This Night’s Foul Work

her.’

‘I see,’ said Veyrenc carefully. ‘So it’s in both our interests.’

‘Yes.’

‘But it’s not so easy, escaping from here,’ objected Veyrenc. ‘They can’t get out of the hospital without attacking the duty policemen. That wouldn’t look good. And you’d be suspected, or at best accused of negligence.’

‘Yes, they will attack a couple of policemen. I’ve got a couple of youngsters who’ll swear blind that the criminals knocked them to the ground.’

‘Estalere?’

‘Yes, and Lamarre.’

‘But why would Roland and Pierrot try to escape? They probably think it’s impossible to get out of the hospital. There could be more police at the exits.’

‘They’ll escape because I’ll tell them to.’

‘And they’ll obey you.’

‘Of course.’

‘And who says they won’t try it on again?’

‘I do.’

‘So you’re still giving them orders, commissaire?’

Adamsberg stood up and went round the bed. He looked at the temperature chart: 38.8 degrees.

‘We’ll talk about it again, Veyrenc, when we can each listen to what the other one’s saying. When your fever has gone down.’

XLI

THREE DOORS AWAY FROM VEYRENC, IN ROOM 435, ROLAND AND PIERROT were bargaining aggressively with the commissaire. Veyrenc had dragged himself painfully, step by step, to the doorway and, sweating with pain, strained his ears to pick up snatches of their conversation.

‘You’re bluffing,’ said Roland.

‘You ought to be thanking me for offering you a way out. Otherwise you’re looking at ten years minimum for you, and three for Pierrot. Shooting at a policeman’s a serious offence – they won’t show you any mercy.’

‘Carrot Top was out to kill us,’ said Pierrot. ‘It was legitimate self-defence.’

‘Anticipated self-defence,’ said Adamsberg. ‘And where’s your proof, Pierrot?’

‘Don’t listen to him, Pierrot,’ said Roland. ‘Carrot Top’s going to jail for murdering the others, plus intent to murder us, and we’ll get off with compensation, plenty of cash.’

‘No, that’s not what’s going to happen,’ said Adamsberg. ‘You’re going to make yourselves scarce, and you’re going to keep your mouths shut.’

‘Why?’ asked Pierrot, distrustfully. ‘What’s the catch, if you get us out of here? I smell a bloody great rat.’

‘Course you do. But the rat’s my business. You disappear, a long way off, and we hear no more from you, that’s all I’m asking.’

‘What’s the catch?’ Pierrot repeated.

‘I’ll tell you what the catch is. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll make public the name of the guy who paid you off all those years ago. And I don’t think he’ll much appreciate the publicity, thirty-four years on.’

‘What do you mean, paid us off?’ asked Pierrot, in genuine surprise.

‘Ask Roland,’ said Adamsberg.

‘Don’t listen to him,’ said Roland. ‘He’s a fucking tosser, always was.’

‘The deputy mayor in those days, remember him? In charge of planning and also a wine-grower. You know who I mean, Pierrot. And now he’s boss of a big building firm, isn’t he? He paid the gang a big advance to beat up the Veyrenc kid. With the rest to come after you got out of the reformatory. That’s why Roland’s got a chain of hardware stores, and that’s why Fernand was swanning about in the South of France.’

‘What money? I didn’t get any!’ yelled Pierrot.

‘No, neither did Big Georges. Roland and Fernand pocketed the lot.’

‘You bastard,’ hissed Pierrot.

‘Shut up, motherfucker,’ growled Roland.

‘Say it isn’t true, then,’ Pierrot demanded.

‘He can’t,’ said Adamsberg. ‘Because it is true. The deputy mayor was after all the vines of the Veyrenc de Bilhc appellation. He wanted to force a sale and threatened Veyrenc’s father if he wouldn’t play ball. But Veyrenc Senior hung on. So our man organised a gang attack on the little kid, knowing that the father would give in out of fear.’

‘I don’t have to listen to this bullshit,’ said Roland. ‘You can’t know all that stuff.’

‘I wouldn’t normally, no. Because you’d sworn secrecy to that bastard in the town hall. Only everyone always tells one person their secret, Roland, so you told your brother. Who told his girlfriend. Who told her cousin. Who told her best friend. Who told her boyfriend. Who happened to be my brother.’

‘Roland, you fucking bastard,’ said Pierrot from his bed.

‘I couldn’t put it better myself,’ said Adamsberg. ‘So now do you understand that if you don’t do as I say, and if you touch a hair of Veyrenc’s head, brown or ginger, I’ll publicise the name of your contact in the town hall. Who will have ways of taking care of you. So what’s your decision?’

‘We’ll go,’ muttered Roland.

‘Good. And you’d better not damage the looks of the two cops on duty, because they know the score. You can make it look convincing, but don’t hurt them.’

In the corridor, Veyrenc shrank back inside his door. He managed to reach his bed just before Adamsberg came out of Room 435. Veyrenc lay back on the bed, exhausted. He had never known exactly why his father had agreed to sell the vineyard in the end.

XLII

‘AND NOW THE WISE OLD CHAMOIS DID SOMETHING MONUMENTALLY stupid, out of jealousy, although he’d read all the books there were. He went and found two big wolves, who were unfortunately very mean and nasty. “Watch out for the ginger ibex,” he said, “he’s going to attack you with his horns.” No sooner said than done. The two wolves attacked the ginger ibex. They were very hungry and would have gobbled him all up, and he would never have been heard of again. And then the brown ibex would have been able to get on with his life in peace, without his rival, and had fun with the marmots and squirrels. And the girl ibex. But no, Tom, that’s not how it worked out, because life is more complicated and so is the inside of an ibex’s head. So the brown one went charging after the two wolves, and smashed their jaws. And they ran away without asking for more. The ginger one had been bitten on his leg, so the brown one had to look after him. He couldn’t let him die, now could he, Tom? And all this time, the girl ibex was hiding. She didn’t want to have to choose between the brown ibex and the ginger one, that upset her. So the two ibex sat down on their chairs and smoked their pipes and had a chat. But all the same, they would have attacked each other with their horns over the slightest thing. Because one thought he was right and the other one was wrong. And the other one thought he was telling the truth and the other one was lying.’

The baby put a finger on his father’s eye.

‘Yes, Tom, it is difficult. It’s a bit like the opus spicatum, with fishbones going one way and another. And then Third Virgin, who lived all by herself in a nice little rabbit hole with her gerbils, appeared on the scene. She lived on dandelions and plantains, and she was very scared, because a tree had nearly fallen on her. Third Virgin was very tiny, she drank a lot of coffee, and didn’t know how to protect herself against the evil spirits of the forest. So Third Virgin called for help. But some of the other ibex got cross, they said