Napoleon Must Die Read Online Free PDF

begun, she knew she had to finish. “Yes. He’s spoken with me. He suspects you of killing the marine private.”
    “He told you this?” Vernet demanded, his face darkening.
    “He didn’t have to,” she answered, making an effort to speak sensibly. “His investigation reveals it. When he questioned me, I could see he was already half-convinced that you had done the murder. He told me to keep his remarks in confidence, but I cannot conceal what he said from you. You are my husband. It may be that he expects me to tell you.”
    Vernet took a step back from her. “How could he think such a thing of me?” he asked the air.
    “He has been trying to account for the time of all the officers who had some part in guarding the treasure, to discover who might have been able to kill the private without attracting attention,” said Victoire, making herself speak clearly. “From the things he asked me, it was apparent that you are one he has not been able to account for. That has led him to suppose you might have been the killer. He must be under a lot of pressure.”
    “Grace and mercy,” said Vernet, turning white. “But I have nothing to do with it.”
    “He is not convinced of that.” She realized how distressed he was and did her best to offer him some reassurance. “I informed him that you would not do such a thing, but I doubt he believed me.”
    Vernet nodded several times. “He ought never to have talked with you. It’s inexcusable to ask a man’s wife to speak against him.”
    “So I told him, and assured him I would not be turned from you by his insinuations.” She put her hand on his arm. “Vernet, it’s a very dangerous game Berthier is playing. It seems to me that there is more at stake here than one dead marine private.” As he gave her a startled glance, she explained, “This is a war, and marine privates die. Therefore the death of this one marine private must have special significance, or Berthier would not trouble himself over the matter.”
    “No, he wouldn’t,” said Vernet, his worry changing to perplexity. “What is his intention?”
    “To fix blame on you, I fear, and so avoid any blame himself,” said Victoire. She stood straighter. “And I will not permit that.”

    * * *

    The lamplight cast tremendous shadows on the walls of the tent where Berthier sat, Eugene taking down the last of his day’s dictation.
    “One last thing,” said Berthier to his secretary. “Then you may have supper and retire for the night. It is the matter of Inspector General Lucien Vernet.” He scowled at the lamp as if it were Vernet himself. “I want to advise Napoleon to confine the man until he can be tried. Deliver this recommendation to Napoleon before you have your supper. It troubles me that Vernet is walking around where he can do more damage. I wish last night’s battle had not so disrupted everything.”
    “And the scepter?” asked Eugene as he wrote.
    “The scepter could be anywhere. I’ve ordered the Vernet tent searched, but it cannot be done until tomorrow, and if Vernet is half the man I suspect he is, the scepter will be gone before we can find it.” Berthier leaned back and peered at the roof of the tent. “It’s only to be expected. Men on campaign have many temptations. Some pursue women, some pursue treasure. There is nothing that can stop soldiers from—” He broke off as the flap of his tent was raised.
    Napoleon Buonaparte came quickly through the space, Murat and Jean Baptiste Bessieres behind him. He stopped in front of Berthier’s writing table. Though standing still, he had a motion about him, a pent-up energy that caught the attention of everyone who met him. “What’s this about a missing scepter?” he asked without ceremony.
    “You’ve read my report?” Berthier asked, making a signal to Eugene to stop writing.
    “Yes, of course. And I’ve spoken with Murat and Desaix already. The guard was found dead. The scepter was missing.” Napoleon regarded