Adamsberg walked home along the darkened streets. He would not tell Tom a word about Ariane’s atrocities. He had no wish that such horrors should reach the child so early in life. In any case, there was no such thing as a dissociated ibex. Only human beings have a talent for bringing about this kind of calamity. Whereas ibex can make their horns grow out of their skulls, just like stags. That’s something humans can’t do. So we’ll stick to stories about the ibex.
Then the wise old chamois who’d read lots of books realised that he had made a big mistake. But the ginger ibex never found out that the wise chamois had thought he was wicked. And then the ginger ibex realised that he’d made a big mistake too and that the brown ibex wasn’t wicked, either. Right you are, said the brown ibex, that’s ten centimes you owe me.
In the little garden, Adamsberg put the antlers down while he looked for his keys. Lucio appeared immediately from the darkness and joined him under the hazel tree.
‘All right,
Lucio slipped across to the hedge without waiting for a reply and came back with two beers, which he opened. His radio was hissing away in his pocket.
‘This woman,’ he said, passing Adamsberg a bottle. ‘The one who hadn’t finished her task. You gave her the potion?’
‘Yes.’
‘And she drank it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’
Lucio took a few mouthfuls, before pointing to the ground with the tip of his walking stick.
‘What’s that you’re carrying around?’
‘A ten-pointer from Normandy.’
‘Live or cast?’
‘Live.’
‘Good,’ said Lucio again. ‘But don’t separate them.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘You know something else too?’
‘Yes, Lucio, the Shade has gone. Dead, finished, out of the way.’
The old man stood for a moment without speaking, tapping the top of the little bottle against his teeth. He looked at Adamsberg’s house, then turned to the
‘How?’
‘Guess.’
‘They used to say she could only be killed by an old man.’
‘Well, that’s what happened.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It happened in Warsaw,’
‘The day before yesterday, in the evening?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘What happened?’
‘An old Polish man, aged ninety-two, ran her over. She went under the front wheels of his car.’
Lucio thought, and rolled the bottle across his mouth.
‘Just like that?’ he said, gesturing with his only fist.
‘Just like that,’ Adamsberg said.
‘Like the tanner, with his bare hands.’
Adamsberg smiled and picked up his antlers.
‘Stands to reason,’ he punctuated.
Fred Vargas
FRED VARGAS was born in Paris in 1957. A historian and archaeologist by profession, she is now an internationally bestselling author.
SIAN REYNOLDS is a historian, translator, and former professor at the University of Stirling in Scotland.
