Читать книгу The Predator of Batignolles: 5th Victor Legris Mystery - Claude Izner - Страница 18

Tuesday 4 July

FRÉDÉRIC Daglan was peeling potatoes. The weather was mild and he felt safe in the middle of the overgrown garden with its riot of viburnum, bindweed and elderberry bushes threatening to invade the vegetable patch. Mother Chickweed lived at the foot of the fortifications, which had been built in order to protect Paris but had failed dismally to do so.13

Two weeks earlier, when Frédéric Daglan had come to her, she had asked no questions. Anchise had sent him and that was recommendation enough; he could stay here and sleep in the shed, preparing the meals when she was out.

Mother Chickweed was about forty years old and fiercely independent. She had left her drunkard husband and found a way of making a living all year round.

She trudged the streets with her basket of wild grass flecked with white flowers, crying out, ‘Chickweed for your songbirds!’

The concierges, housewives and people working from home looked out for her every day. For the songbirds would soon stop chirping and tweeting if they didn’t have their chickweed. These tiny creatures hanging from the window jambs in cages were a symbol of happiness for the poor. They would always find a sou to buy chickweed even when times were hard.

By late spring, the herb was getting scarce, its season over, but Mother Chickweed continued to provide plantain spears and fresh millet for the local songbirds.

Frédéric Daglan gathered up the potato peelings in some old newspaper and was about to take them over to the rabbits when an article at the bottom of the page caught his eye. His face tensed. He checked the date on the newspaper: 22 June 1893.

MURDER ON RUE CHEVREUL

A man was stabbed to death yesterday at seven o’clock in the morning, on Rue Chevreul. The victim was an enamellist by the name of Léopold Grandjean. The police are questioning a witness …

‘Damn it!’ he cursed under his breath.