been through so much, have constantly been in each other’s company and yet have survived while displeasing virtually everyone else. Those who stood to gain and those who hoped to, even those remotely connected who simply wished the status quo to continue.’
The thighs were bare, the foetus absent, the placenta wrapped around the remains of the umbilical cord.
As gently as he could, he covered her. ‘Two months, three, mademoiselle? Had you told anyone, the father perhaps? Was he a guard, one of the doctors. . . the electrician who comes from town? The dentist, or one of the camp’s officers?
‘And why, please, was that gate deliberately opened when it should have remained closed and locked?’
The candle stub flickered in a down-draught that drew the little flame to one side, threatening darkness. Several photos lay about—snapshots from home she’d been carrying, and also a beautifully carved cavalier, a knight from a chess set, the wood light-red to reddish-brown.
‘And hard, and moderately heavy, and very straight grained.’ It had fortunately tumbled to the far left front corner of the elevator’s roof, where it had remained clear of everything else.
‘Mary-Lynn Allan was twenty-seven years old, Louis. Two brothers in the service, the girl the youngest. Father Ed. . . ’
‘Killed during that other war?’
‘ Ah, mon Dieu, how the hell did you. . . ’
‘The snapshots. An officer.’
‘Killed during the Meuse-Argonne advance of. . . ’
‘Hermann, I’m aware of the date. Twenty-six September, 1918. Fog got them. Buried tank tracks and other shot-up armour threw their compass bearings off, they failing to realize this until it was too late.’
The poor bastards had been green and almost straight off the boat from home, but Louis, like most of the French, would still be thinking les Américains sont toujours merveilleux . ‘They’d not had any food for at least four days and little if any sleep, mon vieux . You know how it was. End of story. First Army, Thirty-Fifth Division under Major-General Traub.’
‘The east bank of the Aire River well to the northwest of here and of Verdun, Hermann.’
‘She couldn’t have known him, would only have been about two years old but wondering all her life.’
The photos had been of the deceased father, the cavalier having belonged to him. ‘That why the séance with Madame Chevreul?’ asked St-Cyr.
‘For which she handed over a cheque for the princely sum of fifty dollars American.’
This investigation was getting deeper and deeper. ‘Which bank?’
‘The Morgan.’
‘With headquarters in New York but a branch office in Paris, Hermann, the cheque negotiable after this war since Madame Chevreul could not possibly get there to cash it even though that bank is still open. Ah, merde . . . ’
The candle had snuffed itself. ‘Two of the guards are bringing an extension cord,’ said Kohler. ‘They’ll lower a light to you.’
‘Why don’t they open the ground-floor gates?’
‘ Ach, I didn’t think to tell them. The crowd, I guess.’
‘Then be so good as to clear all corridors and find our trapper. Pick up where I left off by asking if any of that datura has gone missing before.’
‘Missing. . . ?’ Did Louis want to warn everyone of it? ‘Was she drugged?’
Good for Hermann. ‘At this point, it’s simply an alternative to the effects of alcohol. She’d have lost focus, been very unsteady on her feet. . . ’
‘Hallucinogenic?’
They’d all be listening now, felt St-Cyr. ‘It’s just a thought.’
‘But don’t jump to conclusions, eh? And Madame Chevreul of the Hôtel Grand?’
‘Leave her for now. Let others tell her of our interest. Chevreul was the nineteenth-century Frenchman who popularized the use of a pendulum to induce hypnosis. She may have borrowed the name, which would imply study of the process, or simply have married someone related or totally unrelated.’
The listeners would think about that
The thighs were bare, the foetus absent, the placenta wrapped around the remains of the umbilical cord.
As gently as he could, he covered her. ‘Two months, three, mademoiselle? Had you told anyone, the father perhaps? Was he a guard, one of the doctors. . . the electrician who comes from town? The dentist, or one of the camp’s officers?
‘And why, please, was that gate deliberately opened when it should have remained closed and locked?’
The candle stub flickered in a down-draught that drew the little flame to one side, threatening darkness. Several photos lay about—snapshots from home she’d been carrying, and also a beautifully carved cavalier, a knight from a chess set, the wood light-red to reddish-brown.
‘And hard, and moderately heavy, and very straight grained.’ It had fortunately tumbled to the far left front corner of the elevator’s roof, where it had remained clear of everything else.
‘Mary-Lynn Allan was twenty-seven years old, Louis. Two brothers in the service, the girl the youngest. Father Ed. . . ’
‘Killed during that other war?’
‘ Ah, mon Dieu, how the hell did you. . . ’
‘The snapshots. An officer.’
‘Killed during the Meuse-Argonne advance of. . . ’
‘Hermann, I’m aware of the date. Twenty-six September, 1918. Fog got them. Buried tank tracks and other shot-up armour threw their compass bearings off, they failing to realize this until it was too late.’
The poor bastards had been green and almost straight off the boat from home, but Louis, like most of the French, would still be thinking les Américains sont toujours merveilleux . ‘They’d not had any food for at least four days and little if any sleep, mon vieux . You know how it was. End of story. First Army, Thirty-Fifth Division under Major-General Traub.’
‘The east bank of the Aire River well to the northwest of here and of Verdun, Hermann.’
‘She couldn’t have known him, would only have been about two years old but wondering all her life.’
The photos had been of the deceased father, the cavalier having belonged to him. ‘That why the séance with Madame Chevreul?’ asked St-Cyr.
‘For which she handed over a cheque for the princely sum of fifty dollars American.’
This investigation was getting deeper and deeper. ‘Which bank?’
‘The Morgan.’
‘With headquarters in New York but a branch office in Paris, Hermann, the cheque negotiable after this war since Madame Chevreul could not possibly get there to cash it even though that bank is still open. Ah, merde . . . ’
The candle had snuffed itself. ‘Two of the guards are bringing an extension cord,’ said Kohler. ‘They’ll lower a light to you.’
‘Why don’t they open the ground-floor gates?’
‘ Ach, I didn’t think to tell them. The crowd, I guess.’
‘Then be so good as to clear all corridors and find our trapper. Pick up where I left off by asking if any of that datura has gone missing before.’
‘Missing. . . ?’ Did Louis want to warn everyone of it? ‘Was she drugged?’
Good for Hermann. ‘At this point, it’s simply an alternative to the effects of alcohol. She’d have lost focus, been very unsteady on her feet. . . ’
‘Hallucinogenic?’
They’d all be listening now, felt St-Cyr. ‘It’s just a thought.’
‘But don’t jump to conclusions, eh? And Madame Chevreul of the Hôtel Grand?’
‘Leave her for now. Let others tell her of our interest. Chevreul was the nineteenth-century Frenchman who popularized the use of a pendulum to induce hypnosis. She may have borrowed the name, which would imply study of the process, or simply have married someone related or totally unrelated.’
The listeners would think about that
Similar Books
