And so, listening to Jeanne, arguing, teasing, Catherine began to make plans. She would have to throw a very important personage to the King of Spain; she would have to carry out the first part of that pact which she had made with Alva at Bayonne.
Of course, she had always disliked Jeanne. There had always been that uncomfortable knowledge that her existence meant no good to Catherine. Philip would be pleased to see the woman out of the way. He would know with certainty then that the Queen Mother worked with him.
So while she talked with Jeanne her thoughts moved away from and beyond the marriage pact. She pictured the pact signed, Henry of Navarre at court bound to Margot, and then – the end of Jeanne of Navarre.
The Ruggieri? They were too timid. René would be the best man.
She must therefore get the contract signed, tie up the Prince, and make the marriage possible. Then she could proceed with her plans for war with Spain while she lulled Philip’s fears by removing the woman whom he recognised as one of his deadliest foes.
Charles would be useful at this stage. His friendship with Coligny must be extended to the Queen of Navarre. Catherine spent much time with the King, explaining to him the part he must play.
Accordingly he was seen a good deal with Jeanne; she was, he said, his dear aunt. He told her of his love for Coligny. He was very useful in subduing Jeanne’s fears.
‘If there should be any trouble with the Pope,’ said Charles, ‘we will get Margot married en pleine prêche.’
And so, at last, Jeanne of Navarre signed the marriage contract between her son and the Princess Margot; and thus was Catherine free to go ahead with her plans.
The court had moved to Paris, and with it went Jeanne of Navarre.
‘There must be preparations for the wedding,’ said Catherine, ‘and you will wish to take advantage of all that Paris can offer you. I myself will take you to my best dressmakers, my own glove-makers, my parfumeurs.’
Jeanne suppressed misgivings and went. Coligny assured her that this was a new dawn for the Huguenot Party, and that she could trust her son to adhere to his faith. She must realise that, pleasure-loving as he was, he was not weak as his father had been.
Catherine was delighted to be in her beloved Paris. It was exhilarating to slip out through the secret passage, a shawl about her head, and enter the shop on the quay opposite the Louvre.
René at once recognised her. He was delighted that it was to him that she came. For so long he had been the rival of the Ruggieri brothers.
She asked to be taken into his secret chamber, and thither she was conducted immediately.
‘Monsieur René,’ she said, throwing off her shawl and putting on her regal dignity, ‘I have a commission for you. You must let me know if you are willing to undertake it.’
‘My greatest desire, Madame,’ he said, ‘is to serve your Majesty.’
‘Wait before you commit yourself, my friend. The person involved is of very high rank.’ She scrutinised the face of the man, but he did not flinch. She went on: ‘Her death must be brought about swiftly and subtly. There may be suspicion, however cleverly it is performed. There may be an autopsy. I would not wish you to undertake this until you have considered all that it may mean. I have come to you because I believe you to be more fearless than your fellows.’
‘Madame, I shall be fearless in your Majesty’s service.’
‘How do your experiments go, Monsieur René?’
‘Very well, Madame. I have a substance which can be inhaled through the nose or through the pores of the skin.’
‘That is not so very novel.’
‘But a substance, your Majesty, which, a few days after it is inhaled, will leave no deposit in the victim’s body, a substance which will aggravate any disease from which the victim may be suffering, so that if the body is opened after death, it would appear that he, or she, has died of this disease.’
‘That is interesting, Monsieur René. And if the victim were not suffering from some disease, what then?’
‘Death would come, but it would be impossible for any to find out the cause.’
‘That in itself would arouse suspicion. Tell me, have you tested the reliability of the substance?’
‘I have buried four serving wenches, all of whom I treated with this substance.’
‘And how long was it before death came?’
‘A matter of days. Except in one case, Madame. She was suffering from an ulcer. Her death was immediate.’
‘So you are sure you can rely on this substance?’
‘Absolutely, Madame.’
‘It seems similar to your aqua Tofana.’
‘Similar, Madame. But this substance leaves no trace.’
‘Tell me how you have procured such a substance. You know these matters interest me.’
‘It is a complicated process, Madame, but similar to that which produces our venin de crapaud.’
‘Arsenic is one of the most dangerous of poisons, preserving the body as it does. If there should be an opening of the body after death …’
‘But this, I would tell your Majesty, does not contain arsenic. It is similar to the venin de crapaud only in its early stages of production. I have fed arsenic to toads and when the creatures are dead, after a certain period have distilled the juices of the body. These contain the virus of arsenic and, of course, the poisons of decomposition. Then I eliminate the arsenic. Nor is that all. But the process of the details would weary you, and it is complicated and not easy to explain.’
Catherine laughed. ‘Keep your secrets, Monsieur René. I shall respect them. Why should others reap the benefit of your experiments?’
‘If you would care to step into my laboratory, I would show your Majesty what I have prepared of this substance.’
Catherine rose and followed him through several dark passages until they came to an underground cellar. It was warm in here because of the great fire which burned in the stove, the smoke of which fire escaped through a pipe in the wall. On the benches were skeletons of animals, and on the walls had been drawn cabalistic signs. Catherine was well acquainted with the tools of the trade of such men as René and the Ruggieri. Her eyes glowed as she looked at the bottles which contained liquids of all colours, and the boxes of mysterious powders.
René took a phial of liquid of a sickly green colour which he showed her.
‘This, Madame, is the most valuable and deadly poison that has yet been made. In this it is possible to steep some article – a glove, a ruff, a trinket; the article absorbs the liquid immediately and is almost at once dry. The poison will remain in the article until it is placed in a certain temperature. The heat of the body, for instance, would draw the poison out in the form of vapour; it would be absorbed into the body through the pores of the skin.’
Catherine nodded. This was no great surprise. The men of her country were the cleverest poisoners in the world. They guarded their secrets jealously, and it was said that some carried them with them to the grave because they could not bear to share them. No matter what qualities a new poison was reputed to possess, Catherine was prepared to believe in it; she had seen enough in her lifetime to know that these sorcerers from her native land could manufacture poisons, the action of which would seem incredible to the rest of the world.
‘It is good that you have such confidence, Monsieur René,’ she said, ‘for when an eminent person dies, there is much suspicion, and if there should be an autopsy and poison were discovered – well, it might be remembered that the lady called at your shop.’