The Montmartre Investigation by Claude Izner Read Free Book Online Page B

think Monsieur Mori…? I mean he’s often been to London.’
    â€˜Don’t talk such rubbish. Go and serve that lady. I’ll be back shortly,’ Victor said, pocketing the shoe.
    â€˜Morbid interest, eh! People should practice what they preach,’ Joseph muttered, making his way over to the customer.
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    The cab dropped Victor in Rue de la République. He walked away from the Bastille-La Varenne railway line, the recent site of an appalling accident, and past the Saint-Mandé town hall. The rhythmic tapping of his cane on the pavement punctuated his thoughts.
    This really is the limit! There’s no earthly reason for poking my nose into Kenji’s affairs. Naturally, anything that affects him concerns me, and I do find his peculiar behaviour worrying, but anxiety does not justify indiscretion. Admit it, Victor, you’ve once again fallen prey to your fondness for mysteries!
    As he strolled past the fine villas, whose gardens stood in a row overlooking the lake and the Bois de Vincennes, he had a sudden urge to bring Tasha to this place. He recalled a line from a poem by Victor Hugo:
    Connaître un pas qu’on aime et que jaloux on suit…
    Did not the remains of the poet’s great love, Juliette Drouet, lie in the Saint-Mandé graveyard?
    He read the brass plate on the railings of number 15:
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    C. BONTEMPS BOARDING SCHOOL
    Private Establishment for Young Ladies
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    â€˜This is a strange place to keep a mistress,’ he muttered.
    A plump, moon-faced woman of about forty greeted him. She was dressed in the style of the Empress Eugenie and wore her hair parted in the middle and drawn into a bun.
    â€˜My respects, Madame; I am here on behalf of Monsieur Mori, my business associate.’
    â€˜Oh! Are you a bookseller too? What an honour. Please come in. Dear Monsieur Mori! He seemed so upset yesterday. Mademoiselle Iris realised only a few moments after her godfather’s departure that he had left his cane behind. Your visit couldn’t be better timed; you will be able to return the precious object to him.’
    Victor stood in front of a mantelpiece adorned with flounces and porcelain statues, desperately trying to gather his thoughts. Iris! Was he finally to meet the mysterious woman who had aroused his curiosity these past two years; the woman Kenji visited regularly in London but kept hidden from him? It had been months since Kenji had last ventured across the Channel and Victor had assumed their romance was over. Iris was the very young girl once glimpsed in a photograph taken at the Universal Exhibition, but whose face he simply could not remember.
    Her godfather my eye! So this is where he keeps her locked up! Victor thought to himself.
    â€˜Please take a seat,’ said Mademoiselle Bontemps, pointing to an ottoman. Monsieur…’
    â€˜Legris. I should like to speak to Mademoiselle Iris. Here is my card.’
    â€˜Oh! Well, I did not wish to appear suspicious, but…’
    â€˜It is only natural.’
    â€˜I am glad to hear you say so. You see I have my instructions. Of course, our boarders are free to walk about town; they watch over one another and report on each others’ deeds and conduct, but as far as conversing with strangers is concerned…Monsieur Mori never mentioned an associate. Have you worked together for long?’
    â€˜I was three years old when my father first employed Monsieur Mori.’
    Mademoiselle Bontemps lifted a plump hand to her mouth to suppress a nervous giggle.
    â€˜Goodness, how extraordinary that he never once mentioned your name!’
    â€˜He is a reserved gentleman.’
    â€˜Such reserve is comparable with deceit! That said; judge not that you be not judged. Would you care for a macaroon?’
    She held out a plate to him, which he declined with a smile. She helped herself generously before going to find Iris.
    Victor was astonished to see a young girl, not more than