Paris Requiem (36 page)

‘You really don’t need to teach me how to suck eggs, Monsieur Norton.’

‘And your police pathologist will be assisting the young Dr Steinlen?’

Durand grimaced. ‘In due course. Dr Comte tells us
Steinlen
is very able. A ferret for detail.’

‘Dr Comte is not to be trusted.’ Arnhem leapt up, suddenly as fierce in his stance as an unleashed tiger. ‘I have tried to explain my daughter’s fears to you, Chief Inspector. She may have been ill, but she could also be alert. More alert and sensitive to her surroundings than the rest of us. She had a kind of sixth sense. Rachel always talked of it. It was I … I who was resistant to Judith’s observations.’ Arnhem tore at his hair.

The air in the small room had grown intolerable. James looked with longing at the small, high window. Without thinking, he reached for the stool and was about to stand on it when Durand barked, ‘I want to fingerprint that. Don’t touch.’

‘Of course.’ James stepped back. ‘Sorry. It occurs to me that when we last came to see Judith Arnhem, this wasn’t the cubicle she was in. The last one didn’t have a window. Nor was there a beam. A beam with a convenient hook to hang from. Judith might have been induced, or rather, things might have been made easy for her …’ His thoughts trailed off. ‘Even if someone didn’t actually hang her while she was drugged.’

There was gratitude in Arnhem’s haggard features. ‘That’s it precisely, Monsieur Norton. That’s what I have been attempting to say. Dr Comte trampled over all my questions.’

‘Until proved otherwise, Dr Comte is a respected servant of our national hygiene programme, Arnhem.’

The man looked as if he was about to jump at Durand’s throat.

‘It’s not your fault, Monsieur Arnhem,’ Raf said softly. ‘None of us altogether took Judith at her word. Except Jim, here. And Olympe, as you said.’ He put his arm round the older man’s shoulders. ‘I think a brandy is in order, Jim.’

‘Yes. Yes. All of you go. My men will be here soon and I need the room cleared.’ Durand waved them off. James hung back behind the others.

‘Listen, Chief Inspector, if you’re going to have a second, a private interview with Dr Comte, I’d like to be there.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. The thing is that not only did I see Comte at the brothel the other night, but we think that Olympe may have gone to see him. Her daybook …’

‘What daybook?’ Durand cut him off with a vocal lunge.

‘Oh, just an appointments book that … that my brother came across.’ James swallowed hard.

‘In her apartment?’

James nodded as Durand’s eyes bulged threateningly.

‘I want that in my office at the latest tomorrow morning or I’ll have you arrested for hindering a police investigation.’

‘Of course, Chief Inspector. Of course. But as for Comte …’

‘I think, Monsieur Norton, that you have more reason to trust me than the other way around.’

‘You’ll ask him about his meeting with Olympe as well as everything else? You’ll ask him delicately.’

Durand thrust his head back with Napoleonic aplomb. ‘As I’ve said before, you hardly need to teach me my business, Monsieur Norton. Please remember that I harbour suspicions about everyone. Everyone, regardless of rank. And continue to, despite your letter about Madame de Landois.’

‘Indeed, Chief Inspector.’

As if to provide further evidence of Durand’s words, Raf stuck his head back round the door and grumbled, ‘Listen,
Durand. I don’t know how many men you’ve got to throw around. But you could just call the one standing right out there off my tail. He followed me here and he’s about to follow me out. And it’s a waste of time I tell you. Since I know he’s there.’

Durand’s demeanour was icy. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He waved them off with a final admonishment to James. ‘The daybook. You won’t forget.’

Outside angry clouds had gathered, dusky charcoal against the indigo of the sky. By the time they reached the gates, the first fat drops had begun to fall.

Raf hailed a carriage. He was holding Arnhem’s arm, as if to keep him upright. ‘You come with us, Monsieur Arnhem. I’m sure the children will be all right with your friends for a little while longer.’

He gave James a meaningful look and James reiterated the invitation.

‘No, I must go to them.’ Arnhem was adamant. ‘I have been away too long already.’ In the lamplight, his eyes glistened with tears. ‘I can take no more chances. No more chances.’

The carriage clattered over cobbles. The storm burst upon them, as noisy on bonnet and pavement as the splatter of gunfire. Horses whinnied in protest. Walkers ran and huddled beneath streaming awnings. Pavements and road took on a glistening sheen.

Arnhem was muttering, talking to himself like some ragged Lear on a blasted heath, his lips barely moving, his open eyes streaming tears. ‘Yes, that’s best. That’s best. We will all follow Judith. The
dybbuk
. Her mother in her. One by one. Taking them away. To her.’

Raf and James looked at each other.

‘We can’t leave him,’ James whispered. ‘Why don’t we take them all, the children too, to Marguerite’s. And she may have had some news from that intern. It’s become more urgent now.’

Raf glanced at his watch. ‘I promised Touquet …’

‘Get a message to him.’

‘We don’t even know if Marguerite’s in.’

‘We’ll wait for her. Someone’s bound to be there.’

At their joint insistence, the children were picked up, half asleep, from a bemused neighbour and bundled into the waiting cab. They sat astride their father’s knees, one on each, and cast curious looks at the brothers.

‘Where are we going?’ the little girl asked.

Arnhem didn’t answer, but his arms clutched his children as if they might be lifted from him at any moment.

‘We’re going very fast,’ the boy said with something like wonder.

‘I don’t believe I know your names.’ Raf smiled at the two.

‘I’m Adam,’ the boy said self-importantly. ‘And my sister is Juliette.’

‘Nice names.’

Juliette gave James a bewitching smile. ‘What’s yours?’

James introduced them both.

‘I never thanked you for the chocolates,’ Juliette said, her eyes serious. ‘They were delicious.’

‘Delicious,’ Adam echoed.

‘Hush,’ Arnhem grunted, as if the sound of his children’s innocent happiness only augmented the weight of his burden. ‘It’s no time to talk of chocolates.’ He added something in a language they didn’t understand and the children sat up straighter, their faces suddenly taut with fatigue and something else that James couldn’t understand. He wondered for a moment what exactly Arnhem had finally told them about Olympe’s death and whether his words now were a grim reminder of that incontrovertible fact, soon to be followed by one equally bleak.

They were crossing the river and the children tried to peer through the rain-spattered window, all the while maintaining
their stiff posture. Shadowy lights played over the great
buttresses
of the Notre Dame like will-o’-the-wisps. A motor car overtook them with a loud hoot of its horn. The children jumped. The horses whinnied loudly and reared. They could hear the driver cursing. For a moment all movement ceased.

Juliette’s mouth fell open. ‘Is it an accident, Messieurs?’ she asked in a tremulous voice, the fear in her face unequal to the occasion.

‘No, no,’ James soothed. ‘Nothing to worry about. We’ll be there very soon.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘To see a friend of your sister’s. A friend of Olympe’s. She’s called Madame de Landois.’

Tears filled the girl’s eyes. She turned her face away from them.

‘You’ll like her, I think, Juliette. And I’m sure she’ll like you and Adam.’

‘Liking is no matter,’ Arnhem suddenly proclaimed. ‘Why are we going there? I have forgotten.’

‘Madame de Landois may have some information for us,’ Raf said lightly. As the carriage started to move again, he kept up an innocuous patter with the children, pointing out sights, an umbrella tossed by a gust of wind, a café where great
philosophers
had sat debating the future of France. ‘Do you know the name of your new prime minister?’ he asked.

‘Waldeck-Rousseau,’ Adam answered with no hesitation. ‘Papa says he is a fine orator and a good Republican.’

‘He’s right.’

‘Words can no longer help us.’ Arnhem muttered.

‘We’re here.’ James made an effort to be cheerful. He leapt out of the carriage, lifted the children one by one. ‘You’ll see, it’s a lovely house.’

The children stood back in awe as Raf exchanged some words with the uniformed footmen.

‘Marguerite’s entertaining,’ he said to James in a low voice. ‘I’ve had a message sent up. We’ll wait for her in the orangerie. The children will be more comfortable there.’ He held back a little as Arnhem and the children were shown through. ‘One of her guests is Dr Vaillant,’ he whispered to James. ‘One can never accuse Marguerite of wasting her time. But I think it’s best for the moment that we stay out of the way.’

It was in part a question and James responded, ‘Why don’t you go up?’

Raf shrugged. ‘Let’s wait and see what she advises.’

Juliette and Adam were standing at the threshold of the long room. They went in only with a little prodding. Their eyes were vast.

‘It’s so … so pretty. So bright. So many lights,’ the little girl sighed. She touched her fingertips to the side of the grand piano and for a moment, James held his breath. It was as if he had suddenly seen the young Rachel described to him by Marguerite walking into this room for the first time.

‘And so many flowers. Look, Papa.’

Arnhem didn’t answer. His eyes were blind to the room. He perched on the edge of a hard-backed chair and stared into the middle distance.

This younger Rachel, James remarked, was neither
troubled
, nor beset by shyness. Nor was her brother. He was leafing through a book that had been left on the side table. ‘Insects,’ he intoned, as Raf approached him. ‘A dung beetle. A huge one. Its head is just like a scoop. You can see each of its legs. And the antennae.’ The lad was excited.

‘I used to know quite a few of those personally,’ Raf laughed.

Adam gave him a sceptical look. ‘Is it true that they can eat more than their own weight in twenty-four hours?’

‘That’s what they say. And at the start of summer they bury themselves and an apple-sized ball of dung that they’ve made and feed on that.’

‘Raf here used to have a beetle collection,’ James offered. ‘I can’t say it altogether pleased our sister.’ He stopped himself as the thought of Ellie plunged into his mind. Ellie feeding on her own accumulated thoughts, like some shiny
Egyptian
scarab.

The arrival of two of Marguerite’s maids bearing trays replete with cold meats, fruit and patisserie caught the
children’s
attention.

‘I hope you’re hungry.’

Juliette nodded while her brother simply stared as the food was spread out on the side table.

Raf poured brandy for the men. He urged Arnhem to drink and then to eat.

‘You must eat, Papa,’ Juliette chided. ‘We need you to be strong.’

There was a stunned expression on Arnhem’s face. It didn’t disappear with the jolt of alcohol, but the sallowness of his skin took on a tinge of colour.

‘May I have two, Papa?’ Adam asked still staring at the
pastry
. ‘I can’t make up my mind.’

‘Three,’ Raf replied for him. ‘Make a feast of it. But don’t get yourself sick. There’ll be more in the morning.’

‘Are we staying here tonight?’

‘You certainly may, if you wish. If your father agrees. Personally I think it would be a good idea. What do you say, Arnhem? Then the little ones can get some sleep as soon as they’ve had a bite.’

‘I’ll only stay if Papa is staying.’ Juliette was shyly determined. ‘I don’t like to leave him when he’s so sad.’ She turned to whisper to James as if she were his own age. ‘He’s been very sad, you know. We’ve all been.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘Did you know my sister Rachel?’

‘I knew her well,’ Raf answered for him. ‘I miss her very much.’

Juliette’s eyes filled with tears.

Raf ruffled her hair. ‘I’ll convince your father that you’re all to stay.’

‘Well, this is a surprise.’

None of them had seen Marguerite come in and now they all stood, even Arnhem. She was at her grandest in a dress of deep, shimmering blue, an ornate necklace at her throat, the encrusted lapis less luminous than her bared shoulders. Her hair was swept up in smooth coils which accentuated the fine structure of her face. She gave them all a dazzling smile, though she refused James’s eyes. She focused in particular on the children. ‘I am so pleased to meet you both properly at last. Juliette, I believe. And you’re Adam. Good evening, Monsieur Arnhem.’ She paused as she took in his demeanour. ‘Has something happened?’

Raf took her arm and led her to the far end of the room while James occupied the children. Juliette’s attention, however, kept returning to Marguerite in an open fascination which held not a little trace of fear.

When they returned, Marguerite was distinctly in charge. ‘Now, Monsieur Arnhem. I won’t take no for an answer. I have kept you waiting too long. And now the children are tired and undoubtedly more than ready for bed. Pierre will have two rooms ready for you in no time and once they’ve been tucked in, we’ll have our little talk. Yes. That’s all arranged then. Tell me, Juliette. Do you prefer a white nightie or pink.’

‘I don’t mind,’ the little girl stammered.

‘Your sister preferred white. Oh yes, she used to stay here too from time to time. When she didn’t feel like making the drive home. It’s quite nice, really. You’ll see. And if you like, you can take some cherries up with you. And a drink, of course. You, too, Adam.’

‘Adam’s been enjoying your insect book.’

‘Really. My father drew those. He’d be pleased that you liked them. We can look at them again in the morning.’

A half-hour later, the children had been whisked off to bed and the four adults sat in the library and nursed a fresh round of drinks. Marguerite’s face had taken on an edge of grimness. As she got up to pace, James had a vision of a female warrior, a Joan of Arc girding her strength for battle. The image merged into that of the trousered Marcel Bonnefoi and he felt himself grow hot with embarrassment.