Читать книгу The Predator of Batignolles: 5th Victor Legris Mystery - Claude Izner - Страница 13

A builder with face and hair covered in plaster dust was passing the stables owned by the Debrise Brothers, a stone’s throw from Église Saint-Denis-de-la-Chapelle. He stopped outside a bar and washed his hands at a pump where carters filled pails for watering their horses. The air smelt of fresh cheese and milk. The builder pulled down his cap, crossed the roundabout near the coal yard and walked down Rue Jean-Cottin, with its hotchpotch of buildings.

The builder passed a boy bouncing a ball against a fence. The boy gave him a knowing look and began chanting:

‘General Kléber,

At the gates of Hell

Met a Prussian

Who wished him well.’

The builder gave a faint nod, and entered the courtyard of a run-down building. Slowly, he climbed the stairs up several floors. On reaching the third floor, he took a pick from his pocket, slipped it into a keyhole without touching the escutcheon, found the latch and carefully lifted it.

The first room was cluttered, with a mirrored wardrobe, a table, a glass-fronted bookcase, four chairs and a stove.

The builder removed his shoes and began a meticulous search. The wardrobe contained only two jackets, a waistcoat, three pairs of trousers and two sets of bed linen. In the bedroom were an unmade bed, a pile of dirty laundry and a slop bucket. He lifted the mattress quickly. The tension in his face eased as his eye alighted on a brown briefcase in the middle of the bed base. He pulled a bundle of documents out of it and studied them closely. He froze in amazement.

‘Good God! The dirty …!’

His throat tightened; he could scarcely breathe. He tried to stifle his mounting rage. Stay calm, he told himself.

Outside the boy squawked:

‘Who left the people to rot?

That was Riquiqui’s lot.’

The builder drew back the curtain. Two women stood chattering in the courtyard.

He put everything back in its place and, checking that he’d left no traces, picked up his shoes and went out. After clicking the latch behind him, he started back down the stairs.

At the bottom, Frédéric Daglan tied his shoelaces, his hands shaking.