Dead Ringer

“Hello,” Be

“Thank you for your kind words, and for coming.” Micheline’s French accent was just light enough to register as cultured. Be

“I hope so,” Be

“No, these are our friends. Let me take you to Georges. He’s in his study. He’s not feeling well, and he’s not exactly mobile of late.” Micheline turned on her stilettos and sashayed down the hallway to the right, rolling her slim hips like a runway model.

“Thank you.” Be

“Here is his study,” Micheline said when they reached the paneled door at the end of the hall, and she opened it. “I’ll leave you two alone and attend our guests. I know you have a lot to discuss.”

“Thanks,” Be

“You must be Be

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Be

“Thank you very much,” Georges said, and when he released her hand, the chair strayed to the left. “Please excuse this wheelchair business. I’m not very good with it, I fear I never became accustomed. Please, sit.” He motioned her onto the leather ottoman, and she sat. “I broke my leg several weeks ago, like a fool.”

“That must have hurt,” Be

“Riding. My horse has a bit of spirit, he forgets he is gelded. Comes the spring, he gets crazy, he believes he is a stallion. Many men do, you know.” Georges winked, and Be

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Touché.” He laughed, just like Robert. “My warmblood, Gustave, he is a very pampered, very civilized dressage horse. He thinks he is beautiful-pardon, he knows he is beautiful-and he also knows he belongs only in the ring, on the perfect footing for his perfect hooves.”

Be

“Gustave, he knows he doesn’t belong on the trail, nor do I. However, I spur him on, I take him out by myself, and along comes a little tiny creature, smaller than a squirrel, brown with a little tiny stripe, what do you call it”-Georges thought a minute-“a chipmunk! Is that it, chipmunk?”

Be

“This chipmunk, it is so little tiny it is only not even the size of Gustave’s one hoof!” Georges made a number one with his index finger. “Gustave, he is seventeen hands tall, very tall, and he leaps forward in great and terrible fear of his life, going as high as if he is jumping a Grand Prix fence, and, mon Dieu, he slips in the mud and goes tumbling down the hill”-Georges made a spiraling motion with his hand-“then I go down, and the little tiny chipmunk, he runs off and tells his friends!”

“Oh, no!” Be

“Luckily, only one of us broke his leg.” Georges smacked his forehead with his palm, and Be

“So how long will you be in the chair?”

“Any day now, then they take off the cast, and I go back to work.” Georges took a minute to extract a handkerchief from a pocket of a soft cardigan sweater and dab his long, bony nose with it. “I am almost retired now, from my practice as a gynecologist, as you may know. But Gustave teaches me much, every time I ride him. You know what is said about horses?”

“No, what?”

“It is said, ‘The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man.’ Churchill says this, either he or Roosevelt, or De Gaulle, I think.” Georges laughed. “I don’t know who said it really, one of those. Not Stalin, I am sure of it.”

Be

“I like the horses, I love the horses, but Robert, he doesn’t like these so much. Our father, when we were very young, he taught us to ride, until our seat is perfect. But Robert, he doesn’t have the interest.” Georges fiddled with his handkerchief, momentarily lost in sadness. His mouth set, and his light blue eyes clouded like the sky. “I don’t understand why, why would someone kill Robert? He hurts no one.”

“It is hard to understand,” Be

“It doesn’t make sense to me, not at all,” Georges went on. “They take his wallet, they take his watch. These things, they add up to what, a few hundred dollars? Why do they kill him for these things? Robert, he would have given them. He could afford to replace them, easily.”

“The police think it has something to do with hatred for foreigners. That the killer targets them because they’re easy prey and because they have money, then kills them out of hate or resentment. But usually, criminals kill during robberies on impulse or to prevent identification. They don’t want to leave a witness.”