The Clue of The Changing Eye

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 103, 3 May 1930, Page 7 (Supplement)

The Clue of The Changing Eye

A remarkable adventure of Vidocq? the famous French detective who g was once a chain-gang convict. ;; . ;; By H. Ashton-Wolfe. |

Jt. Peuchet, the eminent keeper of the pecrert police archives at the Paris Prefecture was a mail "who rarely indulged in flights fo fancy. He spent his life searching for rare documents and hidden reports, concerned janly with an exact relation of facts. He found this work so absorbing, and the (Uncanny knowledge of human < frailities to thus gained bo enthralling, that at 'last what had been merely his duty became an obsession. Many are the queer stories briefly outlined by Peuchet in his memoirs, referring his colleagues to the bulky dossiers for details; but none so strange as the tale of Vidocq's career. Yet, reading between the lines, one gathers the impression that he disliked the Surete chief intensely; indeed, he remarks at the outset that he must refrain from jcriticism, Binc,e the man is still his superior in office. Most of the dossiers classified at headquarters, he adds, were mere fragments, but fortunately the complete reports were discovered at jVldocq's house, when the Prefect sent jjoldiers there with a search warrant. I have compared the dates and find rfchat this search occurred when Vidocq Resigned from the Surete. It is from pne of these dossiers, which also confined some engravings, that I have reconstructed the following story. A letter signed by the chief of police proves that the fantastic adventure happened soon after the death of Vidocq's Sweetheart Francine, in February, 1809. Vidocq, in his own memoirs, which [were banned by the Prefect's orders, desjjribed the occurrence as "The Case of the ghanging Eye." Although he realised the futility of the Action, M. Henry, Prefect of Paris Police, again examined the numerous reports on his table, in the vain hope that he had overlooked something. He had done little else since sending for Vidocq, phief of the Surete, who was at that jnoment ostensibly a convict at La Force prison. A mysterious criminal organisation of incredible audacity had abruptly sprung into being and was .terrorising France. Masked bandits had attacked a postchaise bearing money for the army, killed postilion and guards and escaped scot free with their, rich booty. A week later a second coach on its [way to the coast had met with a similar fate, although twenty soldiers accompanied it. " Moreover, churches had been idespoiled and lonely farms unexpectedly invaded and the inmates tortured in order to compel them to reveal wherq ftfreir money was hidden. Two staring pyes, drawn in charcoal, always marked [Wie passing of these outlaws, as a gibe, it was tut the badge of the jpoHce. • • Soldiers and national guards had at jpnce been, sent to patrol the roads, and hastily-formed but well-armed band pf peasants camped nightly near country houses, and prowled, alert and ready, in fields and woods, eager to encounter these ruthless outlaws. Warned of this by (their spies, they thereupon changed their .tactics, and, despite the vigilance of the police, abducted the daughter of a [wealthy nobleman, the Marquis de Combalat, as she was about to enter her father's carriage. .

When the frightened servants burst' urto the house with the news, they found the Marquis staring in horror at a letter [bearing the symbolical eyes, which had |at that moment arrived. It was a demand for a huge ransom, to be left immediately at a ruined house near the liver. Threats of some nameless torftjnre, which awaited the girl if he failed [to comply with the order or informed the police, caused the father to abandon all [thought of reprisals, and the following night he carried the money to the house [the outlaws had indicated. There masked ruffiians had taken the lb ox of gold from him, and when an hour later he reached home, he found his daughter lying in the garden. She [was unhurt, but appeared dazed, as from a poisonous, drug and quite unable to describe her captors or to give any clue' fto the place where she had been imprisoned. -r

jVidocq had immediately searched the abandoned house by the Seine but discovered nothing that could assist him. Hardly had the excitement caused by this daring outrage died down, when the son of Baron Dominique de Castell, a young man popular for his wit and (beauty, disappeared mysteriously. Another letter with the same queer signature was found by a footman lying on a table. The Baron, a valiant soldier, gathered a number of friends and laid a trap for the bandits, but the attempt failed, and some days later the body of the unfortunate son was discovered on the Seine embankment. He bore no wound and the doctors were unable t state how he had died. A queer, uncanny detail which caused *11 Paris to shiver with superstitious fear was that when the body was brought •home the mother had screamed: "His eyes! Look at his eyes!" The youth had been noted for his large grey eyes, and these, in some unaccountable fashion, had changed to a deep expressionless black; . As usual, Vidocq had elected to work from within the prisons, believing that thus he could discover who was the leader of the men responsible for these crimes, but so far he had had no success. Alarmed at the growing hostility of the people, who clamoured for , protection, M. Henry had shut himself in his room with strict orders that no one should pass. He did not hear the door open, and started nervously as man, mu " le to the eyes in a long dark cloak, g 1 e to the table. It was Vidocq, and asi he threw the cape on a chair,, M. e y saw that beneath it was the hideous dress of the galley felon. _ "What news, man?" lie cried ea o erly. "I have sat and brooded over this terrible list of crimes since dawn. My neatt is spinning. For Heaven's sake don t s a at me like that! And why have you retained those clothes?" ! "Because, monsieur, I realised that yo.u would be anxious; I hav® come straight from La Force prison. Monsieur Parisot, the governor, gave me his cape. My news is neither good nor bad. lnne and patience are my best friends. e leader of this band is a ferocious and cunning creature known as JSathan the Jew. No one can describe him with any certainty. Some say m 0 ]S , a twisted hunchback; others d'eclaie ie i» tall. I fancy the fellow has taken a leaf from my book and constantly alters his appearance. .... . i

"A tavern near the river, L'Auberge de Rouen, is, I feel sure, one of their haunts. But they must also have a safe retreat outside the city where they store their loot and keep their prisoners. All my efforts are directed towards the discovery of this secret lair. I suspect several men of being members of Nathan's bard, yet it would avail us little if I arrested them. I must strike only when certain of trapping them all. If the leader escaped he would probably organise another gang." M. Henry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes—l understand; but this queer tale about Baron de Castell's son. You saw the body. Did you examine the eyes ?" "I did. There is no doubt that from grey they have changed to black. At first I was inclined to think the outlaws had substituted someone else, but the mother recognised a scar on his breast and a birthmark. It is her son—without a doubt." "But surely such a thing smacks of the diabolical. How can eyes change 1 colour?" "I do not'believe in demons, monsieur! No, the beasts who abducted the girl and murdered this poor lad are tangible enough. I think their leader possesses some terrible poison unknown to doctors. Their symbol of the staring eyes has assumed a new significance; Nathan knows the effect his poison produces." "Surely a knife thrust .would have been simpler and quite as deadly?" "But not so terrifying. They rightly count on the superstitious dread their Methods will awaken. The next time Nathan demands a ransom it will be paid at once." "And you still hope to find the key to this puzzle at the prison?" "More than ever. There is a fellow at La Force who was arrested some time ago for stabbing a man. His name is Labrousse, and he is either one of the gang; or their sworn enemy, for the man he killed had in his pocket a tiny slip of silver engraved with two eyes. And lately a very handome girl, a foreigner, and a lady it seems, although she wears cheap clothes, has been coming almost daily to the soldiers' quarters at the prison. She pretends to flirt with the guards and brings them brandy, but twice she attempted to bribe them to let

her visit Labrousse. If you will give me a letter for the governor, I will dress aa a soldier and try to gain her confidence. It may be that this girl has been sent to help Labrousse to escape. If so, she shall have every opportunity. I shall watch him day and night and if he docs get free he may lead us to Nathan the Jew." "Why not offer to ecape with him, since he takes you to be a convict?" Because he distrusts me and would refuse my help." M. Henry hastily scribbled a line and handed it to Vidocq. "Do what you like, only, for heaven's sake —succeed!" Vidocq at once hurried to his office in the Rue de Jerusalem, where CocoLacour, the cleverest of his agents, was pacing restlessly to and fro. Lacour was a slyT furtive, rat-faced little Parisian, whose pardon Vidocq had obtained because the fellow knew every criminal den in Paris. Coco-Lacour loved his chief, and in return Vidocq trusted him implicitly. Ordering him to follow, Vidocq entered his private room and quickly transformed himself into a typical water-carrier, while his friend dressed as a nondescript beggar, giving hs appearance just that touch of the cut-purse . which such nocturnal activities would produce. Thus arrayed, they hastened to the foul den by the river which they believed to be one of the haunts of Nathan's men. As Vidocq' stacked his wooden pails beside the entrance, Coco-Lacour feigned to stumble against him and .whispered quickly: • '"Look! The birl! I'll wager she has been watching this place, and our arrival frightened her." A muffled shape had flitted from a doorway and way now hurrying up the steps of a bridge which led to the city. "You are sure it's the girl?" Vidocq queried; in - surprise;

"Yes, mon vieux. That' the wench ■who tried to visit Labrousse. I had a glimpse of her face under the cowl. The moment she saw us she shrank back into the shadow, and now she is off to warn the Jew." "It's much more likely she recognised us and thinks the coast is clear at La Force. "I'll risk it, anyway. Stay here till I return," and, taking a short cut, Vidocq ran swiftly to the gloomy prison. He had guessed her intentions aright, for when he entered the rest-house by the massive gates, dressed as a soldier-guard, the girl was already there, chatting gaily with the men off duty, and serving, them with brandy. Standing unnoticed in the doorway a moment, he perceived that Coco-Latour had not exaggerated when he described her as exceptionally beautiful. The cheap cotton frock, bedecked with tawdry frills, was obviously assumed as a disguise, but emphasised the harmonious lines of her suppleshape, Her eye were large and magnetic, and the lustrous hair made an exquisite frame for the delicate features. Yet behind the seductive smile of carmine lips and dazzling teeth Vidocq sensed a lurking sadness. But he, too, had a part to play, and twirling his gummed moustache, he cried boisterously: "Well met, ma petite! I was just wishing for «, glass of spirit. Since when are you our vivandiere. Ye gods, if you were with Bonaparte's army I'd return to the war at once, although only just well from a wound. What eyes, what cheeks, and, sacre tonnerre, what a mouth to kiss!" and with a sudden twist he seized her shoulders and was about to suit the action to the words when the fear and entreaty in her eyes gave him a queer shock and caused him to desist. He laughed uproariously to cover his confusion, but from that moment a passionate longing for those pouting lips gripped Vidocq, and he slipped easily from a feigned flirtation into earnest wooing. When at last the girl withdrew, they were apparently on the best of terms, and he followed her into the forecourt. After a swift glance to see that no one was near, Vidocq slipped his arm about her waist and whispered: 'You have come here with a purpose, ma belle. Tell me about it. My name is Pierre Petit. Perhaps I can help you."

At the unexpected offer the girl turned and gazed into his eyes, probing his soul. "You!" she cried. "Why should you ?" Then, as though she had said too much: "Well, after all, why not?. I have a friend in this dreadful prison, Jean'Labrousse. He is the victim of a plot, and I would like to talk with the poor fellow. But there are reaons why I cannot apply for permission to the governor." "Oh, that easily arranged —trust Pierre Petit. Come to-morrow at one, when most of the guards are eating or sleeping. I'll wait for you here. But first—a kiss." This time the girl did not resist, and at the sweet contact of her lips Vidocq for a moment forgot his mission and his lost sweetheart, Francme. "Nathan the Jew knows how to clioose his confederates," he muttered angrily, watching her disappear. He had learnt from experience that it was useless to follow. It had been .tried, but the. girl had merely led his men to a maze of foul alleys, where she had abruptly vanished. Instead of returning to the Auberge de Rouen, he sent one of his'men to summon Coco-Lacour and to bring his abandoned pails to the Surete. To his surprise, the little Parisian burst into his office with an exultant shout: "She peeped in at the tavern, Francois. I was sitting in a copier and caught a glimpse of her face. I was out like a flash, and saw her enter a carriage which.had waited by the bridge. Pine big springs it had, that just gave me a grip. It stopped outside the gates of a large house behind the old St. Pierre Church. It didn't take me long to find out who lives there. It was bought three years ago by a foreign nobleman, Don Fernando da Silva. His daughter Isabella is the mysterious vivandiere." "Excellent, nion vieux—you have done well. Still, I wonder why she was so carelese this tim.3. We are not dealing

with fools. They know all about us; even this girl —Isabella, you say? a pretty name—has her wits about her. I believe she knows who I am, and recognised me just now." "What, in those clothes?" Lacour exclaimed incredulously. "Not many men have seen you as you really are. What makes you think so?" "When I offered to help her, she said: 'What —you? Well, after all, why not?' —yet we know she tried to bribe the soldiers. As for my appearance, Vidocq the convict is known in the underworld. Only how did these people discover that Vidocq is " The Parisian finished the sentence with a queer whistle used by criminals as a signal that police are near. Vidocq smiled grimly: "Yes —that's it, she saw through me. If she accepts my help, it's because she hopes to fool me. What is the matter?" For Coco-Lacour had suddenly grasped his arm. "Francois—have you asked yourself what that may mean? How could these bandits know that you are not really a convict —unless —unless —remember, some of the Bat's men got away, among them Cervalet. They knew." At the words Vidocq became deadly pale. '"Heaven grant you are right, and that I shall yet find the man who killed Francine. We must move warily. Surround the house which the girl entered. Whoever leaves must be shadowed. Post men around the river tavern also. That you were able to follow this girl so easily frightens ' me. It looks like a trick. When she meets Labrousse to-morrow I shall watch them. Go now; I • must think." His friend's suggestion that Francine's murderer was, perhaps, among the men he sought had awakened slumbering devils in Vidocq's brain, and he paced his room far into the night, forming sterile plans of vengeance. When, after the midday meal, the girl came to the tryst with a friendly smile, his lips smiled a welcome too, but his eyes were hard and his heart like ice. ' He had arranged for Labrousse to take his midday rest in one of the sheds, where she could speak to him alone, and from his hidden spyhole he watched her greet the convict, and noted the swift motion by which she transferred the means for escape to his hands. But, to his annoyance, their short conversation was meaningless to him, for they spoke in a foreign tongue. s Although he tried hard to play the joyous, carefree soldier when she joined him again, he could not shake off the loathing her mission inspired, and allowed her to go without the kiss she obviously expected, although he marvelled at the look of pain and longing in her eyes. He felt sure that Labrousse would make his bid for freedom the same night, and before donning convict garb he gave concise instructions to CocoLacour in case he should be unable to follow at once; and it was well he did so.

Although Vidocq would have laughed at the mere suggestion that anyone could drug his bowl of nauseous soup, this unbelievable thing happened, and while he fondly thought he was watching Labrousse, his numbed senses failed to note the stealthy rustle and furtive movement as the fellow slipped from his gyves and crept to the door which, at Vidocq's, request, the governor had ordered to be left unlocked and unguarded. He came to himself with a start at the' sound of a faint whistle from outside, and realised instantly how he had been outwitted. A draught of water from his jug partly dispelled the effects of the poison he had swallowed, and without wasting a moment he crept between the rows of sleeping prisoners to the door. Again a whistle sounded from the wall, and at his cautious answer a rope fell in snaky coils at his feet. Although he still felt weak and dizzy, Vidocq quickly gained the overhanging ledge and lowered himself to the ground. CocoLacour, wet and forlorn, was crouching in the shadows, and a group of his men stood not far away. "We lost him, Francois," the Parisian wailed. "Why, in heaven's name, didn't you follow?" Vidocq groaned in despair. "I don't blame you, mon vieux. He fooled us all—l was drugged. Tell me, what happened?" "That rope I threw you was lying here, so we knew where Labrousse would climb down. It has hooks to grip the stones, and a thin cord, which no one would notice, was tied to the end and dangled inside. When we saw it go up we lay flat behind some bushes and waited. Labrousse stopped to pull the rope from the wall and then started off at, a run. He must have suspected he was watched, for he never once looked round, although we were close behind. "When he reached the Seine he followed the path towards the town until he came to the bridge near the Auberge de Rouen, and tlipre, before we could stop him, he sprang into the water. I jumped after him, but —Francois, I swear!—he never came up again. The moment he leapt I shouted to the men to spread out; two even swam acrpss and ran in opposite directions along the bank. He's drowned —I'm sure." ( "Nonsense!" Vidocq growled. "There is probably a hole in the bank, of which he knew, and he held on, keeping only his face out of water until you had gone. I understand now why my help was accepted, although they knew all about me. What bothers me is how he mixed a narcotic with my food." "Easily enough—the convict who served out the rations is also of the band. What now?" "Back to headquarters to snatch some sleep. To-morrow we will examine de Silva's house.' I fancy that is where Labrousse went. I begin to believe the Portuguese nobleman is the mysterious leader of these bandits. But my head throbs like a drum, and I want to think." The next morning Vidocq laid his plans for a simultaneous raid on the tavern and da Silva's house, should Labrousse, indeed, have gone there. Coco-Lacour- had been sent to gather what information he could meanwhile, and Vidocq was swallowing a hasty meal, when his lieutenant stumbled into the room with twitching face and staring eyes. His breath came in gasps, for he had been running—but at last he managed to cry hoarsely: downstairs." "We're all in a tangle, Francoise. Da Silva cannot be Nathan the Jew, for he is dead." "Who is dead, you fool?" Vidocq shouted, shaking his friend fiercely. "Fernando da Silva. He was found dead yesterday morning; and his eyes have changed colour. The doctor is "Take him to my office, The eyes, you say? —and yesterday morning Labrousse was still in priron. I'll come at once." Quickly slipping into the clothes he wore as chief of the Surete, his face transformed by wig and beard, Vidocq entered his office. An elderly man, in sombre dress, rose at his appearance, and bowed. "I am Dr. Ferre-Boitier, monsieur," he said, taking a pinch of snuff. "I thought that you would like to hear of the strange death of a foreign nobleman, Don Fernando da Silva." "Naturally, maitre —strange deaths always interest me. What is the name of your patient?" j "Da Silva —but he was not my patient. I was summoned yesterday morning to a house near the old church of St. Pierre

by a. servant who said his master was dying. As a matter of fact the man was dead, had been dead many hours." "How did he die—this foreigner?" "I cannot say. I found him lying peacefully in bed—but his face was that of a man who has died of sheer terror. The expression was horrible. I thought at first that he had been suffocated —-the blue lips and purple ekin were very suggestive—but the eyes were not bloodshot. While I was examining them, the servant cried suddenly: 'God in heaven, master's eyes were light brown and now they are black —black!' I suspect that the man was poisoned. But I preferred to see you before reporting officially." "And the poison—have you any idea what it is?" The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Something quite unknown to science. Only—l. remembered that when the son of Monsieur de Castell was found near the Seine—his eyes had changed from grey to black." , "But how can such a thing be?" "The eyes do not really change, monsieur, but this poison causes the pupils to dilate to such an extent that the iris becomes invisible —hence they are always black." Vidocq nodded thoughtfully. ' x "I understand. Did you see anyone besides the servant while at this house ?" "Yes, a very beautiful girl. She was kneeling by the bed and sobbing as if her heart would break. I understand the dead man is her father. I wish you good-day, monsieur." The instant the doctor had gone Vidocq jumped to his feet. "Hurry now, a carriage! I must examine the room where da Silva died. No one. must know we suspect a murder has been committed." When the carriage drew up near da Sllva's house Vidocq saw to his dismay that the wall surrounding the spacious grounds was smooth and unbroken and without the slightest foothold. There was nothing for it but to summon the lodge-keeper. Placing his men within call, he was about to do so, when a servant in livery came out. Despite his altered appearance Vidocq recognised him instantly. It was Labrousse, and with a flash of inspiration Vidocq saw his chance. Throwing a heavy cloak over the fellow's head, he

pinioned his arms, and with the assistance of Lacour and his men, who came running at his whistle, Labrousse was bound, gagged and thrust into the carriage which had brought them, and driven to headquarters. "Now, my fine fellow," Vidocq cried, when ropes and scarf had been removed, "you will do exactly as I say or back you go to La Force, whereas if you help me I'll give you a chance to leave the country." "Send me to prison if you like," Labrousse replied sullenly. "I never betray those who trust me." "Put him in a cell," Vidocq ordered curtly. "I shall arrest everyone in that house, while you, Coco, will raid the Auberge de Rouen. Place men on both sides of the river and search all boats. I'll get Nathan and his gang before nightfall." "What?" Labrousse yelled. "Oh, you blind fool! Why didn't you say you were after that fiend? It was Nathan I tried to kill when the police caught me. I stabbed one of the band by mistake. My master has sought him for years. But. he was too clever, and now he has murdered Don Fernando." "So you also believe da Silva was murdered?" "Of course. Nathan the Jew has secretly followed us without respite. It was he who betrayed my master in Portugal and we had to flee to France. He- is after—something—Don Fernando had hidden. Several letters with his diabolical signature found their way into the house, threatening assassination if what he sought was not given willingly. We know at last what those symbolical eyes meant." "By 'we' you mean Mademoiselle Isabella da Silva, the lady who helped you to escape?" "Yes. She had begun to suspect—we both had —who Nathan really is; although we have no proof yet. She needed my help, but I arrived too late. Our every move is watched." "What does this bandit leader look like?" "I don't know," Labrousse answered evasively. "Some eay he is tall and handsome, others swear he is a crooked hunchback —" "Why not tell me what you suspect? Who is Nathan?"

"No, no—l dare not. But, for God's sake, let me return to the house. My mistress is now alone. I -will assist you in every way." "You have not mentioned her uncle, Leon da Silva, who also lives there," Vidocq said quietly, his eyes riveted on the man's face. "He is useless, a dreamer and visionary, and no protection for a young and beautiful girl." ""Well, I cannot release you until I have examined the body and the room where it lies. You need not fear that I shall alarm the bandit's spies. I am going to take your place. You will instruct me so that I can play the part successfully. Wait —first, I'll show you something. Take off your clothes." Labrousse obeyed wonderingly, and Vidocq disappeared into his room. Ten minutes later, while the servant still sat gazing with curious eyes at the door, a gasp of surprise caused him to turn quickly. Standing full in the light from a window, he saw his exact counterpart. So perfect was the disguise that even Lacour emitted an admiring whistle. "Well done, Francois! What an actor the stage lost in you!" Labrousse no longer hesitated, but explained in detail what Vidocq would have to do. When he had finished, the detcctive repeated his instructions word for word, and then, accompanied by Coco-Lacour, drove once more to the house where da Silva lay dead. The key Labrousse had given him made everything simple, and none of the servants noticed the substitution, for' Vidocq possessed the perfect gift of mimicry. Yet he shrank from the first meeting with Isabella, and prayed that she would not examine him too closely. (To he continued next Wednesday.)