Son of Holmes

“You’ve heard the news, haven’t you?” Paul piped in.

“What’s that?”

“Last night the police went to arrest Lupa for Marcel’s death, and he’d left town.”

Georges sipped at his Pernod. “So, it wasn’t one of us. I’m relieved.”

“You didn’t really think it was?” Madame Pulis asked.

He shrugged. “No one really knew too much about anyone else in our group. When I heard the rumors about the espionage angle, I must admit I became concerned. I didn’t suspect anyone, but then I couldn’t completely trust anyone either. Now it’s a relief.”

“It will make tomorrow night much more pleasant,” I said. “By the way, it’s going to be at La Couro

“Not at all,” Paul replied. “At least, I don’t. Anybody else?”

Georges spoke up. “Moi non plus. But why there?”

“Because the owner there, Monsieur Vernet, is a friend of mine, and I’ve loaned him Fritz until he has time to find another chef.” I didn’t see any harm in telling them a different story from the one I’d told Magiot. “In return for which I eat there gratis myself. Believe me, I’d never have let Fritz go if it would have meant eating my own cuisine, if you could call it that.”

Paul called for the waiter and ordered another round of drinks, and Madame Pulis said she really had to be getting on to the market.

“Shall I join you?” asked Georges.

“Thank you, no. I’m perfectly happy to go alone. Good day, gentlemen.”

“A charming creature,” said Georges after she’d gone.

“What’s she going to the market for? Doesn’t Henri own a store?” Paul was relaxing with his third demi.

Georges shrugged. “The company, I suppose.”

“I hope we didn’t embarrass her too much,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to enjoy that kind of humor.”

“Oh, she’s fine. Henri and I tease her like that all the time.

She just doesn’t know you two so well.” He paused. “I’m afraid I have a bit of sad news, however. This will be my last Wednesday beer party. I’ve been transferred to Algiers.”

Paul put down his beer. “Well, as you fellows would say, merde!”

“You echo my sentiments, but there’s nothing I can do about it other than quit, which I can’t afford. It’s going to be hard. I’ve come to like this place very much. Not to mention mes amis.” He lifted his glass to us.

“When are you going?”

“The ship sails from Marseilles on Sunday, so I thought I’d take the train on Thursday or Friday, probably Friday. I’ll have some packing.”

“It’s lucky the police have decided on Lupa,” I said. “Otherwise you might have a problem leaving here.”

“Yes,” he said, “now that you mention it, it is fortunate. I didn’t mention this matter to the company, of course. They’d probably object to one of their salesmen being suspected of murder.” He smiled feebly. “Well, at least it’s over.”

“Not really,” put in Paul. “They haven’t got him yet, and until they do, I’m not going to rest easy. You don’t know it, Georges, but he also killed a police inspector last week.”

“Have they proved that, too?”

“Yep. Strangled him right on the road.”

“Mon dieu!”

I decided to join in. “I feel I must apologize for inviting him. Possibly all this could have been avoided if…”

“Oh, nonsense, Jules. How could you have known? If Lupa were a spy of some sort-mind you, I’m not saying he was, but if he was-there’d be no way any of us could have known. Don’t blame yourself. All of us only got to know you, and each other as well for that matter, because of your nature, because you trust the people you like.”

“Exactly,” Paul said, “like we were sayin’ yesterday.”

“But do they have any evidence that Lupa was a spy?” Georges asked.

“Either no, or they won’t say. You’ve got to know this man, Magiot, the police chief, to appreciate him. They don’t, at least from my talks with him, have any case to speak of against Lupa. Of course, his ru

“So you don’t think it was Lupa?” asked Paul.

“I just don’t know.”

“Then who do you think it was? One of us?”

“No. I really don’t think that. It was undoubtedly Lupa, but Magiot’s case on him is so weak that to try and prove anything by it would be folly.”

“Except that he ran,” offered Georges.

“Except that he ran,” I agreed.

“And it might be that Magiot just didn’t tell you everything he knows, n’est-çe pas?”

I also agreed with that.

Having finished his beer, Paul stood up. “Well, I must be going along. Try to get some sleep before my meeting tonight. You say Fritz is cooking at La Couro

“You’re not going back to St. Etie

“No, no. I took a hotel room in town for today.”

Georges and I thanked Paul for the drinks. I’d stuck with Vichy throughout and felt good. Paul was a bit tipsy, and Georges offered to walk him to his hotel. They left, saying they’d see me the following night.

I got up and began walking toward A

It was not yet late afternoon, and I still didn’t feel like seeing Lupa, so I walked aimlessly past the flower shop. No one was inside. I strolled on through the town, past a group of training soldiers in their red pants and blue tunics, out to where the buildings grew more sparse and the fields began. Under a large oak that was begi

She had gone, left me without a note or a word, and I could put off the inevitable thought no longer. It was begi

A great world-weariness came and settled over me. I leaned back against the tree, defeated, and closed my eyes.

The sun was setting when I awoke with a start. Something from a dream had bothered me, and realizing what it had been, I woke up. It had been a clear day when I’d begun to doze, and looking in the direction of St. Etie

There had been none.