A Man in Uniform by Kate Taylor Read Free Book Online

envelope, and removed the pages that were inside.
    They were a thick pile of newspaper clippings surrounding the arrest, conviction, and deportation of her friend’s husband, a certain Captain Dreyfus. Dubon remembered the case. There had been a furor about it two years previously, but he had completely forgotten the man’s name. The convicted spy had come to be known simply as “the Jewish traitor” and the story eventually had dropped from the papers.
    “These are newspaper clippings, Madame.”
    “Yes. A great deal was written about the case at the time, and I kept them all. I thought they might be of use to you.”
    “Yes, Madame. I expect they will. Very useful. But I was looking for the
legal
file.”
    “The legal file?”
    “Yes. The documents relating to the court martial.”
    “Well, Maître, I don’t …” The widow lowered her eyes. She appeared almost bashful for a moment as though she had been caught in some deception. “That is to say, my friend doesn’t really have access to such material. It is in the safekeeping of her brother-in-law’s lawyers.”
    “Not a problem, Madame. Just give me the name of the firm, and I’ll liaise with them.”
    “No, Maître. You don’t understand. When I told you my friend does not know of my efforts … that is to say, you must work independently of the family.”
    Dubon drummed his fingers lightly on the desk. Really, he did have to find someone else who could help this woman. He supposed the great Déon, the legal giant in the office upstairs, would only send her about her business.
    “At least you can tell me the nature of the case against your friend’s husband,” he said, trying to suppress any tone of annoyance. “You did say the army had evidence of a spy.”
    The widow paused as though considering her answer and now raised her head.
    “Yes, there was a document of some kind, I believe. A document the French intercepted on its way to the German embassy, a letter from someone within the ranks offering to sell secrets to the Germans.” She paused again before continuing more forcefully. “But it was unsigned, Maître. I know that for certain, there was no signature. Why do they think the captain wrote it? They just picked him because they needed someone, they had to pick someone …”
    “A scapegoat, you mean?”
    “Yes, that’s right, exactly. A scapegoat. Oh, I knew you would understand the case, Maître.”
    Dubon tried to nod wisely but sensed they were getting nowhere. The widow seemed to have only the vaguest notions of the evidence against her friend’s husband.
    “Did the army perhaps analyze the handwriting of the letter?” he asked, trying to remember what he had read in the press at the time.
    “Yes, that’s right. An expert testified, a Monsieur … Ber … Berceau … Bertille …”
    “Bertillon?” She nodded at the name. “Bertillon testified! What did he say?”
    “You know him, Maître? Is he very respected?”
    “Yes, he’s well known in legal circles. He has a system for identifying criminals—well, for identifying anybody, I guess. He goes around the jails measuring their earlobes and the like, noting any moles, that kind of thing.”
    “To what purpose?” The widow seemed genuinely intrigued.
    “To identify them in relation to any other crimes, I guess. Suppose you had a very thorough description but no name of a culprit in one case, and then you arrested someone for another crime. If you had some kind of cross-referencing system, you might discover both crimes were committed by the same person.”
    “It sounds sensible.”
    “Yes. I always thought it seemed a bit far-fetched, the earlobes and all that, but my colleagues in criminal justice say it’s revolutionizing the police courts.”
    “You doubt the idea that no two sets of human earlobes are alike?” she asked wryly.
    “Or more to the point in this case, I doubt that everyone’s handwriting is unique. I had never heard Bertillon was a