The cloud, the hurricane, the fierceness were all there as if on the bench. ‘She was cut open, that mistress of yours, Judge. Deliberately disembowelled and allowed to run-ah! forgive me, Madame Rouget, mademoiselle. The detective in me slips up from time to time.’
‘Cut open …’ blanched the daughter, throwing wounded eyes at her mother who savoured the news only to realize this Surete had seen beyond such an impulse to its harder truth.
‘Ah, mon Dieu, Judge, the 1849 to 1850s twenty-centime black. The blue also, though it was never issued. The Vervelle, the colonials … A stunning collection. Perfect if donated-is it to be donated to the Nation on your death?’
‘Inspector …’
‘Madame, this collection, except for its rebinding, matches entirely one that was stolen at between twelve twenty and twelve thirty a.m., Friday, but it’s curious, I must admit. You see, though my partner and I were definitely not to have investigated that crime, the gold louis that were also in the safe were not taken by the thief or thieves. A simple smash-and-grab one would otherwise have thought, but done to order. It must have been, that little something left as hush money.’
Everyone said St-Cyr was despicable, thought Vivienne, a cuckold who would gladly have forgiven that wife of his if he could have. A seeker of truth with the holier-than-thou attitude of a martyr!
But when met and held, the deep-brown eyes registered neither condemnation nor forgiveness and understanding, only an inherent curiosity. ‘If you think I am about to inquire as to how it is you have concluded such a thing, Inspector, you are very much mistaken. I purchased that collection from a very reputable source, and only after much deliberation.’
‘I’m sure you did, but please bear with me. You see, those gold louis were borrowed by the flic who was first on the scene.’
‘The fool! Did you arrest him?’ demanded Rouget.
‘Judge, don’t look for sparrows among the crumbs. Leave such things to the hawks of a reformed conscience since the flic, though tempted, has a family and he put the louis back next day for me to find when I called on Monsieur Felix Picard of Au Philateliste Savant in the passage Jouffroy.’
‘Denise, take your mother to the toilettes for a tidy-up.’
‘Judge, you are under instruction. Please don’t be difficult. We’ll get to Elene Artur and the child she was carrying soon enough.’
‘ESPECE DE SALAUD! LECHEUR DE CHATTE!’
Fucking bastard; cunt-licker … ‘HERCULE, NOT IN PUBLIC!’
‘MAMAN, LOWER YOUR VOICE!’
All conversation ceased in this culinary paradise, all eyes were on the table. Some stood for a better look, among them the Standartenfuhrer Langbehn, who let his napkin fall to the floor and then cautioned a waiter not to pick it up.
‘Judge, before that one reaches us, it’s my considered belief that Elene Artur was disembowelled to find the fetus she was carrying and dispose of it. Fortunately my partner recovered the body of what would have been your son.’
Kohler let the match flame linger as a shiver ran through Germaine de Brisac, green eyes wincing as she drew on the cigarette he’d given her. ‘Merci,’ she muttered-guilty, was she, of knowing too much? Damned afraid, in any case. He’d make her sit here in the car on place du Parvis, would let her feel the pitch-dark silhouette of the Hotel-Dieu, would let her freeze in that woven shawl with its threads of burnished copper-gold that set off the colour of her hair and eyes, the Schiaparelli dress, silk stockings, high heels and brand-new camel-hair overcoat with its broad lapels and turn-down flaps, her perfume exquisite. A woman of exceptional taste, with emerald drop earrings from Cartier to catch the last of the match’s flame, and so much for the cigarette lighter that had recently been acquired. He’d take his time with her until she realized he wasn’t going to get out from behind the Citroen’s wheel until he had squeezed every last little thing out of her.
Then he’d make her visit Adrienne Guillaumet. ‘So, tell me about Lulu. On the evening of Monday, January eleventh, you left your mother’s Irish Terrier in the car outside Chez Benedicte at about six thirty and went down into the Lido to find out what was delaying Denise Rouget.’
Did he know everything? ‘Maman worshipped that dog. When one is dying, Inspector, a companion such as Lulu means all the more. Lulu gave my mother life. To have stolen her … to have killed and eaten her was to have …’
‘You knew she’d been eaten?’
Ah, merde! ‘We assumed she had. Don’t those people eat dogs?’
Deliberately Herr Kohler gave her a moment to calm herself.
‘Correct me, Mademoiselle de Brisac, but wasn’t Colonel Delaroche shy; still looking for Lulu? If so, how is it that you knew Lulu had ended up in the soup pot? It’s probably a culinary delicacy, just as was horse meat here in France before this lousy Occupation.’
‘ “Lousy,” is it?’
‘Just tell me.’
‘I didn’t know. I … I only assumed.’ Ah Sainte-Mere, Sainte-Mere, why had Monsieur le Juge not insisted Denise accompany her?
‘You knew, mademoiselle. You have just stated it as if you did, which can only mean …’
Must he pause like this and make her catch a breath in fear of what was to come? ‘All right, damn you! Abelard also knew or suspected it but didn’t want to tell Mother such a thing.’
‘A good friend of the family, is he?’
‘The best! Like a father. Always there for Mother when needed, always interested in how I’m getting along. Mine was killed in action. He … Colonel Abelard-Armand Delaroche tried his best to take that place for Mother and me. I was only eight years old when we got the news about Papa, nine when Abelard was first able to come home to see how we were.’
‘But he didn’t think to confront Madame Elene Artur with the theft?’
‘WHY SHOULD HE HAVE? HE …’
‘Had other plans for her?’
‘I … I don’t know what you wish to imply, Inspector. I really don’t. Abelard would not have harmed that girl. He was only asked to have her followed.’
‘But I thought he was looking for Lulu? Surely he wasn’t told to follow Elene?’
‘You know very well what I said. Mother and …’
‘And whom?’
It would do no good to lie since he must already know, but it would be best, as with such men, to let him think her spirit had been broken. ‘Mother and Vivienne hired him.’
Hired not asked.
‘Must you sigh like that?’
‘Vivienne knew all about the judge and Elene and didn’t like it one bit, did she?’
‘Should she have? That bitch wasn’t the first but the latest of many. La syphilis, la blennorragie-the clap to you, la chaude-pisse that burns, n’est-ce pas? To have had to live in terror of his contracting such … such filthy diseases and then giving them to her as he did time and again? Is that not reason enough?’
‘And he has a taste for the exotic, hasn’t he?’
‘If you wish to call it that, I don’t! The wife of a prisoner of war? The mother of a child she should have been home looking after yet who constantly flaunted herself naked on stage and sold herself to the highest bidder while her husband languished behind barbed wire? How could she have done such a thing?’
‘Here, have another of these. That one will only spoil your nail polish.’
She should flick the butt into Herr Kohler’s face, but mustn’t. ‘Vivienne is a patriot. She does what she can. No one could do more.’
‘And your mother?’
‘Can’t do much, poor thing.’
‘But offer to help pay for things and is her confidante, as is Colonel Delaroche?’