The Kill

While Renée, luxuriously installed in the apartment on the rue de Rivoli, right in the middle of the new Paris of which she was soon to become one of the queens, pondered her future wardrobe and tried her hand at the life of the socialite, her husband devoted himself to his first important business transaction. His first move was to buy from his wife the house on the rue de la Pépinière, using a certain Larso

“My dear,” he said gallantly, “these will do for your rags.”

Once he was in possession of the house, he was shrewd enough to resell it twice to fronts, raising the price each time. The final buyer paid no less than 300,000 francs for the property. Meanwhile, Larso

Confiscation by eminent domain—the powerful machine that bulldozed its way through Paris for fifteen years, leaving wealth and ruin in its wake—could not be simpler in its operation. As soon as the decision to build a new street is made, surveyors map out the affected parcels of land and estimate the value of the properties. In the case of rental properties, they make inquiries to determine the income stream from rentals in order to calculate an approximate value of the building as a capital investment. The indemnity commission, made up of members of the municipal council, then makes an offer that is always less than this calculated figure, knowing that the owners will ask for more and that the eventual price will be reached through compromise. If agreement ca

Saccard, who had decided to remain in his job at city hall until after the crucial decisions were taken, had briefly entertained the impudent idea of having himself named as estimator on the boulevard Malesherbes project, which would have allowed him to set the value of his own house. But he was afraid that in doing so he would inhibit his ability to exert influence on the members of the indemnity commission. So he had one of his colleagues appointed instead, a pleasant, amiable young man named Michelin, whose strikingly beautiful wife often appeared in person to present her husband’s excuses to his superiors when he stayed away from work. He stayed away frequently. Saccard had observed that the lovely Mme Michelin, who had such a discreet way of slipping into offices when doors were left ajar, could work wonders. Michelin came away from each of his illnesses with a promotion; he made his way in life by taking to his bed. During one of his absences, when he was sending his wife to the office nearly every morning with news of his condition, Saccard twice ran into him on the outer boulevards smoking his cigar with his usual expression of bemused delight. These encounters left Saccard with sympathy for both this fine young man and this happy couple, which had demonstrated such ingenuity and pragmatism in its dealings with the bureaucracy. Indeed, he admired any skillfully operated money machine. After securing the appointment for Michelin, he went to see the young man’s charming wife, insisted on introducing her to Renée, and spoke in her presence of his brother the deputy and illustrious speechmaker. Mme Michelin got the point. From that day on, her husband reserved his most significant smiles for his colleague. Saccard, who did not want to take the worthy youth into his confidence, simply turned up as if by chance on the day the building on the rue de la Pépinière was to be inspected. He offered his assistance. Michelin, who was stupider and more empty-headed than one might imagine, followed the instructions given him by his wife, who had recommended that he do everything possible to please M. Saccard. In any case, he suspected nothing. He thought that the clerk wanted him to hurry through his work so that they could go off together to a café. The leases, the rental receipts, and Mme Sidonie’s amazing books passed through his colleague’s hands while Saccard looked on, and there was not even time to verify the figures, which Saccard himself read out loud. Larso

“Go ahead, put it down as 500,000 francs,” Saccard said in the end. “The house is worth more. . . . Hurry up, I think there’s going to be a change in perso

That sealed the deal. Saccard was still anxious, though. He was afraid that the 500,000-franc figure might strike the indemnity commission as somewhat inflated for a house well-known to be worth 200,000 at best. The remarkable rise in real estate values had yet to take place. An investigation would have subjected him to a risk of serious unpleasantness. He remembered what his brother had said to him: “No unseemly scandals, or I’ll get rid of you.” And he knew Eugène to be the kind of man to carry out such a threat. The honorable members of the commission would need to have the wool pulled over their eyes, and their goodwill would have to be secured. He looked to two influential men whose friendship he had won by the way he greeted them in hallways when they met. The thirty-six members of the municipal council were handpicked by the Emperor himself, on the prefect’s recommendation, from among the senators, deputies, lawyers, doctors, and leading industrialists who knelt most devoutly before the majesty of the government. Of all of them, however, two had earned the favor of the Tuileries by their zealousness: Baron Gouraud and M. Toutin-Laroche.