Free Vertigo by Pierre Boileau Page B

me?’ he growled. ‘Do you think I like the situation any better? I appreciate your scruples, but we’ve no choice. If I had the time, I’d take on the job myself. But I’ve got myself so tied up…’
    Dropping the paper-knife he folded his arms. His head seemed jammed down on his shoulders as he looked steadily at Flavières.
    ‘Give me another fortnight, old man. Three weeks at the outside. Things are moving fast. I shall probably have to enlargemy shipyard and that’ll mean settling down altogether at Le Havre. I hope Madeleine will agree to living there. Until then, keep an eye on her… I can see your point of view; I’ve given you both a delicate task and a thankless one. But don’t chuck it up, I beg you. For the next two or three weeks I need to be free of all outside worries, so that I can concentrate on our new plans.’
    Flavières made a pretence of hesitating.
    ‘If you really think it’s only a matter of two or three weeks.’
    ‘You have my word for it.’
    ‘All right. So long as you understand my position. I don’t approve of these outings. I’m an impressionable type… You see, I’m being completely frank with you…’
    Gévigne’s face had a hard, businesslike look, the look he found useful at board meetings, no doubt. Yet, he smiled.
    ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘There aren’t enough people in the world like you. I quite understand. But Madeleine’s safety takes precedence over everything else.’
    ‘Have you any particular reason for fearing anything?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Has it occurred to you that if your wife acts on the spur of the moment, as she did the other day, I might not be able to intervene in time?’
    ‘Yes… I’ve thought of… of everything.’
    He lowered his eyes; he clenched a fist so tightly that his knuckles went white.
    ‘But it won’t happen,’ he went on. ‘And if it did, at least you’d be there to tell the tale. That would be something. What I can’t bear is the uncertainty… I’d a hundred times sooner Madeleine was ill, desperately ill; I’d sooner she was undergoing the most dangerous operation. At least I should know where I was. Bon  dieu! I could count the chances one way or the other. But in this fog… Perhaps you don’t understand that.’
    ‘Oh yes, I do.’
    ‘Then you’ll carry on?’
    ‘I will. Don’t worry… By the way, do you know if she’s ever been to Saintes?’
    ‘Saintes?’ exclaimed Gévigne, taken aback. ‘No. I’m sure she hasn’t. What put the idea into your head?’
    ‘She described it exactly as if she’d been there.’
    ‘What are you getting at now?’
    ‘Would she have seen photographs of the town?’
    ‘Anyone might see an old photograph of a place. That doesn’t enable them to describe it. We’ve never been down the west coast. We haven’t even got a guide-book of that region.’
    ‘What about Pauline Lagerlac? Could she have lived there?’
    ‘That’s more than I could tell you.’
    ‘It doesn’t sound improbable… with a name ending in –- ac . There are lots round there: Cognac, Chermignac, Germozac—oh, dozens of them.’
    ‘And you think—’
    ‘Of course I do. Your wife can describe places she’s never seen herself, but which were known to Pauline Lagerlac… And, wait a minute. This is what’s so interesting—she describes them not as they are now, but as they were a century ago.’
    Gévigne frowned.
    ‘How do you explain it?’ he asked.
    ‘I don’t. I can’t. Not yet. It’s too extraordinary… Pauline and Madeleine…’
    ‘But we’re living in the twentieth century, you know! You’re not going to pretend that Pauline and Madeleine… Of course Iknow that Madeleine is obsessed by this great-grandmother of hers, but there must be a reasonable explanation of it. That’s why I turned to you. I was beginning to go off the rails a bit myself. I looked to you to steady me up, you with your legal mind.’
    ‘I’ve offered to withdraw,’ retorted Flavières, slightly