Vertigo Read Free Page A

detective. In the police you have to go right through the mill even if you have a degree. I never liked the job. If my father hadn’t pushed me into it… But he was a divisional inspector and for him it was the one and only career. I ought to have refused. It’s all wrong to force a boy… but there’s no use going into that now… To come to the point, I had to arrest a chap. He wasn’t a very dangerous one, only he took it into his head to take refuge on the roof… I had a man called Leriche with me—as nice a fellow as you could meet…’
    He emptied his glass. Tears scalded his eyes. He coughed and shrugged his shoulders, trying to recover his poise.
    ‘You see. As soon as this story crops up my feet slip off the pedals,’ he said in an attempt to laugh it off. ‘The roof was a sloping one. I could hear the traffic a long way below in the street. The chap was behind a chimney. He was unarmed. It was just a matter of collaring him. I couldn’t do it.’
    ‘I remember now,’ said Gévigne, ‘you never had a head for heights.’
    ‘Leriche went in my place. He slipped and fell.’
    ‘Ah!’
    Gévigne looked discreetly at the carpet. Flavières studied his face without being able to read his thoughts.
    ‘It’s best you should know—’
    ‘Anyone’s nerve can give way,’ said Gévigne.
    ‘I know it can,’ answered Flavières with something like a snarl.
    Nothing was said for a moment. Then Gévigne raised his hands in a vague gesture.
    ‘Most unfortunate. But you can’t hold yourself responsible because your friend’s foot slipped.’
    Flavières opened a box of cigarettes.
    ‘Have a fag, old man.’
    He always encountered the same bewildered incredulity when he told his story. No one ever took it seriously. How could he ever make them hear Leriche’s scream, which went on and on, passing from a shrill note to a lower one with the distance? Perhaps Gévigne’s wife too was burdened by some gnawing secret, but it couldn’t be half as hideous a one as his. Were her dreams torn by a scream like that? Had she allowed someone to die in her place?
    Gévigne interrupted this reverie.
    ‘Can I count on you then?’
    ‘What do you want me to do?’
    ‘Have a look at her. Above all I want your opinion. It’s already done me a lot of good to talk to you about it. You will help me, won’t you?’
    ‘If it is a help.’
    ‘You’ve no idea how much… Are you free this evening?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘A pity. I’d have asked you home to dinner. It’ll have to be another day.’
    ‘No. Better she shouldn’t know me. It’ll make things easier.’
    ‘Perhaps you’re right. But I’ve got to show her to you somehow.’
    ‘Go to the theatre together. I can have a good look at her without her noticing.’
    ‘Good idea. We’re going to the Marigny tomorrow. We’ve got a box.’
    ‘Right. I’ll be there.’
    Gévigne took both Flavières’ hands in his.
    ‘Thanks, Roger… You see how right I was to come to you. You know a trick or two. I shouldn’t have thought of the theatre.’
    He fumbled in his inside pocket, hesitated.
    ‘Don’t be offended… We’ve still got the dibs to consider… You’re doing me a great favour…’
    ‘Oh,’ said Flavières, ‘never mind about that now.’
    ‘All the same—’
    Flavières patted him on the back.
    ‘It’s the case I’m interested in, not the money. I’ve already the feeling your wife and I have something in common, and…yes… there’s a chance I may be able to find out what she’s hiding.’
    ‘I assure you she’s not hiding anything.’
    ‘We’ll see.’
    Gévigne picked up his grey felt hat and his gloves.
    ‘Business good?’
    ‘Pretty good. I can’t complain.’
    ‘You know, if I can be useful to you in any way, you’ve only to say the word. I’d be only too glad. I’m in touch with some pretty influential people, particularly with this war contract…’
    ‘Profiteer,’ thought Flavières.
    The word flashed involuntarily