“I not needing hospital,” Auger said. “I only needing station of the train.”
Custine looked at Floyd. “Is it me, or did she speak perfect French the last time I saw her?”
“She had a bump on the head.”
“Must have been a bad one.”
“That’s nothing. You should hear what’s happened to her English.”
“What happened to you, Floyd?” Custine asked, noticing Floyd’s bandaged head for the first time. Floyd’s hat, which had rolled off his head in the basement of the Kaspar Metals building when Auger pulled him to safety, had never been retrieved.
“Never mind me. How are you? How is Greta? Is Marguerite still…?”
“I spoke to Greta yesterday. She was—naturally enough—more than a little agitated at your sudden departure.”
“I didn’t have time for a debate. You were there. You know what it was like.”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll forgive you—given time. As for Marguerite… well, she’s still holding on.” Custine slid his hat over one side of his face, masking himself as a police car droned past in the opposite direction. He waited until the car had turned on to a different street before allowing himself to relax again. “I don’t think anyone has much hope of her lasting the week, though.”
“Poor Greta,” Floyd said. “She must be going through hell.”
“All this isn’t exactly helping.” Custine looked uncomfortably at Auger, perhaps wondering how much had taken place between them while they were in Berlin. “She’s still expecting an answer from you,” he said delicately. “That little dilemma hasn’t gone away in your absence.”
“I know,” Floyd said heavily.
“You have to make a decision sooner or later. It’s only fair.”
“I can’t think straight until we get out of this mess,” Floyd said. “And that means clearing your name. Not much point in handing over the investigation business to you if you’re going to be running it from prison, is there?”
Custine shook his head. “Leave it, Floyd. They will always find a way to take me down. I can be out of Paris by the middle of the week. I have friends in Toulouse… a man who can create a new identity for me.”
“I just spoke to Maillol again. He still thinks he can get you off the hook if I turn up another suspect.”
“Put it like that, it almost sounds easy.”
“It won’t be. But before I can help you, I have to help Mademoiselle Auger.”
“Then take her to a hospital, irrespective of her wishes.”
“She made it pretty clear, Custine—there’s something down in that station that can help her. That’s why we’re going to Cardinal Lemoine.”
“When was she shot?”
“Yesterday—nearly twenty-four hours ago.”
“Then she is more than likely delirious. In this instance, Floyd, the patient is very much not to be trusted.”
“I trust her. She’s been saying the same thing since she was shot. She knows what’s best for her.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know,” Floyd said. “But after all I’ve seen, I’m beginning to have my doubts about the Dakota story.”
Custine and Michel dropped them at the entrance to Cardinal Lemoine, then sped away into the traffic. It was nine in the morning, in the thick of the rush-hour, and no one paid much heed to either Floyd or Auger. Floyd’s injury was obvious to anyone, even more so now that he had lost his hat. But a man with a bandaged head only attracted so much attention. An argument in a bar, an altercation with a lover or rival… there were infinite possibilities, and an equally infinite number of reasons not to ask. As for Auger, Floyd had cleaned, sterilised and dressed her wounds before they left Berlin, using pieces of cloth torn from his jacket as bandages, and once again before the train arrived in Paris. With a few layers of clothes on, the makeshift dressing wasn’t obvious, and the only thing that marked her out as unwell was a stiffness on her right side and a paleness about her face. Floyd tucked her good arm around his and guided her into the tiled depths of the station, moving with the flow of the other commuters.
If the bullet or bullets had done serious harm, she would be dead by now. Internal bleeding killed you a lot sooner than this. But sepsis was a different matter. He wasn’t sure exactly know how long it took to set in, but he knew it could be a slow and unpleasant way to go.
“I hope you’re right about this,” he said, pressing his mouth to her ear and speaking English.
“I am right. Trust me, OK?”
“I take it there are other people down there who can help you?”
“Yes.”
“I need some proof,” Floyd insisted. “I can’t just let you stroll into the tunnel and hope for the best.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s exactly what you’ve got to do.”
He stopped on the stairs, letting the other passengers find their way past them.
“You’ll let me know where I can find you later, won’t you? I have to see you again, to know you’re going to be OK.”
“I’ll be fine, Floyd.”
“I still want to see you.”
“Just to know I’m well?”
“More than that. You know how I feel. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think I know how you feel as well.”
“It couldn’t ever work out between us,” she said.
“We could at least try.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Because that would only put off the inevitable. It won’t work. It couldn’t ever work.”
“But if you wanted it to—”
“Floyd, listen to me. I like you a lot. I meant everything I said in Berlin. Maybe I even love you. But that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t ever be together.”
“Why? We’re not so very different.”
“We’re more different than you realise. By now you’ve probably figured out a thing or two about me. Believe me, whatever it is you think you know isn’t even close to the truth.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“I can’t. All I can tell you is that no matter what feelings we might have for each other, we can’t be together.”
“Is there someone else back home?”
“No,” she said, a little quietly. “As a matter of fact, there isn’t. There used to be, but I liked my work too much and I slowly squeezed him out of my life. But there is someone else in your life, Floyd.”
“You mean Greta? Sorry, but it’s over between us.”
“She’s beautiful and clever, Floyd. If she’s giving you a chance to start over again, I’d take it.”
“Her chance means leaving behind everything and everyone I know in this city.”
“Still sounds like a good offer to me.”
“You’re just trying to get me to walk away, with no regrets.”
“Is that so wrong of me?”
“I can’t help the way I feel about you. Greta’s the one who left. I can see that she’s beautiful and clever, but she just isn’t a part of my life any more.”
“Then more fool you.”
Auger slipped free of him and resumed her progress down the stairs, towards the bustling underground platform. Floyd caught up with her a moment later, slipping his arm through hers again.
“You never really answered my question,” he said. “Will I see you again, when they’ve fixed you up?”
“No,” she said. “You won’t see me again.”
“I’ll stake out every station in Paris. I’ll always find you.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was some other way of ending this, but I don’t want to give you false hopes. I think you deserve better than that.”
A train slid into the station as they reached the platform. “Auger,” Floyd said. “You can’t hide in that tunnel for ever. I’ll always be waiting for you.”
“Don’t, Floyd,” she said. “Don’t waste the rest of your life on me. I’m not worth it.”