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"For want of a nail the shoe is lost, for want of a shoe
the horse is lost, for want of a horse the rider is lost."
-- George Herbert
Vidocq was restless. But, as in a man of his fiber, where drive
is essential, genius is usually the result. In 1832, at 58 years
old, not long after retiring from the Sureté, he created one more
benchmark to become a role model of his industry. He opened the
world's first formal private detective agency.
Freelance private investigation – a client-dedicated operation
of crime solution without the bureaucratic quagmire -- had never
been heard of until Vidocq created the occupation. As he had done
with the creation of the Sureté, he again brought a new challenge
to criminals and a new advantage to law abiders; his was a system of
law enforcement that Allan J. Pinkerton was to emulate twenty years
later in Chicago.
In advertising his business, he wrote, not humbly but concisely,
"For a long time, I have been maturing the project which I now
put before the public, and which, it may be, I alone can
successfully undertake and realize."
Vidocq's shingle and business cards read, "Le Bureau de
Renseignements," or "Office of Intelligence". The
cases Vidocq took were of a particular concentration, aimed at
eradicating Paris of financial cheats and sycophants who craftily
took advantage of individuals and business during what Philip John
Stead calls "the money-mad, mercantile city of (King) Louis
Phillipe (in) that great age of capitalism."
The writer Stead goes on: "Vidocq could isolate and attack a
kind of criminal which had grown with the economic change itself.
This time the hunt was up for the parasites that preyed on commerce,
the swindlers and the confidence men, the apparently easy and
leisured individuals who lived on perpetual and never-to-be
liquidated credit. All those dandies with...smart apartments in the
Chaussée d'Antin, the tilbury with the English horses, clothes by
Chevreuil, gloves by Walker, hats from Bandoni, boots by Concanon,
cane by Thomassin, cigar case by Giroux! Some of the big men even
turned banker (who) cleaned up fast by getting false drafts honored
by other banks. When things got too hot, the whole establishment
moved elsewhere and opened under another name."
Using the same it-takes-a-thief-to-know-one principle, as had
been the foundation of his Sureté, Vidocq hired as his agents many
reformed swindlers. These men knew the perpetrators, the schemes,
the plays, and the circuit.
In less than two years, the agency had, to its credit, rounded up
a small army of charlatans who would have otherwise continued to gyp
and embezzle banks, law offices, shipping firms and other
establishments that had had the sense to hire Vidocq. At one period,
appraisers estimated that Vidocq's Bureau de Renseignements had
recovered 60,000 francs in stolen property from eleven assorted
clients.
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Vidocq in about 1841 (Bilbiotheque
Nacionale, Paris) |
As the business grew, Vidocq's staff rose to a personnel of
twenty men and he began taking general theft cases now, also, which
brought in a vast number of new clients. From time to time, agents
took on impromptu cases, such as finding missing persons. Some of
these were rather out of the ordinary. Take the young woman who had
vanished from home to hide out, where Vidocq traced her down, in the
Convent of Sainte-Michele. She had left her lover and children when
she felt she was becoming too materialistic; confused and feeling
guilty, she sought coventry from the superficiality of the world.
After some coaxing, Vidocq convinced her to return to the people who
cared for her and to take each day at a time. |
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The agency moved twice from 1834 to 1836, each time to a more
fashionable area, from the original location on the Rue Cloche-Perce
to the Rue Pont Louis-Philippe, overlooking the Seine, thence to the
busy Rue Nueve-Sainte-Eustache. In 1838, he opened his doors onto
the busiest commercial area in Paris, Galerie Vivienne.
The Galerie, relates Stead, "outdid the Palais-Royal in
terms of elegance and popularity. It was the smartest center in
Paris, and the world of fashion patronized its modistes and couturiéres,
perfumers and confectioners; their fine new glass fronts shone
before exquisite and imaginative displays."
Daybreak through the door of Number 13, which cut ominously into
the façade of the Galerie, the figure of Vidocq could be seen
entering every day; up a tight flight of stairs, past its wrought
iron fancies, and into the suite of chambers beyond where, the
office never closing, a dozen agents were already making out
reports, interviewing clients or suspects and waiting to see their
master on a matter that could not wait. Much after dark, lantern
light flickered through the portieres reminding passersby on the
avenue below that Vidocq was catching crooks.
His old enemies at the Prefecture continued to be obsessed with
Vidocq's fame. Even though they had pushed him from the Sureté, it
wasn't enough; they wanted the venerable old man gone from the scene
of Paris. As long as there was Vidocq arresting and indicting, they
knew the people of Paris would be comparing them to him – and
there was no comparison. Even the brother of the current head of the
Sureté, when his bank was embezzled, had gone to Vidocq – not the
police -- for recovery of the money. Now, even on his own, Vidocq
was embarrassing the authorities, being viewed as the man to go to
when in trouble.
The recorded history of the Champaix case, as will be related
here, seems to indicate that the powers-that-be finally gathered to
set him up for disaster. Although Vidocq himself claimed that it was
a frame-up, history claims no proof, only surmising. But, Vidocq
suddenly found himself in a wedge that nearly ruined everything he
had aspired for, including his good name.
It began simply enough, this matter. In late summer, 1842, a band
of tradesmen hired Vidocq to hunt down and prosecute a swindler by
the name of Champaix who, under false accreditation, had borrowed
trade and money from their shops before disappearing into oblivion.
They wanted to be repaid and were willing to give Vidocq 45 percent
of the accumulated renumeration if he could nab Champaix. The case
fell into Vidocq's expertise and he quickly accepted it.
Champaix was not a notorious fellow, but a roustabout who had
scored a big hit on unsuspecting business types. As he was more of
an artful dodger than anything, he managed to elude even the
shadow-chasing Bureau de Renseignements for some time. At last, an
informant named Landier approached Vidocq and agreed to lead him to
Champaix for a price. A handshake followed and the next morning,
August 12, Landier ushered Vidocq and a few of his agents to the Rue
de Bac on the riverfront, where indeed they caught their man,
unprepared, on the boardwalk.
Back at the Bureau de Renseignements' offices, a trembling
Champaix admitted his crime and tearfully agreed to turn over a
savings of 2,200 francs to the cheated clients; he also signed
contracts of obligation promising to return the remainder of monies
owed within a reasonable span of time. Vidocq, not sensing a
desperate character, didn't prosecute, but released him on his own
faith, even giving the hungry man money for that night's supper.
Case closed. He contacted his clients and gave them the good news.
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The Conciergerie (The Travel Library) |
Before the week had ended, the present Chief Inspector of the
Sureté, leading a brigade of gendarmes, arrested Vidocq at
the Galerie Vivienne. Charging him with false arrest, unlawful
detention of a prisoner and obtaining money under false pretense,
they threw him into the dreaded Conciergerie, the 14th Century
castle-prison that fifty years earlier had held Marie Antoinette and
so-many royalty before they were guillotined during the Reign of
Terror. |
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Throughout the winter months, 67-year-old Vidocq lay in the
rat-infested dampness of the ancient fortress, unable to hear the
details of the charges set against him. He was treated no better
than the worst criminal there. In fact, Vidocq feared for his life
since many of the worst criminals there were men he had helped
commit. He wrote his wife that he was afraid to go to the lavatory
lest his throat be cut. Suffering from rheumatism, his health went
untreated until his wife Fleuride, after many supplications, was
permitted to visit him, briefly, and attend to him.
As Spring and his trial neared, he received right to obtain a
lawyer. Through his chosen attorney – the brilliant Jules Favre
– Vidocq at last was able to read his indictment. Champaix, the
man he had treated so humanely, claimed that he was arrested under
false pretense -- that Vidocq had claimed to be an officer of the
King -- and that he was coerced into handing over the 2,200 francs
for fear of his life.
The charges reeked of duplicité.
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The Palais de Justice (Richard Glover) |
Court opened May 3, 1843, at the Palais de Justice to a packed
courtroom; the public pressed to see their hero who they were sure
had been unjustly accused. In court, under the watchful eye of
President Monsieur Barbou, Champaix attested that when Vidocq
approached him on the Rue de Bac he had ordered him to stop "in
the name of the law!" It was only later, he claimed, when
delivered by hansom cab to the Bureau de Renseignements that he
realized he had been apprehended not by the official police but by a
private detective. The swindler also testified that the agents
roughly interrogated him through the night in a hot, stifling small
room, threatening him with bodily harm, until he agreed to hand over
his life savings.
In turn, Vidocq answered the allegations. In the first place, he
denied having ever impersonated an officer of the law. When meeting
Champaix on the street, his greeting had been, "Good morning,
monsieur. Have you any money for your creditors?" He then
introduced himself and, without pressure, asked if the man would
accompany him to his headquarters to talk over the situation.
Champaix agreed. At no time throughout the ride was the man held
against his will and could have jumped from the conveyance had he
the notion to do so.
As for his detention at the Bureau de Renseignments and his
treatment there, Vidocq explained that their session was held in a
very open room, adjacent to the foyer, and which opened onto a busy
public terrace. This claim was supported by witnesses who saw
Champaix chatting freely, looking relaxed and under no restraint
whatsoever. A client of Vidocq's told of meeting Champaix on the
street the day after and, when asking him what he was doing at the
Bureau, Champaix confessed what had transpired, heartily
complimenting Vidocq's all-too-fair treatment of him.
In summary, Champaix came to the Bureau de Renseignments fully
aware that he was dealing with Vidocq the private detective, was
never manhandled, and of his own concurrence arranged to deposit the
2,200 francs into Vidocq's account as a payment toward the bet he
owed his victims.
Defense Attorney Jules Favre brought into court dozens of people
who vouched for Vidocq's ethics, including proprietors of business
who had hired him to collect large amounts of debt; his conduct and
his honesty, they lauded, were both exemplary.
Favre also hinted at an official hoodwink, asserting that the
police had confiscated Vidocq's private business ledgers unlawfully
and interviewed a throng of people in order to find one disparaging
remark about Eugene Francois Vidocq. "You had him arrested and
made a thorough search of his files. He keeps everything, the most
insignificant letters as well as those most able to compromise him.
You have not stopped there; you have called before you people with
whom he has done business – more than five hundred of them. Well,
speak. Have you found one with cause of complaint against him? Have
you been able to marshal them in support of the charge? Not one of
them has been able to tell the judiciary that Vidocq has been a
disloyal agent –except the one –" and he pointed to
Champaix. "And yet that plaintiff has been several times before
the courts and received just retribution for his actions."
The crowd cheered, but the panel of jurists under officiate
Barbou were less impressed with the defense. Found guilty, Vidocq
was sentenced to five years in prison and was fined 3,000 francs as
added punishment. Paris was stunned.
But, no sooner had the echo of Barbou's gavel died away than the
Court of Appeals threw out the verdict. Reviewing the case, the
appellate ruled that Vidocq's conduct was entirely professional from
beginning to end and that no subterfuge had been committed.
The following day, Vidocq's agency reopened for business. In the
arched windows facing Galerie Vivienne smiling pedestrians read
decorative signs of large scrolled letters reading, Résurrection!
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