The Comedians

'Other end,' Joseph told me, standing quite still, not going any nearer. Doctor Philipot must have walked up to the narrow cave of shadow made by the diving-plank, and now he lay in a crouched position below it with his knees drawn towards his chin, a middle-aged foetus ready dressed for burial in his neat grey suit. He had cut his wrists first and then his throat to make sure. Above the head was the dark circle of the pipe. We had only to turn on the water to wash the blood away; he had been as considerate as possible. He could not have been dead for more than a few minutes. My first thoughts were selfish ones: you cannot be blamed if a man kills himself in your swimming-pool. There was easy access to it direct from the road without passing the house. Beggars used to come here to try to sell trumpery wooden carvings to the guests swimming in the pool.

I asked Joseph, 'Is Doctor Magiot still in town?' He nodded.

'Go to Madame Pineda in the car outside and ask her to drive you to his house on the way to the embassy. Don't tell her the reason. Bring him back - if he'll come.' He was the only doctor in town, I thought, with the courage to attend even a stone-dead enemy of the Baron. But before Joseph could start up the path there was a clatter of footsteps and I heard the unmistakable voice of Mrs Smith. 'The New York customs could learn a thing or two from the men here. They were very polite to us both. You never find such courtesy among white people as you do with coloured.'

'Look out, my dear, there's a hole in the path.'

'I can see well enough. There's nothing like raw carrots for the sight, Mrs...'

'Pineda.'

'Mrs

Pineda.'

Martha brought up the rear carrying an electric torch. Mr Smith said, 'We found this good lady in the car outside. There seemed no one around.'

'I'm sorry. I'd quite forgotten you were going to stay here.'

'I thought Mr Jones was coming here too, but we left him with a police officer. I hope he's not in trouble.'

'Joseph, get the John Barrymore suite ready. See that there are plenty of lamps for Mr and Mrs Smith. I must apologize for the lights. They will come on any moment now.'

'We like it,' Mr Smith said, 'it feels like an adventure.'

If a spirit hovers, as some believe, for an hour or two over the cadaver it has abandoned, what banalities it is doomed to hear, while it waits in a despairing hope that some serious thought will be uttered, some expression which will lend dignity to the life it has left. I said to Mrs Smith, 'Tonight would you mind having only eggs? Tomorrow I'll have everything organized to suit you. Unfortunately the cook went off yesterday.'

'Don't bother about the eggs,' Mr Smith said. 'To tell you the truth we are a little dogmatic about eggs. But we've got our own Yeastrel.'

'And I have my Barmene,' Mrs Smith said.

'Just a little hot water,' Mr Smith said. 'Mrs Smith and I are very mobile. You don't have to worry about us. You've got a fine bathing-pool here.' To show them the extent of the pool Martha began to move the ray of her lamp towards the diving-board and the deep end. I took it quickly from her and turned it up towards the fretted tower and a balcony which leant over the palms. A light already glowed up there where Joseph was preparing the room. 'There's your suite,' I said. 'The John Barrymore suite. You can see all over Port-au-Prince from there, the harbour, the palace, the cathedral.'

'Did John Barrymore really stay here?, Mr Smith asked. 'In that room?'

'It was before my time, but I can show you his liquor bills.'

'A great talent ruined,' he remarked sadly.

I couldn't forget that presently the light rationing would be over and the lamps would go on all over Port-au-Prince. Sometimes the light was out for close on three hours, sometimes for less than one - there was no certainty. I had told Joseph that during my absence 'business' was to be as usual, for who could tell whether a couple of journalists might not stop for a few days to write a report on what they would undoubtedly call 'The Nightmare Republic'? Perhaps for Joseph 'business as usual' meant lights as usual in the palm trees, lights around the pool. I didn't want the Presidential Candidate to see a corpse coiled up under the diving-board - not on his first night. It was not my idea of hospitality. And hadn't he said something about a letter of introduction he carried to the Secretary for Social Welfare?

Joseph appeared at the head of the path. I told him to show the Smiths to their room and afterwards to drive down town with Mrs Pineda.

'Our luggage is on the verandah,' Mrs Smith said.

'You'll find it in your room by now. It won't stay dark much longer, I promise. You must excuse us. We are a very poor country.'

'When I think of all that waste on Broadway,' Mrs Smith said, and to my relief they began to mount the path, Joseph lighting the way. I stayed at the shallow end of the pool, but now that my eyes were accustomed to the dark I thought I could detect the body like a hump of earth. Martha said, 'Is something wrong?' and flashed her light up towards my face.

'I haven't had time to see yet. Lend me that torch a moment.'

'What was keeping you down here?'

I let the torch play on the palm trees well away from the pool as though I were inspecting the light installations. 'Talking to Joseph. Let's go up now, shall we?'

'And run into the Smiths? I'd rather stay here. It's funny to think I've never been here before. In your home.'

'No, we've always been very prudent.'

'You haven't asked after Angel.'

'I'm

sorry.'

Angel was her son, the unbearable child who helped to keep us apart. He was too fat for his age, he had his father's eyes like brown buttons, he sucked bonbons, he noticed things, and he made claims - claims all the time on his mother's exclusive attention. He seemed to draw the tenderness out of our relationship as he drew the liquid centre from a sweet, with a long sucking breath. He was the subject of half our conversations. 'I must go now. I promised Angel to read to him.' 'I can't see you tonight. Angel wants to go to the cinema.' 'My darling, I'm, so tired this evening - Angel had six friends to tea.'

'How

is Angel?'

'He was ill while you were away. With the grippe.'

'But he's quite better now?'

'Oh yes, he's better.'

'Let's

go.'

'Luis doesn't expect me as early as this. Nor Angel. I'm here. We may as well be hanged for a sheep.'

I looked at the dial of my watch. It was nearly eight-thirty. I said, 'The Smiths …'

'They are busy with their luggage. What's worrying you, darling?'

I said feebly, 'I've lost a paper-weight.'

'A very precious paper-weight?'

'No - but if a paper-weight's gone, what else has gone?'

Suddenly all around us the lights flashed on. I took her arm and wrenched her round and moved her up the path. Mr Smith came out on to his balcony and called to us, 'Do you think Mrs Smith could have another blanket on the bed, just in case it turns chilly?'

'I'll have one sent up, but it won't turn chilly.'

'It certainly is a fine view from up here.'

'I'll turn out the lights in the garden and then you'll see better.'

The controlling switch was in my office and we had almost reached it when Mr Smith's voice came again. 'Mr Brown, there's someone asleep in your pool.'

'I expect it's a beggar.'

Mrs Smith must have joined him, for it was her voice I heard now.

'Where, dear?'

'Down

there.'

'The poor man. I've a good mind to take him down some money.'

I was tempted to call up, 'Take him your letter of introduction. It's the Secretary for Social Welfare.'

'I wouldn't do that, dear. You'll only wake the poor fellow up.

'It's a funny place to choose.'

'I expect it's for the sake of the coolness.'