Free The Art of Murder by Louis Shalako Page A

balance after
inspecting the memorial in place.” Levain seemed to know a little
bit about it.
    “ Maintenon?”
    “ Er, yes.” Levain stepped
in.
    “ This is the fellow I told
you about, Charles.” Charles nodded.
    “ Oh, yes.” He went blank for
a moment, but then he seemed to recall the incident. “And you want
the black one? With a black base?”
    “ Yes, and he wants you to
deliver it.” Levain seemed to be in charge now, and Gilles let
him.
    The man named a figure, and Levain
shrugged, looking at Gilles. Gilles agreed, and the gentleman
started putting figures together in a column on paper. It was a
fairly simple sales contract.
    Levain told him the name of the
cemetery, and that affected the price somehow as well. There were
certain fees involved, peculiar to the different establishments
around the city. Gilles thought he had paid all of them already,
but apparently that wasn’t so. This was different from a funeral,
the fellow explained, and some folks went years without a monument
while the survivors saved their pennies.
    “ For you, sir, I’ll let you
have the base at half price.” Levain gave an encouraging
nod.
    “ Thank you.” Gilles accepted
it at face value.
    It was only later, jammed side by side
on the Metro when Levain explained that Charles’ wife’s cousin had
been strangled by her no-good boyfriend, and that Maintenon was
responsible for his apprehension and subsequent execution by
guillotine. People often congratulated him upon the conviction of a
killer. He never knew what to think or to say under those
circumstances. There really was nothing valid to say—it sounded
like moral condemnation, which he preferred not to do. Most
perpetrators were as pathetic as they were dangerous. It was
something that happened in the heat of the moment, which destroyed
lives and changed people forever.
    “ Who says justice is only
for the rich, eh, Inspector?”
    Gilles grinned a little lopsidedly. He
really was feeling better about things, and the ache in his jaw was
finally fading.
    “ We have an interesting
errand for Monday.” Gilles’ voice was curiously flat,
expressionless.
    “ Which is?” Levain’s
eyebrows rose at the answer.
    “ We’re going to see a
hypnotist.”
    Levain thought he was
joking.
    “ At your command, good
sir.”
    “ I’m serious, Andre. Anyway,
it’s better than a dentist.”
    So he really was serious
then.
     
    ***
     
    Locking the street door, for they lived
above a small dress shop on a quieter side street not far from
work, Andre took his bicycle and locked it up in the back room. He
hung up his overcoat and put his plain old hat on a peg by the back
door. The black rubber slip-ons were a struggle as usual, and as
usual, the hard leather shoes underneath stank of moisture and old
socks. It went with the job.
    Andre wearily climbed two flights up
from the street, as the sounds of the heavy evening traffic and the
clanging of trams faded. It was hot at the head of the stairs, the
air permeated with an enticing aroma. There was a roast in the oven
and boiled cabbage on the stove-top. It was a moist, buttery smell
that brought an instant arousal to his famished stomach. It felt so
good to be home. The door had squeaked on its hinges from the day
they moved in. It still did, and he just couldn’t seem to get
around to oiling them.
    “ Daddy, daddy, daddy!”
Maelys came running from the other end of the hall as he
entered.
    What a day.
    “ Nichol. Come and pry your
daughter off me.” He chuckled as she came out of the kitchen,
wiping her hands on an apron stained with flour and red juices,
hopefully from some kind of pie.
    It was a joke just between the two of
them.
    “ That, my fine fellow, is
not my daughter. She is obviously yours.” She smiled and pulled
Maelys off her father. “Let him get his jacket off first, and then
you can have him all to yourself.”
    They had a quick kiss for each other,
and then he stripped off the jacket and ran his hand