are boys of mettle, and I will be you on the lay. An old dowager who has been pocketing lote of blunt, a few days since received fifteen or twenty thous- and francs, in notes or gold; she often comes home in the darkey, and you must slit her windpipe; and when you have prigged the chink, fling her into the river.’ At first we did not relish the proposition, and would not hear of it, as we never cared to commit a murder; but the old h 80 pestered us by telling us that she was well feathered, and that there was no harm in doing for an old woman, that we agreed to it. It was settled that the procuress should give us notice of the precise time and hour. How- ever, I felt very I don’t-know-how-ish about it; because ou see, when you are not used to a job of the kind, rou But never mind, all was settled; when next morning, at the Quatre-Cheminées, near Sevres, we met with Volvenel and another pal. Blignon told. the business to them, at the same time stating his objection to the murder. They thereupon at osed to ve us a hand if wechose. ‘Agreed,’ replied Blignon; where there is enough for two, there is enough for four; thus we settled it, and they were to be in the rig with us. From that time Votvenel’s pal never let us rest, and was eel queerish a bit. impatient for the arrival of the moment. At length the old mother Murder-love told us all was ger It was a thick fog on the night of the thirtieth of December. ‘Now’s the time!’ said Blignon. Believe me or not, as you like; but on the word of a thief I would have backed out, but I could not; I was drawn on, and dogged the old woman with the others; and, in the evening, when, having, as we knew, received a considerable sum, she was returning from the house of M. Rousset, & person who let out carriages, in the Alley de la Pompe, we didfor her. It was Voivenel’s friend.who stabbed her, whilst Blignon, having blinded her with his cloak, seized her from be- hind. I was the only ene who did not dabble in her blood; but I saw all for I was put on the look out; and I then learnt, and saw, and heard enough to give that scoundrel gg bate his Lag sp to the guillotine.’ Chante 4 l’heure then, with an insensibility which ex- ceeds belief, detailed to me all the minutest circumstances of this murder. I heard this abominable recital to the close, making incredible efforts to conceal my indignation; for every word which he uttered was of & nature to make the hair stand on end of even the least susceptible person. When the villian had finished retracing, with a horrible fidelity, the agonies of his victim, I urged him anew not to break off his friendship with Blignon; but at the same time I dexterously threw oil on the fire Ia peared solici- tous to extingnish, My plan was to lead Chante 4 l’heure to make a public confession of the horrible revelation to which rage and revenge had spurred him on. I was farther desirious of being enabled to furnish justice with those means of conviction which would be necessary to punish the assassins. Much yet remained in uncertainty; pos- sibly, after all, this affair was merely the fruits of an over- heated brain, and Chante 4 l'heure, when no longer under the influence of wine and vengeance, might disavow all recollection of it. However the business might terminate, I lost no time in dispatching to M. Henry a report, in which I explained the affair, as well as the doubts I myself entertained of its veraci'y; he was not long in replying to my communication, that the crime I allud was but too true. M. Henry begged I would endeavor to procure for him the precise account of everything which had pre- ew ‘York Library. : . ee Oe ee eee = eee ee 7 wee ee ee ee owe ee ee ee > eee ee - -- _—_ — ° out several amongst the prisoners, and I was fortunate | ceded and followed thie murder; and the ve lleys a considerable number | my plans were laid to obtain them. of those individuals whom justice, for want of the neces- | procure the arrest of any of the next day It was difficult to» Hy Beh. without their suspecting the hand which directed the blow; but in this: dilemma, as well as in many others in which I had been "ore Jen chance came to my assistance. The following ay I went to awaken Chante 4 l’heure, who, stil) suffering from the intemperance of the precedin night, was unable to quit his bed; I seated myself beside , and bega: to speak of the state of complete intoxication in which I liad seen him, as well as of the indiscreet actions he had ¢vn- mitted. ‘The reproof appeared to astonish him; but when I repeated a few words of the conversation we had hvid together, his surprise redoubled, and, as I had foreseen, he protested the impossibility of his having used suc! language; and whether he had effectually lost his recol- lection, or whether he mistrusted me, he tried hard to rsuade me that he had not the slightest remew. yrance of what had passed. Whether he at this mo- ment spoke the truth, or not, I profited by it to tell him that he had not confined his confidential communica- tions to one alone, but had spoken of all the circum. stances of the murder in a loud tone, in the presence of several prisoners who were sitting near the fire, and had heard all that had passed as well as myself. ‘* What ap unlucky fellow I am!’ cried he, witn every sign of sin- cere distress. “‘ What have I done? What is to be done to extricate pot ha from the situation in which it places me?’ ‘* Nothing is more simple,” said I; “if you should be questioned as to the scene of yesterday you can say ‘Upon my word, when I have taken too mnch drink, say or do anything; and if I happen to have a spite against a man, I do not know what I might invent about him.’ ’* Chante a lheure took all this for gennine advice: but on the same morning, a man named Pinson, who passed for a great sneak, was conducted from La Force to the office of the prefect; this exchange could not have occurred more opportunely for my project. and I hastened to acquaint Chante a l’heure with it, adding that all the prisoners believed that Pinson was only removed in the expectation of his making some very important dis- coveries. . At this intelligence he appeared thunderstruck: “ Was he one of those who were present when I was talking the other night?’ asked he with strong anxiety. I replied that I had not particularly observed; he then communi- cated to me more frankly his fears, and I obtained from him fresh particulars, which, sent off without delay to M. reef caused all the accomplices in this murder to fall into the hands of emg the shopkeeper and her husband were of the number. ey were all commi to soli- tary confinement: Blignon and Chante a l’heure in the new building, the others in the infirmary, where they remained a very long time. The public authorities h inquired into it, and I no longer troubled myself with the affair. Nothing material resulted from the investigation, which had been wet A begun from the first, and finally the accused were pardoned. My abode at Bicétre and La Force embraced a point of twenty-one months, during which not a single Ay without my rendering some important service. I believe I might have become a per. petual spy, so far was every one from supposing that any connivance existed between the agents of the public authority and myself. Even the porters and keepers were in orance of the mission with which I was in-: trusted. Adored by the thieves, esteemed by the mo 64 determined bandits, I could always rely on their devotiow , to me; they would have been torn to pieces in my ser- vice, a proof of which occurred at Bicétre, where Mar. dargent had several severe battle with some of the priso ners who had dared to assert that I had only quitted La Force to serve the police. Coco-Lacour and Goreau, risoners in the same gaol as incorrigible thieves, with nc ess ardor and pgm ig | intrepidity undertook my defence. M. Henry did not allow the prefet to remain in igno rance of the numerous discoveries effected by my sagacity. This functionary, to whom I was represented as a per-on on whom he might depend, consented at last to put an end to my detention. Every measure was taken that it might not be known that I had recovered my liberty; they sent to fetch me from La Force, and carried me from thence without neglecting anv of their rigorous precau- tions. My handcuffs were replaced, and I ascended the wicker car with the private understanding that I was to escape on the road, and I was not slow in profiting by this permission. e same night my flight was made known, and all the pres: were in search of me. This escape caused much noise, particularly at La Force, where my friends celebrated it with rejoicings, drank to my health, and wished me a safe and prosperous journey. CHAPTER XXII As the secret agent of Government, I had duties marked out, and the kind and re table M. Henry took upon himself to instrnct me in their fulfillment; for in hie hands were intrusted nearly the entire safety of the a tal; to prevent crimes, discover malefactors, and to give them up to justice, were the principal functions confided to me. By thieves, M. Henry was styled the Evil Spirit; and well did he merit the surname, for with him, cun- ning and suavity of manners were so conjoined as seldom to fail in their purpose. Among the coadjutors of M. Henry was M. Bertanx, a cross-examiner of