‘So Saunière and Gélis were not members of AA?’
‘What? Do you think they would allow men like that to enter their fold? Of course not! After that, Cros fell silent and Bishop Beauséjour let things die down. But Saunière did not stop. Sometime later he went to Abbé Grassaud at Saint-Paulde-Fenouillet because he had a good library. He told Grassaud that he was interested in the Blancheforts and the man gave him access to his files. That is when he discovered records pertaining to the transfer of a painting, a Poussin – Les Bergers d’Arcadie – the Shepherds of Arcadia, perhaps you have heard of it? It was transferred from the family of Perillos to the Blancheforts. When he returned to the village he searched the old castle of the Hautpouls but he found nothing. On his next visit to Paris he bought a reproduction and it sits now in the study. Perhaps you saw it yesterday?’
Rahn was struck then – two things colliding! Yes, he had seen it and now he remembered that Abbé Cros also had the same painting in his study! Why?
‘What has that painting to do with anything?’ he asked.
‘Perhaps something.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps nothing.’ She snapped the bible shut and looked at Rahn. ‘Now, if you want my advice, you had best watch yourself. You have entered into a field of war and you are in no-man’s-land. I asked you yesterday if you were prepared to enter Hell and you answered in the affirmative. That is how I knew you were the one to whom I could tell these things. I hope you are ready for the consequences.’ She said this and her face changed before his eyes: the hardness softened, the eyes became vague and the mouth drooped. Once again the master of deception adopted the mien of a fragile, arthritic old woman. ‘I am tired, I must rest,’ she said, settling herself into the role of old Madame Dénarnaud.
Rahn was not about to be dismissed. ‘Not so fast, madame! You weren’t just Saunière’s housekeeper! You were watching Saunière for someone else – who was it? Who was paying you to watch him? Was it Boudet? Was it Association Angelica? Or was it the penitents?’
‘Paying me?’ she said and her eyes became pinpoints without a speck of humour or humanity. ‘I am not for sale, to any order, or to any man, Monsieur Rahn! Our time is now over. I have nothing more to say to you.’ She turned her attention to Eva with a certain removed amusement. ‘So, you say you’re Cros’s niece? But who are you really, mademoiselle?’
The two women glared at one another. A momentary flash of recognition passed over the old woman, occasioning a strange battle of wills between the two of them: one old and a space from death, and the other replete in youthful vitality. Rahn observed it helplessly, without understanding, having been left quite out of the loop created by that silent battle.
When it was over the old woman broke off first, a little breathless. She gave Rahn a wisp of a glance.
‘If I were you, Monsieur Rahn, it is to this young lady that I would be directing my questions.’ But she could say no more because a voice disturbed them.
‘Well, burn my beard, there you are!’
Rahn couldn’t believe his ears until he turned around and looked to the doorway and saw La Dame’s dishevelled shape.
‘La Dame, what on Earth—?’
‘Never mind that! The police are right behind me!’ La Dame shrieked.
The sound of distant sirens reached them at that very moment. Feeling wretched, tired, frustrated and confused, Rahn turned to the old woman. ‘Is there another way out of this tower?’
‘At the bottom of those.’ The madame pointed to steps that led in a spiral downwards into darkness. ‘There is a room below that leads out in the direction of the old water tower; once you reach it, you can circle the town.’
Rahn got up to go but the old woman stopped him with a gnarled hand. ‘Don’t forget this.’ She gave him Bigou’s parchment, and in a moment she was a memory.
37
Data, Data, Data
‘It is a capital mistake to theorise before one has data.’
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’
Following Madame Dénarnaud’s instructions, they skirted Saunière’s garden and picked their way down side lanes. Luckily for them, most of the citizens had gathered at the church and, taking advantage of the chaos, they kept out of sight and slipped out of the town. They found La Dame’s Peugeot and were soon leaving Rennes-le-Château behind them. They drove in silence to Couiza, watching for police cars. Rahn had too much to think about and now he wasn’t certain he could trust Eva. Just as Deodat had written: trust no one!