[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
'Oh, shut up.'
I chain-smoked that night, my muscles so tense, that I hardly inhaled the
smoke, and I don't know how many cigarettes I used before there came a soft
tapping on the door.
Topaz!' The voice was no more than a whisper but I could see Mebarki, the
Algerian secretary, as he came into the room. 'Are you both there?' Already
some reflex action had turned my cigarette to conceal its light behind my
palm.
'Yes,' said Topaz. The man stepped forward to the bed. There was a blaze of
light. I might have mistaken it for a photo-flash, except that it was a rich
yellow colour, rather than a thin blue. The flash of light printed Mebarki in
full colour upon the black negative of the room. He stood leaning forward,
like a man digging his garden. His eyes were half closed and his lips pursed
in mental, moral and physical effort. The resounding bang of the gun he held
seemed to come a long time afterwards. It was followed by the sound of
gun-shot buzzing round the room like angry flies. Then he pulled the second
trigger.
There was a clatter as the shotgun was dropped upon the floor, and a softer
noise that I later discovered to be the leather gloves he'd thrown after them.
From outside came the sound of the diesel engines. They revved and then moved
away, until the sound of the last truck faded.
Topaz was past help. I could see that without even switching the light on.
The point-blank shotgun blasts had torn her in two, and the bed was soaked
with warm blood.
I owed my life to a semantic distinction: had Mebarki said 'Are you both in
bed?' instead of 'Are you both there?', he would, no doubt, have devoted the
second barrel to me.
I reached forward gingerly to retrieve her gun, and rinsed it under the tap
in a process that was as much exorcism as it was forensic science.
Page 171
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Poor Topaz. Even traffic casualties who have played tag in the road deserve
our tears, but I could find none. In Portsmouth two would grieve each Sunday
morning of their final years marred by long bus rides to a chilly cemetery.
Armed only with the little pop-gun that the Arabs had given Topaz, and
equipped with a torch from beside my bed, I went through the house.
Billy's room was empty, but I threw some of his clothes into a canvas bag and
hurried down to the back door and went outside. I moved quickly and spoke
softly: 'Billy! Billy!' There was no response. I went round past the kitchen
door until I got to the fish pond. 'Billy! It's Uncle Charlie.'
There was a long silence, and when an answer came it was no more than a
whisper. 'Uncle Charlie.' Billy was behind the summer bouse from which we
played our games of calling to the fish. 'Is that you, Uncle Charlie?'
'Were you banging the doors, Billy?'
'It was those men--did you see the big lorries? They made the doors bang
twice.'
'That's all right, then,' I said 'As long as it wasn't you.' I picked him up.
He was dressed only in his thin pyjamas. I felt him shivering. 'We must hurry,
Billy.'
'Are we going somewhere?'
'Perhaps Aunty Nini will take you to England. Take you to Mummy.'
'For always?'
'If you want' Keeping off the gravel path, I carried Billy down to the copse
where I'd left the Fiat under the trees.
'Promise?
Page 172
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
'You know I'll try.'
'Daddy says that when he means no.' Billy put both arms round my neck. 'Aunty
Nini shot Henry,' he said.
'But only in the game,' I said.
'Was it?' be said, coming fully awake and staring at me.
'You and I always play jokes on Sunday,' I reminded him. 'There was the man
trapped inside the fire extinguisher, and the toy rabbit who hid ...'
'And the fishes you talked to.'
'There you are,' I said.
'Daddy will be awfully cross about the car,' said Billy.
That's why he went to bed,' I explained. 'I've had to promise to mend it'
'Oh dear,' said Billy with a deep sigh. 'But I'll help you, Uncle Charlie.'
I found the Fiat parked where I had left it. I unlocked the front door and
put Billy inside. As I looked back towards the house I saw a light shine from
one of the upstairs windows. I got into the car and closed the door without
slamming it. Another light shone from the upstairs windows of the house. I was
beginning to understand how they worked now: someone had come back to sweep up
the remains.
I started the Fiat. 'Hold tight, Billy!' I said. This might be a rough ride!'
The car careered over the rutted tracks.
'Yippee! Ate you going to drive right across the back fields?' said Billy
excitedly.
Page 173
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
'Yes,' I said. 'It's so dull always going out through the front gate.'
Chapter Twenty-three
THERE WAS a bright moon, but cloud was building up with every sign that the
promised storms would arrive by morning. I kept up a good speed on the dry
moonlit roads.
I took my own route into Nice rather than follow the obvious one.
I crossed the River Var high up, leaving behind the chic region where wealthy
psychiatrists throw poolside parties for pop-groups.
East of the Var is another landscape. Routiers and quarrymen work extra time
to buy a few hundred breeze blocks for raw little villas, that squat upon
steep hillsides and at the weekends excrete small cars. In record time we were
at St Pancrace. I raced through the empty streets of the northern suburbs and
along the Boulevard de Cessole to the station. From there it was only two
minutes to the Rue de la Buffa where Pina Baroni lived.
I found a parking place near the Anglican church. It was still only about one
am., but as the sound of the Fiat's motor faded there was not a sound or a
movement in any direction.
Pina lived on the fourth floor of a new apartment block, at the fashionable
end of the Rue de la Buffa. Across the street was Pina's boutique. Its
neighbours included two foreign banks, a poodle-clipper and the sort of
athletic club that turns out to be a sun-lamp salon for fat executives.
In the moonlight the white marble entrance was as bright as day. The foyer
was all tinted mirror, concealed lighting and locked glass doors, with a light
behind the intercom and a thief-proof welcome-mat. 'It's Charlie,' I said. The
door opened with a loud click, and a sign lighted to tell me to push the door
dosed behind me.
Page 174
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Pina was dressed as if ready to go out. 'Charlie--' she began, but I shook my
head, and at the sight of Billy she bent down to him. 'Darling Billy,' she
said, and embraced him tightly enough to squeeze the breath from his body.
'Aunty Nini,' he said dutifully, and stared at her thoughtfully.
'He got his feet wet,' I told her. 'He went down to talk to the fishes in his
pyjamas.'
'We'll give you a hot bath, Billy.'
These are dean pyjamas and underclothes and things,' I said. I indicated the
bag I'd brought 'Your Uncle Charlie thinks of everything,' said Pina.
'But always a bit too late,' I said.
As if anxious to avoid talking to me, Pina took Billy into the bathroom. I
heard the water running, and Pina came out and fussed about with dean sheets
and pillowcases for the spare bed.
'I want you to take him to England, Pina. Take him back to Caty.'
Pina looked at me without answering. 'Hot milk or cocoa?' she called loudly.
'Which would you like, Billy?
'Cocoa, please, Aunty Nini.'
'I can't,' said Pina.
'It's all over, Pina,' I said. 'Even now I can't guarantee to keep you out of
it'
She pushed past me and went into the tiny kitchen. She poured milk into a
saucepan, mixed cocoa into a jug and added sugar. She gave it all her
Page 175
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]