‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Lucien, go and fetch her case from outside,’ said Marc. ‘And Mathias, help me take the little one’s, bed into the other room.’
They shifted the divan and went up to the second floor to find another bed which Marc had kept from happier days, as well as a lamp and a rug which Lucien consented to lend.
‘It’s only because she looks so sad,’ said Lucien, rolling up the rug.
Once the bedroom was more or less ready, Marc put the key on the inside of the door, so that Alexandra Haufman could lock herself in if she so wished. He did this tactfully and without a word. The discreet elegance of the impoverished aristocrat, thought Lucien. We should get him a ring with a seal, so that he can seal his letters with wax. He would like that, for sure.
XVII
INSPECTEUR LEGUENNEC ARRIVED FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER VANDOOSLER S call the next morning. He had a short council of war with his former senior officer before asking to speak with the young woman. Marc left the main room and dragged his godfather out forcibly, so as to leave Alexandra in a tête-a-tête with the little inspecteur en chef.
Vandoosler strolled about in the garden with his godson.
‘If she hadn’t turned up, I think I might have let the whole thing drop. What do you think about that girl?’
‘Not so loud,’ said Marc. ‘Little Kyril is playing in the garden. Well, she’s not stupid and she’s as beautiful as an angel. You noticed that, I dare say.’
‘Naturally,’ Vandoosler replied, rather irritated. ‘That’s pretty obvious. But what else?’
‘Hard to tell in such a short time,’ said Marc.
‘You used to say five minutes was enough for you to make up your mind.’
‘Well, not quite. When people have a sad story, it makes it harder. But if you want my opinion, in her case something dramatic must have happened. You can’t see straight, it’s as if you’re going over a waterfall, you suddenly lose all your illusions. I know the feeling.’
‘Did you ask her about it?’
‘Not so loud, for God’s sake, I told you. No, I didn’t ask her about it. You don’t ask about that kind of thing. I’m guessing, inventing and comparing. It’s not that difficult.’
‘Do you think some man’s thrown her out?’
Oh please, keep your big mouth shut.’
The godfather pursed his lips and kicked a stone.
‘That was my stone,’ said Marc tartly. ‘I left it there last Thursday. You might ask before taking it over.’
Vandoosler kicked the pebble for a few minutes, then lost it in the long grass.
‘Very clever,’ said Marc. ‘D’you think they grow on trees?’
‘Go on,’ said Vandoosler.
‘OK, the waterfall. Add to that the aunt’s disappearance. It’s a lot to take. My impression is that the girl is straightforward. She’s gentle, truthful, fragile, lots of delicate qualities to be careful not to break, like her neck. But she’s touchy and susceptible. At the least thing, she sticks her lip out. Well, not exactly-let’s say she’s straightforward but has mixed feelings. Or perhaps straightforward thoughts in a mixed-up temperament. Oh hell, I don’t know. Let’s drop it. But where this business about her aunt is concerned, she won’t let matters drop, you can be sure of that. Is she telling us the whole truth, though? I don’t know. What is Leguennec going to do-or rather, what are you and he planning to do?’
‘We’re not going to keep it under wraps any longer. In any case, as you say, the girl is going to move heaven and earth to find Sophia. So we might as well go official. Open an investigation under some pretext. It’s all been too vague, it’s going to get away from us. We should try and make the first move. But it’s impossible to check the story about the star on the card, and the rendezvous in Lyon. The husband doesn’t remember the name of the hotel on the card. Or where the card was posted. He doesn’t remember anything, Relivaux. Or else he’s doing it on purpose, and the card never existed. Leguennec has run a check on the Lyon hotels. No-one of her name has registered.’
‘Do you think the same as Mathias? That someone has killed Sophia?’
‘Slow down, my boy. St Matthew is jumping to conclusions.’
‘Mathias jumps to the right conclusion when he has to. Hunter-gatherers are like that sometimes. But why does it have to be a murder? It might have been an accident?’
‘An accident? No, we’d have found a body long ago.’
‘So you think it really is possible? Murder?’
‘That’s what Leguennec thinks. Sophia Siméonidis is extremely rich. Her husband on the other hand is at the mercy of a change of government and a return to a subordinate job. But we haven’t found a body, Marc. No body, no murder.’
When Leguennec emerged, he and Vandoosler conferred again. He nodded and went off, a small determined figure.
‘What’s he going to do?’ asked Marc.
‘Open an official enquiry. Play cards with me. Try to reel in Relivaux-and it’s no fun being reeled in by Leguennec, believe me. He has infinite patience. I’ve been on board a trawler with him, I know what he’s like.’
Two days later, the news came as a bolt from the blue. Leguennec announced it that evening, though in measured tones. The fire services had been called out the night before to an intense fire in a deserted alleyway in Maisons-Alfort, in the southwest suburbs. The fire had already spread to some nearby houses, all empty and abandoned, by the time the firemen got there. It had not been put out until three in the morning. In the ashes were three burnt-out cars, and in one of them an unrecognisable body. Leguennec had been informed at seven o’clock, while he was shaving. He went to find Relivaux in his office at three that afternoon. Relivaux had positively identified a little piece of volcanic rock which Leguennec showed him. It was a fetish that Sophia had always had with her; it had been in her handbag or her pocket for the last twenty-eight years.
XVIII
ALEXANDRA, DISBELIEVING, SITTING CROSS-LEGGED ON HER BED, HEAD in hands, was insisting on details and facts. It was seven in the evening. Leguennec had authorised Vandoosler and the others to stay in the room. It would be all over the papers in the morning. Lucien was watching to see whether the little boy had marked his carpet with his felt pens. He was concerned about that.
‘Why did you go to Maisons-Alfort?’ Alexandra was asking. ‘What did you know?’
‘Nothing at that stage,’ Leguennec assured her. ‘But I’ve got four missing persons in my zone. Pierre Relivaux didn’t want to report his wife missing. He was sure she would come back. But because you had arrived, I had, let’s say, persuaded him to make the report all the same. Sophia Siméonidis was on my list, and in my mind. I went to Maisons-Alfort because it’s my job. I wasn’t alone, I can tell you that. There were other inspecteurs, looking for missing teenagers and vanished husbands. But I was the only one looking for a woman. Women go missing far less often than men-did you know that? When a married man or a teenage boy disappears, we don’t worry so much. But when it’s a woman, there are reasons to fear the worst, you understand? But the body, forgive me, was unidentifiable. Even the teeth were gone, burnt to ashes.’
Vandoosler interrupted him: ‘You can spare us the details, Leguennec.’
Leguennec, he of the jutting jaw, shook his bullet head. ‘I’m trying, Vandoosler,’ he said. ‘But Mademoiselle Haufman wants facts.’
‘Go on, inspecteur,’ said Alexandra quietly. ‘I need to know.’
The young woman’s face was swollen with weeping, her black hair was ruffled and on end, from the times she had repeatedly run her wet hands through it. Marc wished he could dry it for her, comb it tenderly back into shape. But there was nothing he could do.