"Ah, come in, Jabot. I see you are packed and ready for our excursion."
"Yes, a night away is just what I need. Between the new grandchild's colic keeping me up half the night and then this morning . . .," the police chief's voice quieted and he shook his head slightly.
"We had no choice," Mayor Bocuse said softly, but without enthusiasm.
"It's gone too far. I feel like I led the lamb to slaughter."
"We don't know that for certain. The Americans are so melodramatic after all. We do not know that Monsieur West will come to any real harm. He may just be waylaid. Even his partner seemed to doubt his assertions about the little man."
"We got in over our heads on this one, Bocuse. We'll be lucky to get out with them. If it were just the Americans, but they have involved the President and the Sûreté. Perhaps we should consider making a deal?"
"No, Jabot, it is too late."
"For you. You can go anywhere. I have a family!"
"That never stopped you from taking a bribe before," the mayor said.
"It is one thing to turn an eye away from theft and petty crime, but kidnapping and murder are different!"
"Again, Jabot, we do not know these things have happened or shall happen. We have done little more than aid the man with housing, supplies and workers who will keep silent. There is nothing so horrible in that."
"But his prior crimes, if I had known more about them, I would never have helped the man!"
"At the time, I don't recall you caring to know the details, Jabot. It's a little late to develop a conscience."
Police chief Jabot looked ashamed at the truth and changed the subject. "Has he sent any word yet?"
"No, and Baron Munchenhauser's coach will be here for us shortly. We cannot wait much longer! My message to the little man said that we would leave at 14:00 prompt. I have already dismissed the staff for the day."
"Yes, by all means, we must hurry off upon a sudden and unexpected invitation for a last minute evening of gambling and a day of fox hunting in Alsace because the weather is so lovely — even if Monsieur and Madame West's lives are at risk!"
"Get control of yourself, Jabot, or you will find yourself out of a job sooner than you like." Just then a pigeon landed on the ledge of the mayor's window and cooed loudly. "Get the message off that filthy creature, Jabot."
The police chief followed orders. "It's Loveless. He sent a list of supplies he wants delivered, which means we'll have to send someone ahead to cut back the overgrowth on the paths to get a cart through. He also demands the best midwife in town. All are to arrive by ten tomorrow morning. He promises he will pay us in full then."
"Damn him!" Mayor Bocuse railed. "He has a full week before he has to worry about Gordon returning. We made that clear to him. Why could he not wait a day or two longer?"
"Even you can hardly ask a woman in labor to wait to deliver a child, Bocuse! So what are we to do now? The Baron's coach should be here momentarily," the police chief advised as he began to fret. "What would happen if we did not comply with Loveless's demands?"
The mayor paced around the room anxiously. "Loveless is in no position to harm us, but if we do not comply, we may not receive the final payment."
"I say let it go."
"All the risk we have undertaken will have been for so little then. No, no. You go ahead to the Baron's. Perhaps it will give you a chance to calm down some. You can make my apologies to him as well."
"Are you certain?" Chief Jabot queried.
The mayor shrugged. "It is what must be done. I would trust no one but the two of us to bring the money back safely after dropping off what he requests. Send Loveless back a note by that dirty bird saying that things will be done as he asks on the condition that the final payment is deposited just inside the front gate. I want to see it with my eyes before I deliver anything to him."
"What about the midwife? Do you just plan to leave her there at his mercy?" Jabot asked a little startled.
"I'm certainly not going to stick around and wait for a woman to give birth, Jabot. That could take hours or days, hours that I will use to prepare my own departure. I tell you, I will be glad to see the back of the little devil before he brings ruin upon us."
"You are going to leave town afterward?" Jabot asked as he wrote and attached the note as directed.
"Yes, what choice do we really have? We know within the week Gordon will return. When he discovers West is missing, things could turn very ugly for us here."
"What about me?"
"I will meet you at the Baron's tomorrow afternoon with your share of the money. We will be safe enough at his estate for the time being. He's no friend of the law of France, well, with limited exceptions," the mayor winked at his police chief.
"I . . . I . . . my family?"
"That is for you to decide. You can arrange to meet them somewhere later, or you can start over as I plan to. I have in mind southern Italy. If you want, since Gordon won't be a problem for six more days, you might even risk coming back here to collect them. It is up to you. Now, before you leave, what midwife would you recommend I summon? It should be someone who will not be missed quickly."
Police chief Jabot sighed heavily as he thought. "Sister Agathe. She is the most experienced of any one in the village, but she is old and it would shock no one if she were not to return from a birthing."
"Very well. Get going, Jabot. At the least you will get a good night's rest away from children. That should help you think more clearly."
Jabot nodded. "I fear we shall rue this the rest of our lives, my friend," Jabot said as he shook the mayor's hand. "If only we had known what the little man was up to earlier . . ." he trailed off in regret.
"We would have demanded more money," Mayor Bocuse finished for him with a snide smile.
Just then Artemus Gordon and Inspector Girard stepped through an adjacent door, guns drawn and aimed.
"You are under arrest, Monsieurs, for gross abuse of office, for giving aid to an international felon, and by the time we have finished scrutinizing your affairs, a hundred other charges, no doubt," Inspector Renaud Girard stated.
"How did you know?" the startled mayor asked.
"To start with, six weeks ago, an employee of the British embassy was in Verdun visiting his wife's family. He had seen the posters for Loveless and his entourage at the embassy. He came to you and your police chief here saying he believed he'd seen Voltaire and Kitten. You promised to attend the matter with due haste and zeal," Artemus said.
"That damn man!" the Mayor interrupted. "Why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut?"
"Because I ran into him at a party two nights ago at the British embassy and when he learned I was with the Sûreté, he related the story to me," Inspector Girard explained as he took the mayor in his grasp to handcuff him.
"Jabot, I told you that you should send have sent the man a note telling him that we'd looked into the matter and concluded it was not them!" the Mayor scolded his police chief.
"And I told you that we should have instructed the little man to leave Verdun then! Instead you sent him servants so his people would keep out of sight," Jabot retorted.
"Sending him my niece and her leech of a husband was the perfect solution to keeping them hidden for the duration. If you had just listened to me, Jabot, we would not be in this mess!"
"Enough!" Artie yelled at the spatting conspirators.
"Tell me where can I find Sister Agathe?" Artemus asked Chief Jabot while holding a handful of his collar. Jabot looked worried, but remained silent.
"You have two choices, Jabot," Inspector Girard said as he held the mayor in his grasp. "You can cooperate with us freely and hope for some mercy from the courts or I can let Monsieur Gordon acquire your cooperation in a less pleasant manner."
"Don't say another word, Jabot!" the mayor yelled.
Inspector Girard's right fist launched into the mayor's soft belly a moment later. "I think listening to your friend here has gotten you in enough trouble already," Girard said with a calm that belied the violent act he'd just committed and served as a warning.
"The lives of my partner, his wife and their baby are at risk, Jabot," Artemus urged the conflicted man.
"I will tell you everything I know and help in any way I can," the police chief promised. "I only wish I knew more than I do."
"Let's swap off, Renaud. You learn what you can from him and get him to help arrange the supplies and contact with the midwife. I need to study the mayor's face for a bit."
"As you wish, Artemus." Renaud pushed the winded mayor in Artie's direction.
Artie settled the handcuffed mayor in his office chair, then went to the anteroom to collect a bag he'd left behind. Artie took a seat opposite the mayor and opened his bag of tricks, first pulling out a mirror. He then began the transformation of his own visage into a replica of the mayor's. Fortunately a great deal of facial hair promised to make it a quick job. Artie had already trimmed the fake beard and wig to approximate size. As he worked, he kept an ear to Renaud's interrogation of the police chief.
At the conclusion of Artie's transformation, Renaud Girard complimented Artemus. "Amazing, Artemus. It is always such a pleasure to see you work! Time for the closet for these two now, oui?"
"Yes, that should be fine since the mayor gave his staff a holiday tomorrow for that little junket to Baron whatshisname's?" Artie pushed the mayor towards the closet as they spoke. The police chief put up no resistance.
"Munchenhauser, a most loathsome man. Someday we will catch him on this side of the border," Renaud said wistfully as he closed the door on the pair of conspirators.
"Well, he proved very useful to us on this occasion. Maybe we should send him a thank you note," Artie quipped. "Although since he has no idea that he invited those two in the first instance, perhaps not!"
"It was a brilliant idea, Artemus."
"I'm full of them, just ask Jim. Of course, I couldn't have done it without your contribution."
"Ah, a name, what is in a name?" Renaud jested.
"Lots if you have a file that tells you the Mayor of Verdun is in the pocket of the man with the name," Artie acknowledged.
"It was one of the rare times that intelligence about the Baron has proved useful," Renaud sighed. "If only we were not such different sizes of men, Artemus, I would ask you to transform me into the police chief for tomorrow's work, but alas, maybe another time?"
"It would be my pleasure, mon ami," Artie said.
"Is there anything else I can do tonight to help beyond arranging for the cutting of the passes and the preparation of the supplies?"
"I think you've done plenty already and deserve a little rest, Renaud. You must have been traipsing after these two through the night."
"In a manner of speaking. By the time Bocuse ran to catch Jabot's ear yesterday after we all first met, I had taken a page or two out of your book. It was a janitor who heard their discussion where Bocuse dispatched Jabot to send a pigeon to Loveless about you and Jim. Then later it was a weary traveling salesman who caught up to Chief Jabot as he traveled down the northern road returning with an envelope that later made its way to Jim at the hotel."
"And in between all that you managed to arrange the fake telegram from the Baron and intercept the mayor's response! Impressive." Artie acknowledged his friend with a smile of professional respect.
"My wife, she too is impressed at my stamina!"
"Uh, yes, on that topic, perhaps since you seem so tireless, you could see to Lily's safety in the hotel tonight until I return from visiting the midwife?"
"It would be my pleasure, Artemus. What name is Lily using there?"
"She shall have checked us in as Monsieur and Madame Petitgenet, but I don't want her interacting too much at the hotel. Her accent is exaggerated stage French and her vocabulary is high school level covering the basics of greetings, farewells, taking taxis, telling time and ordering off a menu, well, with a little kitchen French thrown in. How I'd like to erase those words from her pretty lips!"
"Is Lily in disguise too?"
"Yes. We both changed on the train out and then returned from the next stop at Sainte-Menehould in a hired carriage. Lily is blond today, hair in a chignon and, if she's heeded my warnings, she's shooting intimidating, withering looks around so she can avoid making small talk in French."
"It will either be a snap to find her or she will blend in perfectly with the local women!" Inspector Renaud Girard laughed. "What a pair you two make! Although I would suggest that you did look a little too Belgian when I met up with you earlier."
"Oh, well, thanks for the review," Artie said a bit taken aback. "I'll add it to my stack."
"No offense meant. You are still the master, Artemus."
"Yes, and next time you play a janitor, Renaud, you might dirty up the shoes a bit."
"But Artemus, I could not. They are Italian!"
Artie shook his head. "Amateurs!"
"In that respect, I humbly acknowledge I am so," Renaud smiled graciously before he turned serious. "Artemus, do you think this plan will work?"
"It has too. Jim and Kat's lives depend on it. A child's too."
"Are you certain Jim made it inside alive?"
"Yes. I wouldn't be surprised if Loveless trapped Jim on the way in with the help of those two buffoons, but Loveless wouldn't kill Jim right away. He's not worried about me for a week and until the baby arrives — which I'm guessing by the request for the midwife tomorrow isn't happening just yet — he's got some time to torment Jim first."
"You mean torture, don't you?"
"Knowing Loveless as I do, I suspect that in this instance physical torture won't be first on the agenda. He's effectively tormented Jim emotionally for months. As he closes out his plan, I think he will be satisfied to continue that tack. Frankly, it's Loveless's most effective weapon yet against Jim."
"Do you think we can expect Jim to be of significant help when we arrive?"
"One never knows with Jim. He may have five weapons or tools on his body still or none. He may be waiting for an opportune moment to act or be helpless until we arrive. That's why he always like to keep me around in reserve!" Artie allowed himself a small chuckle.
"What will I be able to do to help tomorrow?" Renaud asked.
"Well, someone has to carry the supplies inside. Mayors are above such nonsense."
"You mean to tell me that the only help you need from the finest Inspector of the Sûreté is as muscle? I am in fine shape, my friend, but my mind, it is a terrible thing to waste!"
"You might have let me finish, Renaud. Maybe the person who takes in the supplies doesn't leave but seeks out an old friend from America. Perhaps he passes him tools of the trade to help him escape if needed."
"Artemus, are you suggesting that I am to have the honor of playing you tomorrow?" Renaud asked with genuine graciousness.
"Now there's a real devil of an idea! You dress as me dressed in disguise to rescue Jim! If only you were eight inches shorter, Renaud, it might work!" Artie beamed at his thought.
"I blame my mother's side of the family," Inspector Girard nodded.
"If the mother's side is at fault, I was lucky not be a just a few inches taller than Loveless," Artie acknowledged with a fey wave of his hand.
"Until later then, mon ami," Renaud Girard said as they split off to attend to separate tasks.