Soma Blues by Robert Sheckley Read Free Book Online

Paris and Ibiza. Fauchon had already questioned Hervé, but Hob was working on Stanley’s case now on behalf of Timothy Bower, and so decided his own interview would be in order. Besides, Fauchon wouldn’t let him see his interview notes.
    Hervé agreed reluctantly to see Hob at his apartment on the rue des Pères, which he shared with several other dancers. Hob went there in the late morning. Hervé was young, very slender, and muscular, his light brown hair modeled into a cut similar to that of Nijinsky in L’Après-midi d’un faune. He wore tight, well-cut blue jeans that showed off the development of his thighs and a light-blue cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up to display his hairless brown arms.
    “I’ve already told Inspector Fauchon everything I know,” Hervé said.
    Hob shook his head. “Permit me to make a correction. You told Fauchon everything you thought was safe to say. You know me, Hervé. I’m not going to tell on you. Stanley was selling drugs, wasn’t he?”
    “Not to me,” Hervé said. “I don’t buy drugs. People give them to me.”
    “I wasn’t accusing you of spending your own money,” Hob said. “But you’ve got a lot of friends who are users.”
    “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Hervé said.
    “Come on, Hervé! You and I have tripped together. At the Johnstone party. You came with Elmyr de Hory, remember?”
    Hervé had been trying to look stern. Now he couldn’t help a smile coming across his chiseled lips. “That was quite a good evening, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, and the California windowpane was pretty good, too. Look, I’m not trying to trap you into anything. I want to know why Stanley got killed. I’m working for his brother. I won’t pass on anything you tell me. So tell me, Hervé.”
    Hervé thought for a few seconds, then decided that Hob was to be trusted.
    “He was selling a new drug. Soma, he said it was called. He was quite excited about it. He said it was expensive but absolutely the best trip going. I gave him a few names. You know Paris people. Interested in the newest novelty.”
    “Did you try any yourself?”
    Hervé shook his head. “Stanley and I were going to take some together. Tonight, as a matter of fact.” His mouth drooped in sorrow.
    “These people he sold it to. Who were they?”
    “Hob, you know very well I’m not going to name any names. Not even for you, my dear. Anyhow, none of them could have been involved in Stanley’s murder. Wealthy Parisians don’t kill their dope dealers. You know that as well as I do.”
    “Can you at least tell me who he saw last?”
    “Oh, Hob, it isn’t going to do you any good. And anyhow, I don’t know.”
    “Come on, Hervé. I need a name. I have to start somewhere. Stanley was staying with you just before he got killed, wasn’t he?”
    “I’ve already admitted that to Fauchon.”
    “So you must know who was the last person he saw.”
    Hervé sighed. “Oh, all right. It was Etienne Vargas, if you must know. You know Etienne, don’t you? The tall, delicious Brazilian boy who came to the island a few months ago?”
    “I don’t know him. Was he going with Stanley?”
    “No way, my dear. Etienne is unfortunately straight. He goes with Annabelle. You know Annabelle, don’t you?”
    “Yes. Slightly. Is she here in Paris?”
    “Not to my knowledge. Etienne apparently came without her.”
    “Where was he staying?”
    “Some hotel, I believe. I don’t know which.”
    “Was he alone or with someone?”
    “I don’t know. He was alone when I saw him. He said he had an appointment with Stanley.”
    “How did he act?”
    Hervé shrugged. “Brazilian. What else?”
    “I mean, was he nervous?”
    “Not that I noticed.”
    “He came here to your apartment?”
    “Yes. Said he was supposed to meet with Stanley. I told him Stanley had gone out. Asked if I could take a message. He said no, he had a date with Stanley later, but since he was in the neighborhood he thought he’d