The Man with the Lead Stomach Read Free Page A

believe, a case that requires particular tact and lightness of touch,’ Sartine continued. ‘I am, moreover, hostage to the promises I gave to Madame Adélaïde. Does she think this kind of procedure is simple? She knows nothing of the world or of life. She gives herself over to her instinct for kindness. But what relevance have feelings of sorrow and pity for me? Have you nothing to say?’
    ‘First, sir, I would need to have a little more information on the situation.’
    ‘Not so fast, Nicolas. It suits me far better to let you know as little as possible. Otherwise I am only too well aware what theresult will be. Your lively imagination will immediately start to run wild. We’ve seen what happens when I loosen your reins. You take the bit between your teeth and bolt. Suddenly we’re off in all directions, picking up bodies on every street corner. You are shrewd and throw yourself into your work, but if I am not there to put you back on the right track … I want you to retain a completely open mind so that I can benefit from your initial impression. We must not put the hounds off the scent!’
    After two years of working for him, Nicolas was accustomed to Sartine, who could at times be monumentally unfair. Only Monsieur de Saujac, the president of the Parlement of Paris, whose reputation for unfairness was legendary, could have taught him anything on that front. So Nicolas was not taken aback by his comments, which another might have found hurtful. He was well acquainted with the sudden mischievous twinkle in his superior’s eye and the involuntary twitching to the right of his mouth. Monsieur de Sartine did not believe what he was saying: it was just an affectation, his particular way of imposing his will on people. Only the less perspicacious let themselves be taken in, but he treated everyone in the same manner. Inspector Bourdeau, Nicolas’s deputy, claimed that it was his way of manipulating his puppets to check they remained loyal to him and agreed with what he said, however outrageous it might be. What was more surprising was his tendency to prove cantankerous and irascible to those close to him when he had a reputation for being a gentle, secretive and extremely courteous man.
    Monsieur de Sartine’s apparent mood was a cover for his distress and anxiety. What would they find at the end of theirnight ride through Paris? What drama lay ahead of them? The Comtesse de Ruissec had looked so distressed …
    Whatever spectacle fate had reserved for them that evening, the young man vowed not to disappoint his superior and to take careful note of everything. Monsieur de Sartine was once more locked away in a gloomy silence. The effort at concentration that showed on his face further emphasised the lines in his angular features, which had lost all their youthfulness.
     
    They stopped outside the half-moon gateway of a small mansion. A large stone staircase opened on to a cobbled courtyard. Monsieur de Ruissec entrusted his distraught wife to a chambermaid . The comtesse protested and tried to hang on to her husband’s arm but he freed himself firmly from her grasp. This scene was played out by the light of a candelabrum held by an elderly retainer, but Nicolas was unable to work out the layout of the broader premises, which were still cloaked in darkness. He could barely even make out the wings of the main building.
    They climbed the steps leading into a flagstoned entrance hall with a staircase at the far end. The Comte de Ruissec staggered and had to lean against an upholstered armchair. Nicolas studied him. He was a tall, wiry man, somewhat stooped, despite his concerted efforts to stand straight. A broad scar, now red from emotion, ran across his left temple, probably the mark of a sabre. He was biting his inner lip, his mouth pursed. The austerity of his severe dark coat further emphasised by the cross of the Order of St Michael hanging from a black ribbon, contrasted with a single note of colour, the