The Dreeson Incident(124)

"To ensure that he does the work that we want him to do. In the way we want him to do it. On the schedule we have laid out."



"Four supervisors to one laborer seems somewhat excessive," Brillard commented.



"There will be work for Fortunat and Gui when it comes closer to the day. Someone must draw up the charts that design who, holding what weapon, will stand where, in the market square."



Ancelin frowned, once more pulling out his map of the Croat raid. "There is no market square. Not even a market, as far as I can figure out." He spread it on the table. "See, we have gone over it before. The synagogue is one house over from a corner building. It fronts on a street, not a square. The bridges are nearby, but not immediately in front of it."





"I am getting very tired of that map," Brillard said.



"Memorize it," Locquifier advised him. The day is coming when you will need to have the layout very clear in your mind."



"Very well."



"And do not worry about four supervisors. Fortunat will find out for himself very soon that neither Boucher nor Turpin could supervise a small child taking a bath, much less a complex undertaking."



"Small children in baths are very slippery. My sister has three of them, so I have some reason to know."



"What we are planning is very slippery, as well. You are preparing for your own part?"



"I spend some time every day at the shooting range. The owner knows me as one Matthias Bruller, from Alsace. A partisan, he suspects, for Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar." He smiled. "It was Michel's mention of Charles Mademann that gave me the idea to choose that particular pseudonym. Alsace is such a convenient place, the way French and Germans, Catholics and Protestants, intermingle."





"A job well done," Soubise said. "Thank you, Sandrart."



Joachim Sandrart bowed.



"A loose end. Perhaps not a crucial one. But it was d'Avaux who took Ducos to Italy, d'Avaux who did not control the man once he was there. Ultimately, therefore, d'Avaux who can be considered responsible for the entire Galileo debacle.



"It is amusing, in a way, that Mazarin arranged to send d'Avaux to Brittany. Of course, he is Italian. Perhaps, it did not immediately spring to his mind that the Rohan family does not lack influence there." Soubise drummed his fingers on the table. "My sister-in-law will see to it, then, that the count's tenure in his new position is unpleasant? More unpleasant than even Mazarin intended that it should be?"



"A more appropriate choice of word might be 'miserable.' 'Wretched,' even. A view in which your sister, Mademoiselle Anne, seemed to concur."



"Then, Joachim, we may rest easy that d'Avaux' life, henceforth, will be a lamentable experience. Even in the unlikely event that he should elude the watchers placed on him by the . . . newly naturalized cardinal."



"Your sister seemed quite enthusiastic about planning measures to ensure it."



Sandrart paused, then continued.



"It is a pity that Mademoiselle Anne was unable to marry. The travails of your family after the death of Henri IV prevented your mother from arranging a suitable match, I presume. She would have brought forth redoubtable sons."



"Anne does not perceive it as a misfortune. Aside from Catherine, may God rest her soul, my sisters chose not to marry. A choice more easily achieved, for a noblewoman, when, as in the case of our family, her father is long since dead by the time she reaches marriageable age. Henriette died ten years ago. She was a quite special friend of Catherine de Mayenne, the duchess of Nevers—Carlo Gonzaga's wife, in Mantua. They exchanged verses. When Catherine died in 1618, Henriette was devastated. Her spirits never recovered."



"Ah." Sandrart nodded his head.



"And you met Anne."



Sandrart inclined his head again. "She is quite impressive. Very learned."



"A remarkable woman. With my late mother, she was the soul of La Rochelle's resistance during the siege in 1627, the one marked by Buckingham's disaster on Ile de Re." Soubise turned his head. "You know la Gentileschi, do you not? You were traveling with her from Rome?"



"Assuredly."



"My mother as a young woman, scarcely twenty years of age, wrote a play which was performed at La Rochelle. Judith et Holopherne. I believe that Gentileschi has painted this theme?"



"Several times."



"Obtain one for me, if you would be so kind. If she has none available that she has painted as a studio project, commission a new one. Oil on canvas. Talk to my steward about costs." Soubise rose from his chair.