The Ghost Riders of Ordebec (Commissaire Adamsberg) by Fred Vargas Read Free Book Online Page A

Up there, when someone says, “I’ve seen the Furious Army go past”, everyone knows perfectly well what it means. I need to tell you a bit more about the horsemen Lina saw, to explain why she probably doesn’t sleep at night. And if there’s one thing that’s sure, commissaire, it’s that her life in Ordebec will have become very tough. People will certainly be avoiding her like the plague. I think the mother came to talk to you above all to get some protection for her daughter.’
    ‘What did she see?’ asked Zerk, his cigarette hanging unsmoked from his lips.
    ‘Armel, this ancient cavalcade causing havoc in the countryside isdamaged. The horses and their riders have no flesh and many of their limbs are missing. It’s an army of the dead, of the putrefied dead, an army of ghostly riders, wild-eyed and screaming, unable to get to heaven. Imagine that.’
    ‘Yeah, right,’ said Zerk, pouring himself some more wine. ‘Can you excuse me a minute, commandant? It’s ten o’clock, I have to see to the pigeon. Instructions.’
    ‘From whom?’
    ‘Violette Retancourt.’
    ‘Well, you’d better do it then.’
    Zerk set conscientiously to work with the wet crumbs, the water dropper and the bottle of tonic. He was getting used to it now, but when he sat down, he looked anxious.
    ‘He’s no better,’ he said sadly to his father. ‘That horrible kid.’
    ‘I’ll catch him, believe me,’ said Adamsberg serenely.
    ‘Are you really going to investigate some kid who’s been torturing a pigeon?’ asked Danglard, looking mildly surprised.
    ‘Absolutely, Danglard,’ said Adamsberg. ‘Why not?’
    Danglard waited until he had Zerk’s full attention to continue the tale about the ghostly army. He was increasingly struck by the resemblance between this father and son, their expressions were so similar: vague, without sharpness or movement, their eyes shadowy and withdrawn. Except that in Adamsberg’s case there was sometimes a sudden flash of light like the sun illuminating strands of seaweed at low tide.
    ‘The Ghost Riders always carry along some living men or women, who are heard shrieking and lamenting in suffering and flames. They’re the ones the witness recognises. Just as Lina recognised this hunter and the three other individuals. The living people beg some good soul to atone for their terrible sins, so as to save them from torment. That’s what Gauchelin says.’
    ‘Stop, Danglard,’ Adamsberg begged him, ‘that’s enough about Gauchelin, we get the general idea.’
    ‘Well, it was you who asked me in the first place to come over and explain about the army,’ said Danglard in some irritation.
    Adamsberg shrugged. Stories like this sent him to sleep and he would have preferred Danglard to keep it short. But he knew how happy it made his commandant to wallow in the telling, as if swimming in a lake of the finest white wine in the world. Especially when he had the admiring and excited attention of Zerk. Well, at least this excursion had wiped out Danglard’s fit of the sulks, since he seemed much more at ease with life now.
    ‘What Gauchelin actually wrote,’ Danglard went on with a smile, fully aware of Adamsberg’s weariness, ‘was: “Now behold an immense army of men on foot began to pass. They bore on their necks and shoulders cattle, clothing, objects of all kinds and diverse utensils which brigands habitually carry with them .” Great text, isn’t it?’ he said to Adamsberg with a deliberate smile.
    ‘Yeah, great,’ Adamsberg replied without thinking.
    ‘Sobriety and grace, it’s all there. Rather different from Veyrenc’s verses, eh, which are clumping doggerel.’
    ‘Not his fault, you know that. His grandmother knew Racine by heart, and she recited it to him all day, just lines and lines of Racine’s plays. Because she had rescued them from a fire at her school.’
    ‘She would have done better to rescue some books on manners and politeness and then teach her grandson