Skeleton Dance

cases where that was all you needed for a positive identification.'

'Right,” Gideon said. “All we had to do was ask the right dentist to see whether they matched the files of one of his patients. But to find the right dentist you have to have a pretty good idea of who the victim is so that—'

'Which we do. Jean Bousquet.'

'Sure, but who was Jean Bousquet's dentist?'

'Why should that be so difficult to find out? He must have had a dentist. Someone did that work. And you said there was a crown too, on another tooth.'

'But not somebody from around here,” Gideon said. “The crown had a lot of wear on it; it was in his mouth a good ten years, probably more. And Bousquet was a drifter; who knows where he was ten years ago?'

'Not I,” Joly agreed sadly.

'Oh,” said Julie.

'Of course it's always possible he did go to a dentist while he was here,” Gideon said, “and that dentist might be able to help.'

'Yes, I'll see,” Joly said, but they all knew there wasn't much hope of that. Drifters, whether French or American, didn't typically make regular visits to the dentist, and Bousquet had spent only three months in Les Eyzies.

'So,” Julie said brightly after a solemn pause during which the only sound was the clinking of china cups on china saucers, “where to from here?

'I was thinking,” Gideon said. “Tomorrow I start my interviews on the hoax. I ought to be able to pry a little more out of them about what was going on at the time without too much trouble.'

Julie stared at him and then at Joly. “He's got to be kidding.'

'Thank you, Gideon,” Joly said politely, “but I have my own resources.'

'Sure you do, but you said I could do it more subtly than you could before; why not now?'

'Why not . . .” Julie put down her cup with a bang. “Because they've already fragmented your . . . your stupid neuroaxons, haven't they? What do you expect them to do next? Politely ask if you wouldn't be good enough, old chap, to stay out of it?'

'Julie makes a good—” Joly began.

'Now be reasonable, people,” Gideon said. “Let's look at this objectively. No one had any intention of killing me or even injuring me—'

'No? What was it then?” Julie asked. “Some form of ritual greeting known only to Middle Paleolithic archaeologists? ‘Salutations, O fellow archaeologist.’ Bop!'

What he'd meant, he explained, was that it was obvious that no one had gone to the St.-Cyprien morgue with the objective of doing him harm. The purpose had clearly been to remove the bones so that they couldn't be identified, nothing more. Gideon had had the misfortune of walking in at the wrong time. The tap on the head he'd received—

'Tap on the head!” Julie exclaimed to Joly. “That wasn't what he was calling it an hour ago.'

—had been a desperation measure, nothing more. “And if the guy had wanted me dead, why didn't he finish the job then, instead of leaving me on the floor unconscious?'

'Maybe he thought you were dead.'

'No, he wouldn't have thought I was dead. And anyway, I'm not any kind of a threat to anybody any more. With the bones gone what could they have to worry about from me? Besides, my asking everybody questions is perfectly natural. They're all expecting it. That's what I'm here for, remember?

Pretty impeccable logic, he thought, but Joly seemed doubtful and Julie wasn't buying it at all. “I'd say the issue is moot,” she said. “How do you expect to interview anybody tomorrow? You can't even blink your eyes without wincing.'

'Granted, but tomorrow, if I'm feeling better—'

'I'll tell you what,” Joly said thoughtfully. “I expect to be busy with other things tomorrow in any case—I want to chat with some of Bousquet's acquaintances, and with the receptionist at the St.-Cyprien hospital, and so on. Assuming that you're physically able, I don't think it would be a bad thing at all if you went ahead with your scheduled interviews.'

'Fine.'

'But only on the condition that you don't play at detective. You're to stick to the subject of your book and not raise questions about Bousquet and his troubles with Carpenter or anyone else, or about the missing bones; that's my job. On the other hand, if information presents itself without provocation on your part, well and good; I'll be interested to hear.'

'Deal.'

'And it would be wise to make no mention of the episode at St.-Cyprien. Only the guilty party is likely to know of it, and it might be that he would say something to give himself away.'

'Good point, I agree. Julie, what about you? If you'd really feel better if I didn't—'

'Do you really promise to do what Lucien asked you to? Stick to the Old Man of Tayac?'

He raised his hand. “Word of honor.'

'Okay, good, I'll go along with it as long as you promise not to do anything dumb. You might have brain cells to spare, but I only have one husband, and I'm not interested in being in the market for another.'