The Sun King Conspiracy by Yves Jégo Page A

narrow streets that bordered the theatre. The alleyway was crowded with people heading for the nearby vegetable market. The concierge’s assailant dodged between the handcarts of the traders, who cursed the mayhem caused by the men’s chase. At each street corner, Gabriel feared he would see the fugitive vanish into the mass of people.After at least five breathless minutes chasing at top speed through the capital’s maze of narrow, slippery streets, the young man reached the banks of the Seine, panting for breath. The ruffian had seized a boat that had doubtless been moored there by a fisherman who had gone to sell his fish in the market, and he was now speeding off up the river. As there were no other boats available, Molière’s secretary realised that he had lost this round. He retraced his steps resolving to force the man left on the floor to talk and strode purposefully back towards the theatre. The blood still pounding in his temples.
     
    ‘Gabriel, where were you? I was desperately worried,’ said Julie when he hove into view.
    ‘Where is that scum? I’m going to wring the truth from him!’ raged the young man, still furious at the other’s escape.
    ‘He got away; we weren’t able to detain him,’ said the concierge. ‘Thank you, Gabriel. Without you, I would certainly have died,’ he murmured, his eyes moist.
    The poor man’s distraught expression showed how afraid he had been.
    As the troupe gathered around them, warmly congratulating Gabriel on his bravery, the concierge sat on a chair to get his breath back and requested a glass of brandy. At the mere sight of the alcohol, colour began to return to the man’s face.
    ‘Well, what happened?’ Gabriel asked the concierge, who was clearly restored by the drink.
    ‘Ever since I found that scoundrel flattened on the stage, misfortune seems to have dogged our steps,’ he lamented. ‘First there were those whistles and jeers the other evening, which made good Monsieur Molière ill, and then there were the Cardinal’s policemen,who searched the theatre all day yesterday, from the cellars to the attics. Who knows what they were looking for!’
    ‘The Cardinal’s police!’ Gabriel exclaimed, anxious and incredulous.
    ‘Yes, the very same! They questioned me for three hours about each one of you,’ went on the concierge. ‘I thought they were going to arrest me and lock me away in those terrible cellars of the Conciergerie. Anyone would think that actors were enemies of the King! They wanted to know everything about the company, including where you live, and the people you associate with. Well, I just told them what I knew. As if I could investigate the private lives of the people who work here! And then this morning, just as I was sweeping the main auditorium, I came face to face with those two bandits. Lord knows where they sprang from.’
    ‘But what on earth are all these men searching for?’ said Julie.
    ‘How should I know?’ replied the concierge. ‘They told me they wanted “their documents”. I had barely recovered from the surprise when they jumped on me and shook me violently by the shoulders. By some miracle, I was able to escape their clutches for a moment. But these old legs aren’t as supple as they used to be,’ he said, slapping his thighs. ‘They caught me again just as you arrived, Mademoiselle. The more I told them I didn’t know what they meant by documents, the harder they hit me. They would have killed me, those villains, if you had not intervened, Monsieur Gabriel,’ the concierge repeated, pouring himself another glass of brandy.
    When he was sure the concierge was restored, the young man considered for a moment. All these people were searching for the documents he had found, whose code he had been unable to break. The presence in the theatre of the Cardinal’s police, and now of a band of mysterious attackers, was extremely worrying.
    I must be careful not to mention this to anyone, he thought. Damn it, I