Skeleton Dance

'He was. It was offered to him more than once. He turned it down—just not interested in that end of things. As for why Ely got it—” Gideon hunched his shoulders. “—I'm not sure. Could be because he was an American, and it'd been a while since the last time there'd been an American director. Whatever the reason, he's the one who got it, even though most people figured it was bound to go to Jacques as a matter of course.'

'And so you think. . . ?'

'I think that with Ely gone . . . it did.'

'Oh.” It was Julie's turn to begin toying with her cup.

'What is it?” Gideon said.

'Nothing, but as long as we're rat-finking on our friends, I might as well get into the act too.” She sighed; her mouth turned down at the corners. “Lucien might want to give some thought to Pru as well. She had a possible reason for wanting Ely dead. She told me at lunch.'

'Their affair, you mean. Yes, I suppose that's always—'

'Affair, what affair? No, I mean, about his firing her.'

'Firing her? Ely fired Pru? She never told me that.'

'Well, laid her off. Practically as soon as he was in the director's chair.'

'It could have been on account of their affair,” Gideon mused. “To get rid of her, if he was tired of it.'

'What affair, damn it? I don't know about any affair. All I know is they needed to make some financial cuts, some position had to be eliminated, and Pru was the one who got the axe.'

'Well, she would have been the least senior.'

'After Carpenter himself, you mean. Anyway, if he was trying to get her out of his hair it didn't work, because she hung around Les Eyzies and supported herself as a cave guide until Jacques re-hired her.'

'And when was that?'

'Right off the bat. I guess he had more pull with the foundation, or maybe they found some more money somewhere, because the very first week he was on the job he not only put Pru back on the payroll, he brought on a full-time, hotshot secretary from Paris instead of the student part-timer they'd had before.'

'Madame Lacouture,” Gideon said with a smile. “And his life has never been the same since.” He gestured inquiringly at the empty coffee cups, and at Julie's nod he signaled Madame Leyssales for more.

'Altogether I think Pru was out three or four months in all.” Julie twisted uncomfortably in her chair. “Look, Gideon, the only reason I'm bringing this up is that it would be stupid to avoid mentioning it to Lucien, but not for a single minute do I think there's anything to it. There was absolutely no sign of resentment there; none. We were just telling each other our life stories—abridged versions, obviously—and she happened to mention it, that's all.'

'But what you might not know is that everybody but Pru has a permanent outside appointment for the seven months a year the institute's not in session. Pru's never latched on to a tenured university position, and as near as I can tell she spends the off-season traveling—Europe, Africa, Japan—on the cheap, I mean: pensiones, b-and-b's, ryokans, that kind of thing. Sometimes she latches on to a temporary job at a dig somewhere, but those are few and far between.'

'So?'

'So Pru, unlike everybody else at the institute depends on her institute stipend to keep body and soul together. Unless, of course she has some independent income, about which I wouldn't know— but if she doesn't, then getting laid off would have had to be a serious blow.'

'And you're suggesting she might have been so upset that she killed him over it?'

'Don't sound so incredulous. I'm just saying pretty much the same thing I was saying about Jacques, namely that when Carpenter was appointed she lost something important to her . . . but when he was killed she got it back. It's worth keeping in mind, that's all. Hey, aren't you the one who brought this up?'

The coffees came. Julie added a little cream to hers, bringing a discreet sniff of disapproval from Madame Leyssales—except for their morning cafes au lait, the French held to the belief that coffee should be taken black.

'Yes, but the more I think about it,” Julie said, “the less likely it gets. Why would she be crazy enough to mention getting laid off to me if she'd murdered him over it, or if it even crossed her mind that someone might eventually think she had?'

To create precisely the impression of innocence she had, in the event that Carpenter's murder was eventually discovered, thought Gideon, but there was such a thing as getting too rococo and he had the feeling that they'd just about reached that point, or perhaps passed it a while back. Besides, although he'd managed to hold off the after- effects of his concussion all day, his head had begun to ache—all this heavy thinking—and he was beginning to sorely feel the need to lie down.

'You're right about that,” he agreed, swigging down the two tablespoons or so of coffee in the tiny cup and wishing he'd remembered to ask for decaf instead. “We'll pass all this on to Lucien—he'll probably laugh—but I vote that we return to our previous hypothesis.'

'Agreed,” said Julie. “The Theory of Interconnected Monkey Business is hereby officially re-invoked.” She stood up. “Let's get you to bed before you fall out of your chair.'

* * * *

'Still awake?” she asked.

'Uh-huh,” Gideon said, not sure if he was or not. He'd been lying on his back, not his usual position for sleeping, and staring at the occasional reflections of headlights shimmering across the dark ceiling.

'Can I ask you a question?'

'As long as it doesn't require actual thought.'