The Sixth Key(106)

It was only later, as they sat in the shabby interior of a boulangerie that Rahn began to relax a little. Eva had gone to freshen up and La Dame was dunking his croissant into his coffee and eating with relish, dribbling it over his blond beard.

‘Do you know how long it’s been since I tasted croissant like this?’ he said, as happy as a child.

Now they were alone, Rahn asked La Dame the burning question, ‘What are you doing here, La Dame?’

‘Firstly,’ he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaning forward, ‘before she comes back, you simply have to tell me. Are you and she . . . you know . . . ?’

‘What do you mean?’ Rahn said.

‘Are you and the mademoiselle . . . amoureux . . . perhaps even intimately involved?’ He smiled.

‘Eva and I?’

‘Is that her name? But of course! It suits her. Eva, the temptress from the garden of good and evil, with the eyes of an angel. I have to say, dear Rahn, she’s terribly like an actress. I’m trying to place her . . . dark, large eyes, slender . . .’

‘Louise Brooks,’ Rahn said, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.

‘That’s it! Louise Brooks exactly, in that Pabst film. What was it called?’ He bit at his croissant as if both the idea of the actress and the reality of the croissant were closely matched, in his estimation.

‘Pandora’s Box,’ Rahn said, about to lose his temper.

‘Yes!’ La Dame said cheerfully, oblivious to Rahn’s escalating vexation. ‘That’s it! Pandora’s Box! So, if you’re not, you know . . . do you mind . . . if I . . . um . . . partake of the apples of Hesperides?’

‘If you what?’

‘If I were to . . . take a bite from that apple, so to speak!’

Rahn lost his temper and thumped the table. ‘La Dame! Will you get your mind out of those London Cut pants and concentrate on what matters, for God’s sake! What are you doing here?’

‘I came looking for you,’ he said, a little taken aback, ‘and you might treat me with a little kindness considering I have that information you wanted. I couldn’t get a hold of you on the number you gave me, so I came here. You told me you were at Rennes-le-Château. Besides, I really had no choice in the matter . . . because of an unfortunate event.’

The boulangerie was quiet. There were only two other patrons. La Dame called the waiter over and ordered another pot of coffee.

Rahn leant in. ‘What unfortunate event?’

La Dame bit into his last mouthful of croissant, licked his fingers and rubbed his hands together before saying, between chews, ‘I spent most of yesterday looking up Masonic emblems at the university library and when I returned to my dormitory I found something rather distasteful.’

‘I dread to think,’ Rahn said, sarcastically.

‘Well, your mind is in the gutter, Rahn! No, I found that a colleague had been murdered in my absence.’

Rahn blinked these words in. ‘Murdered?’

La Dame nodded, satisfied, as if the mere act of speaking had released the genie from the bottle and had made him someone else’s concern.

‘Murdered, by whom?’

‘I don’t know but whoever did it they certainly know how to slice a throat from ear to ear.’ He grimaced. ‘Disconcerting – not to mention messy. But the point is, dear Rahn, it could have been me. So much for my comfortable life!’ he said. ‘Please remind me not to help you again.’

The waiter brought a new pot of coffee. La Dame took a silver flask from his pocket and poured some brandy into his cup. ‘I can kiss my life goodbye now,’ he said sourly, offering the flask to Rahn, who nodded in commiseration and poured two nips into his own cup.

‘I am now, as they say, a hunted man!’ La Dame said theatrically.

‘Sorry, La Dame,’ Rahn said, dejected, worried. ‘I wonder if I could have made a bigger mess of things if I’d tried.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ La Dame replied and the two of them clinked cups.

Rahn had a thought. ‘Wait a minute, how do you know the murder is related to me?’

‘Well, it’s like this, Rahn.’ La Dame paused for effect. ‘The poor wretch couldn’t stand the noise of the music master’s snoring – which, like a discordant instrument, comes right through the walls – so he asked me if I would swap rooms with him. As you know, I sleep like a log.’ La Dame took a good sip of his brandied coffee and gave a silent ahh! before continuing: ‘Charity does have its advantages. Luckily for me I didn’t have time to change our names in the register before they had closed for the night.’ He looked at Rahn with bleary eyes and croissant crumbs on his moustache and beard, more crumbs on his suit. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’