The Three Evangelists

‘Who, Georges? Nothing,’ said Juliette. ‘What could he do? He suffered in silence as they say, that’s all.’

‘And what about your house?’

Juliet winced.

‘When he stopped acting I thought he was going to forget this opera singer and meet other women. I was relieved. But I was wrong. He bought her records, he went to see her at the Paris Opera when she was singing there, and even to towns in the provinces. I can’t say I was happy about it.’

‘Why?’

‘It was just making him sad, and it was going nowhere. And then one day, our grandfather fell ill. He died some months later, and we inherited. Georges came to see me, looking at the ground as usual. He said that there was a house that had been on the market for three months, in central Paris, but with a garden. That he’d often been past it, doing his rounds on his scooter. I was tempted by the garden. If you come from the country, you miss the grass. I went to see the house with him, and we decided to buy it. I was keen, especially because I had seen a place nearby where I could set up with my restaurant. That is, I was enthusiastic until I found out who our neighbour was.’

Juliette asked Vandoosler for a cigarette. She hardly ever smoked. She looked tired and sad. Mathias brought her a glass of cordial.

Of course, I had it out with Georges,’ said Juliette. ‘We quarrelled. I really wanted to sell it. But by that stage we couldn’t. We’d already started to have work done on the house, and in Le Tonneau. There wasn’t really any way we could pull out then. He swore to me that he wasn’t in love with her any more, or almost not, that he just wanted to be able to see her from time to time, maybe even become friends. I gave in. Anyway I didn’t have much choice. He made me promise not to tell anyone, especially, Sophia.’

‘Why? Was he afraid?’

‘He was ashamed. He didn’t want Sophia to guess he had followed her here, or for people round about to know and laugh at him. It was only natural. We decided to say that I’d found the house, if anyone asked us. Nobody did. Anyway. When Sophia recognised Georges in the street, we laughed and said what a coincidence.’

‘And she believed that?’ asked Vandoosler.

‘Apparently,’ Juliette said. ‘Sophia never seemed to suspect anything. When I saw her for the first time, I understood why Georges was so keen on her. She was really beautiful. She charmed everyone. At first she wasn’t here much, always going off on tour. But I tried to meet her often, and to get her to come to the restaurant.’

‘What for?’ asked Marc.

‘Well, I was hoping to help Georges, to get her to notice him a bit. I was sort of matchmaking, I guess. It wasn’t the right thing to do, no, I know, but he is my brother. Anyway it didn’t work. Sophia would say hello nicely to Georges when she met him in the street, and that’s as far as it ever went. He began to get the message. So his idea of buying the house was turning out OK after all. And gradually, I became very friendly with Sophia.’

Juliette finished the cordial and looked round at them. Their faces were silent and preoccupied. Mathias was wriggling his toes in his sandals.

‘Tell me, Juliette,’ said Vandoosler. ‘What was Georges doing on the night of Thursday June 3? Was he here, or was he away somewhere?’

‘June 3? When they found Sophia’s body? Why do you want to know?’

‘I’d just like to know.’

She shrugged and picked up her handbag. She took out a little diary.

‘I make a note of all his trips,’ she said. ‘So as to know when he’ll be back and get a meal ready for him. He left here on the morning of the third, and came back at lunchtime next day. He was in Caen.’

‘So the night of the second to the third, he was here?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said, ‘and you know that as well as I do. I’ve told you everything now. You’re not going to stir things up about this, are you? It’s just a sad story of unrequited love that went on too long. There’s nothing more to say about it. And he certainly didn’t attack her. He wasn’t the only man in the cast, for heaven’s sake!’

‘But he was the only one who kept following her for several years after that,’ said Vandoosler. ‘And I don’t know what Leguennec will make of that.’

Juliette stood up abruptly.

‘He worked under a stage name!’ she cried. ‘If you don’t tell Leguennec, he’d never know Georges was in the cast that year.’

‘The police have ways and means,’ said Vandoosler. ‘Leguennec will check the cast list.’

‘He won’t be able to find him!’ cried Juliette. ‘And anyway, Georges didn’t do anything wrong!’

‘Did he go back on the stage after the attack?’ Vandoosler asked.

Juliette looked upset. ‘I don’t remember,’ she said.

Vandoosler got up in turn. Feeling desperate, Marc stared at his knees and Mathias had gone to look out of the window. Lucien had disappeared without anyone noticing. Off to fetch his war diaries.

‘You do remember,’ said Vandoosler. ‘You know he didn’t go back to acting. He came back to Paris, and he told you that he had been too upset by the attack, didn’t he?’

Juliette looked panic-stricken. Yes, it was obvious that she remembered.

She ran out, slamming the door.

‘She’s cracking up,’ said Vandoosler.

Marc was gritting his teeth. Georges was a murderer, he had killed four people, and Vandoosler was a brute and a bastard.

‘Are you going to tell Leguennec?’ he hissed.

‘We have to. See you this evening.’

He took the photograph and left.

Marc didn’t feel like seeing his godfather that evening. If Georges was arrested, it would get Alexandra off the hook. But he was feeling ashamed. My God, one doesn’t crack nuts with one’s bare hands.

Three hours later. Leguennec and three policemen arrived at Juliette’s house to arrest Gosselin. But he had fled, and Juliette couldn’t tell them where he had gone.

XXXIII

MATHIAS SLEPT BADLY. AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING, HE PULLED ON A sweater and trousers and slipped out quietly to knock at Juliette’s door. The door was wide open. He found her sitting on a chair, looking shattered, three policemen round her turning the house upside down, hoping to find Georges Gosselin hiding in a cupboard. Others were doing the same thing at Le Tonneau. Cellars, kitchens, every room was subjected to the same search. Mathias stood with his arms dangling, looking at the unimaginable mess the police had managed to make in just an hour. Leguennec, who arrived at about eight o’clock, gave the order for the house in Normandy to be searched as well.

‘Shall we help you clear up?’ Mathias asked when the police had left.

‘No,’ said Juliette. ‘I don’t want to see the others. They shopped Georges to Leguennec.’

Mathias pressed his big hands together.

‘You’ll be paid for the day, but the restaurant won’t open,’ Juliette said.

‘So I can help you clear up?’

‘Yes, as long as it’s just you,’ she said. ‘You can give me a hand.’

While he was sorting things out, Mathias tried to talk to Juliette, to explain a few things, to prepare her and calm her down. It seemed to comfort her somewhat.

‘Look,’ she said. ‘Leguennec’s taking Vandoosler away with him. Now what else is that old man going to say to him?’

‘Don’t worry, he’ll pick and choose. That’s how he is.’

* * *