The Phantom of the Rue Royale: Nicolas Le Floch Investigation #3. Jean-Francois Parot

his ribald laughter introduced a touch of joviality into the heavy atmosphere of the crypt. The two professionals carefully lined up their instruments and examined them one by one, checking the cutting edges of the scalpels, scissors, stylets, straight knives and saws. They also put out curved needles, string, sponges, tenacula, a trepan, a wedge and a hammer. Nicolas and Bourdeau observed how precise their gestures were. At last they all gathered around the large table on which the unknown girl lay. Sanson nodded towards the commissioner and gestured towards the corpse.

      ‘Whenever you wish, Monsieur.’

      Nicolas began: ‘We are in the presence of a body brought to La Madeleine cemetery on Thursday thirty-first May 1770, presumed to have perished in the disaster of Rue Royale.’

      Bourdeau was taking the minutes.

      ‘It was noticed by Commissioner Le Floch and Inspector Bourdeau on the stroke of six. Their attention was drawn by what were clearly marks of strangulation on the victim’s neck. In these circumstances, the order was given to transport the body to the Basse-Geôle, where, at’ – he consulted his watch before putting it back carefully in the fob of his coat – ‘at half past twelve on the same day, Charles Henri Sanson, executioner to the viscountcy and generality of Paris, and Guillaume Semacgus, naval surgeon, proceeded to open it in the presence of said commissioner and inspector. First, the clothing and objects belonging to the victim were examined. A loose dress of good quality, with a straw-coloured satin bodice …’

      Sanson and Semacgus undressed the body as Nicolas spoke.

      ‘… A white silk corset, very tight over the hips, fitted with whalebones and laced at the back …’

      The corset was in fact so tight that Semacgus had to use a penknife to cut the lace.

      ‘… two petticoats, one of thin cotton and the other of silk, with two pockets sewn inside the first …’

      He searched them.

      ‘Empty. Stockings of grey yarn. No shoes. No other objects, no jewellery, no papers, no clues of any kind seen on the body. Apart from …’

      Nicolas took a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully unfolded it.

      ‘… apart from a black pearl of a mineral resembling obsidian, which was found in the victim’s clenched hand when the corpse was discovered in La Madeleine cemetery. We seem to be in the presence of a young girl of about twenty, of slender constitution and with no distinguishing marks, except for those previously noted at the base of the neck. The mouth is twisted and the face contorted. The blonde hair is clean and very well groomed. The rest of the body is equally clean. Gentlemen, you may now proceed.’

      Nicolas had turned to Sanson and Semacgus. The two practitioners approached and meticulously examined the pitiful, recumbent body. They turned it over, observed the purplish tinges on its back, then laid it flat again. Nodding, Semacgus passed his hand over the stomach and looked at Sanson, who bent to do the same. He turned to pick up a probe for a more intimate examination.

      ‘You’re right, there’s no doubt about it.’

      ‘The clues speak for themselves, my dear colleague,’ Semacgus said, ‘though we’ll know more after we’ve opened her up.’

      Nicolas looked at both of them questioningly.

      ‘This maiden of yours,’ Semacgus said, ‘was a maiden no longer. In fact, there’s every indication that she had already given birth. Further observations are sure to confirm that.’

      Sanson now also nodded. ‘It’s beyond dispute. The disappearance of the hymen proves it, even though some authors say this is not infallible proof. In addition, the fourchette is torn, as is almost always the case in women who have had a child.’ He again bent over the body. ‘Gravis odor puerperii. There’s no doubt about it, labour only took place a few days ago, and perhaps even more recently than that. These stretch marks on the stomach show how distended it was.’

      ‘Not to mention this brownish line from the pubis to the umbilicus,’ said Semacgus, pointing at what he was describing. As for the swollen breasts, they also speak for themselves. We still have to do a detailed examination. Hold her head steady.’

      ‘Notice,’ said Sanson, ‘that the joint with the first cervical vertebra lacks normal mobility.’

      Nicolas tensed as the scalpel entered the flesh. It was always the same: at first, you found it hard to watch, and you would drag desperately at your pipe or frantically take snuff, but gradually your profession would gain the upper hand over the horror of the spectacle. Curiosity was a strong incentive to succeed, to shed light on the shadowy areas of a case. The body was no longer a human being who had lived, but the object of precise, painstaking labour, with its strange sounds and its colours uncovered by the stylet or the probe. It was an unknown world in which the body was a machine, and the inner drama of a life was offered up for view like meat on a stall before the corruption of the flesh obliterated everything.

      Without exchanging a single word, understanding one another by look and gesture only, the hangman and the naval surgeon proceeded. Then, after what seemed like a long time, they put everything back in its place. The incisions were sewn up, the body was cleaned and wrapped in a large sheet which, once closed, was sealed with wax by Nicolas. When they had finished, they rubbed their hands with vinegar, and carefully dried them, still in silence: neither wanted to be the first to speak.

      ‘Monsieur,’ Semacgus said at last, ‘you are at home here. I won’t encroach on your jurisdiction.’

      ‘Unofficially, Monsieur, unofficially. I consent, but don’t hesitate to interrupt me. Please do me the honour of supplementing my words.’

      Semacgus bowed. ‘I shall, with your permission.’

      Sanson assumed that modest, calm air of his, which made Nicolas think of a Lenten preacher.

      ‘I know, Commissioner, that you would like to obtain as quickly as possible the information which will be of most use to your investigation. I think you will benefit from what we have been able to ascertain. Let me therefore sum up the basic points.’

      He took a deep breath and folded his hands.

      ‘We have here a member of the female sex, about twenty years of age …’

      ‘Quite pretty, by the way,’ Semacgus murmured.

      ‘Firstly, we ascertained that she had been strangled. The state of her trachea, the contusions and internal haematoma due to loss of blood – everything clearly pointed to that. Secondly, the victim recently gave birth to a child, although we are unable to fix a precise date.’

      ‘Undoubtedly no more than two or three days ago,’ said Semacgus. ‘That much is clear from the state of the organs, the breasts and other details of which I shall spare you the description.’

      ‘And, thirdly, it is difficult to ascertain the exact time of death. Nevertheless, the condition of the body encourages me to make a cautious estimate: between seven and eight o’clock yesterday evening.’

      ‘In addition,’ Semacgus said, ‘when we cleaned the body, we found … some traces of hay.’

      He opened his hand. Nicolas took the strands of hay and put them in his handkerchief next to the mysterious black pearl.

      ‘Where did you find them?’ he asked.

      ‘More or less everywhere, but especially in the hair, which is why they were not noticed, given that the subject’s hair is long and fair.’

      Nicolas was thinking. As always when he wanted to get to the bottom of things, he resolved to play the devil’s advocate.

      ‘Is it possible, even if the time of death were much earlier than the tragedy in Place Louis XV, that you could be mistaken – forgive me – and that the wound to the neck, the apparent cause of death, was due to the removal of the body?’

      ‘No,’