'Did you notice anything?'
'Yes, he began to speak in a funny whispering way and his breathing became heavy and torturous.'
'I know. He did that once when I was in his cabin, but Albert and Tom were with me and he doesn't see us as a threat. He's psychotic. Maybe all professional soldiers are, but Reggie is very psychotic. You know what he specialized in when he was in Vietnam?'
They were in Madelin's car, almost out of the estate. De Gier was glad he didn't have to watch the road. It was snowing heavily and the wind drove the snowflakes into the windscreen. The car was going dead slow. When it skidded, just as they reached the main road, Madelin let go of the wheel. 'That's what you should have done, sergeant. But you were going fast I suppose. If you let go of the wheel the car will steady itself again. Did you slam on the brakes?'
'Yes.'
'It's hard not to slam the brakes on when you're in a skid, but when you do the car becomes a sleigh and you lose all control.'
'Yes,' de Gier said. 'I am an idiot. What did Reggie do in Vietnam?'
'He told me once, at a cocktail party at Janet's place. He and his buddies, four of them in all, sought out Vietcong camps. They would arm themselves with knives, a small mortar, and light machine guns. Reggie would kill the guard. It was very important to kill the guard. If he couldn't do it they would go back into the jungle again and call the whole thing off. But if Reggie could get his knife into the guard the four men would spread out and lire their machine guns, at a height of about a foot, horizontally. They would strafe and spray until they were out of ammunition. The Vietcong slept a foot off the ground. Next they would lob mortar shells into the camp. And then they would run off and meet in some prearranged place. His buddies got killed and Reggie trained new buddies and went on. He survived and then the war was over. Now it's woodchucks.'
'And retired old people on the Cape Orca shore.'
'Indeed, sergeant.'
'You might have told me.'
Madelin laughed. 'No. You had to find out. But you stumbled into it, didn't you? You crashed into it.'
'I did.'
'You don't have some clever excuse? Why don't you tell me that you knew all along and that your accident tonight was a clever rase.'
'No, I was just blundering along.'
She stopped the car. 'I love you, sergeant. You're forty-one years old, you need half glasses to read the small print, and you're not intelligent. Kiss me.'
She waited for him to make the move. He did. He was a little slow. His neck hurt.
'Hmmmm,' Madelin said. 'That was good. Do it
'No.'
'Please.'
'No.'
'I want to feel your teeth.'
He sat back. 'My teeth?'
'Yes,' Madelin said. 'You have nice teeth, but they do protrude a little. That's why I was so worried when I saw the wreck of the Dodge and the lights of Reggie's cabin.'
'For God's sake,' de Gier said and felt his teeth. 'You don't mean that I look like a woodchuck, do you? I've never seen a woodchuck. Some sort of rodent?'
She let herself fall over sideways, twisted, and looked up from his lap. 'Yes. Some sort of rodent. Big and handsome. With wide shoulders and curly brown hair and a big beautiful mustache. Not so clever but very genuine. I love you, sergeant.'
20
I am sorry,' the Sheriff said, 'But I'll have to take you out for breakfast. The old man in jail doesn't feel well, and I'm low on energy myself. We really have a need for a matron. I wish I had the courage to tell that to the selectmen. Do you mind going out for breakfast?'
De Gier was facing the mirror and had just raised his upper lip. 'A rodent!' he muttered. 'The girl is quite mad. My teem aren't that long. And they don't protrude that much!'
'Pardon?' the sheriff asked, settling himself a little more comfortably on the sergeant's bed.
'Nothing, just muttering.'
The sheriff watched the sergeant manipulate his can of shaving cream. 'You aren't doing that right, you know. Don't you have ready-made foam in Europe?'
'We do,' de Gier said, 'but I've never used it.'
The sheriff sat up. 'Don't just take a quarter of an inch. Go on, let it whoosh out. Be a devil! You're in America now, and where there's wealth there's waste. Take a handful and plaster it all over your face. Go on!'
The sergeant shaved and the sheriff watched as he continued, 'Do you know why I'm low on energy? No? I'll tell you. I'm weak because I used my brain all night, a most unusual activity these days. I haven't used my brain since I left the university.'
De Gier wiped his face clean and turned around. 'University?'
'Sure. I have lots of qualifications. I'm the most overqualified official this county has ever hired. I could be a real cop in a real city, but I haven't learned to be ambitious yet. The splendor of the big time frightens me. Or maybe the big assholes taking care of big crime haven't impressed me. They don't take care of crime anyway, they just find ways of living with it, or off it. Anyway, I thought last night. With some success, I think. I know it all now, or most of it. What I don't know doesn't matter. You've figured it out too, haven't you?'
De Gier was splashing on the after shave. 'No. I can't fit in Astrinsky. Madelin goes free, you agree to that point?'
The sheriff smiled, then giggled. 'Of course, can't haul in my colleague's girlfriend, can I? You spent some time with her last night again?'
'Not too much. She gave me a lift back here. I am very sorry about the Dodge, Jim.'
'That's okay. The tow truck should be on its way to collect the wreck now. I didn't want to bother you last night. You looked a little tired and beat-up. Did me accident have anything to do with the investigation?'
'No, just with my bad driving.'
The sheriff shrugged. 'The Dodge was a good car, but that model is too small for police work out here. I should be able to screw a better replacement out of the authorities. Don't give it another thought, sergeant. We need good wheels. The hell with their penny-pinching. So what did you turn up last night?'
'Same as what you turned up. You spoke to Leroux, didn't you?'
'I sure did. We can discuss it all a little later. Your chief should be here any minute now. Why don't we go down?'
De Gier was adjusting his silk scarf. He got it right, but then it slipped down too far. He clicked his tongue irritably and started all over again. The sheriff watched him patiently.
'Are you done now? It looks very elegant like that.'
The commissaris' station wagon turned into the yard as the sheriff and de Gier came out of the jailhouse.
'Morning,' the commissaris said. 'How good of you to ask me again. I forgot to tell Suzanne and she was boiling porridge, but I got away. Same sort of porridge my mother used to make.'
'You didn't care for your mother's porridge, sir?'
'Didn't care?' the commissaris asked in a high voice. 'Yagh! Aren't we going in, sheriff?'
'No, sir. I thought I'd take the two of you out to Bern's. She knows we're coming. I telephoned.'
The commissaris stopped frowning. 'Beth's! Good!' He rubbed his mittens together. 'Ha!'
Beth served and the three men ate. There were home-fried potatoes and sausages and three eggs each.
