Son of Holmes

“And you,” I said, “how will you avoid conscription?” He sat back. “I am willing to die, I suppose, for freedom, and I am more than willing to devote my talents to serve the Allied cause. But I could never, ever serve on the front as one of the thousands who are important because they are bodies. My ego would never permit it. And honestly, Jules, would yours?”

I looked down at my hands. “I’d rather not serve at the front, if that’s what you mean, but in my case it’s more a question of age than conceit.”

He shrugged. “Call it what you will. Are you getting ready to go?”

I’d gotten up, alerted by noises upstairs. He put his fingers to his lips as he crossed over to me, and together we listened at the door to what sounded like Magiot himself talking to Vernet.

“You expect me to believe that he left here this afternoon and left no hint of where he was going?”

“I expect nothing, monsieur,” Vernet replied. “I merely tell you what happened. I dismissed him. He left. C’est ça. C’est tout.”

Magiot asked a couple of questions about Fritz and then, angry but satisfied with the responses, left. So it had worked.

Lupa walked back to his chair and sat. “Satisfactory. Jules, you’re going home this evening? Good. Would you check something for me?”

“Of course.”

“The table in your sitting room, in front of the fireplace, I’d like you to look at it carefully and describe it to me in detail when you return tomorrow.”

I left him exactly as I’d found him, sitting over a book at his desk. I found my way out easily through the tu

14

Tuesday, May 25, 1915. The day broke cool and clear. I threw the comforter off and got to my feet. Downstairs, the kitchen was spotless as always but, without Fritz, seemed lifeless. I made my own coffee, which was not good, and ate one of yesterday’s croissants, which was worse. I hadn’t seen Tania since Sunday after the shooting, and so I decided to pay her a call.

The walk to her house was always pleasant for me, and no less so this morning. The greens were vibrant, and I’d gotten started early enough to hear the birds chirping. It was not quite cold, though I walked with my hands in my pockets.

Danielle answered my knock and stood wringing her hands in the doorway.

“Is madame in?” I inquired.

She shook her head back and forth and looked at me helplessly.

“What’s the matter, Danielle?”

I brushed past her and on into the foyer. “Tania!” There was no answer.

“Elle est partie.” Danielle had come up behind me.

“Where’s she gone to? When did she leave?”

The domestic only shook her head, tears coming to her eyes.

“The other woman? What about her?”

“She’s also gone.”

“When did they leave? Have you no idea?”

“They were gone when I got up this morning. They were here last night. Oh, Monsieur Giraud, I’m so worried. I don’t know what could have happened. Everything was normal last night, and now they are gone. There is no note. I heard nothing.”

She was becoming hysterical, so I walked her to a chair and we sat down. I took her hand.

“Now look, Danielle. Try to remember. Did anyone come last night? Did madame act strange in any way? How was the other woman?”

“Last night she was walking around, of course with the bandage still on her head. But we talked, and she seemed well. The madame had di

“What time did you get up this morning?”

“At dawn, monsieur, comme d’habitude.”

“Were there any signs of trouble? Struggle of any kind?”

“No.”

“All right. Wait here. I’ll look around.”

So saying, I left her in the sitting room and went to Tania’s room. The bed had been slept in. Her cosmetics were neatly arranged. Her brush had some hair in it-since Danielle cleaned daily, it was likely that Tania had taken the time to comb out her hair. Everything was in order.

On Tania’s bureau there was a framed photograph of herself, her husband, and the four boys formally posed around their sitting room mantel. The focus was clear, all the likenesses visible. From the age of the boys, the picture had been taken within the past two years. I remembered Lupa’s directions and my hand reached out to take the thing. But then I stopped. Could I do this to my lover? Were there no limits to this intelligence gathering? How would Tania react to the missing picture? Turning abruptly, I left the room empty-handed.

In the other rooms, I looked at windows for signs of forcible entry, for scuff marks in the hall which might show where a struggle had taken place, but I found nothing. A

“There, there,” I said, which was patently no help. She cried for another small time before I could quiet her by suggesting that she go to my house, until further notice, and try to keep the place in order. Even as I said it, I cursed to myself. I’d forgotten to look over the table near the hearth. Still, it was no great matter. I was worried about Tania’s disappearance. If nothing else, it was badly timed. What would Lupa say when he heard that A

As we were about to lock up the house, I excused myself for a moment, trudging wearily back up the stairs to Tania’s room. Carefully I removed the family portrait from the frame, rolled it, and placed it in my coat pocket. If it would serve to clear her of suspicion, she would have to do without it for a time. On the way back down the stairs, I tried to rationalize my guilt by telling myself that, had she been there, I would have asked to borrow the picture, and she would have acceded. It was small consolation.

We carefully locked up the house and walked together as far as the road. I was in a hurry to get to Valence, though I couldn’t have said why-perhaps I was as much concerned with getting out of Danielle’s presence. Nothing upset me more than the whimpering voice of an hysterical teenager. Be that as it may, I left her with my keys and turned to Valence. I found myself breathing hard and forced myself to a slow walk. It would be good if, as Lupa said, this thing was coming to a head. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stand the pace much longer.

I stopped at the first cafe en ville and ordered a double espresso and a newspaper. By the time I’d finished both, it was close to nine o’clock and traffic had picked up on the road. I felt much more relaxed and decided for the moment to put off seeing Lupa. Shut up as he was in his hideaway at La Couro

I headed toward the telegraph office to check on early telegrams. Perhaps they hadn’t bothered to deliver Georges’s telegram of the night before, or maybe it had only arrived this morning. No such luck. Nothing had arrived for me at all.

Again out on the street, I turned toward the police station, thinking it would seem logical to Magiot if I showed an interest in whether they’d taken Lupa or not. The way my morning had been going, Magiot might even cheer me up.

I was ushered directly into his office. He rose to greet me, and we shook hands.