Tsing-Boum by Nicolas Freeling Read Free Book Online

Our sergeant offered to give her his name – she was born three months after they married.’
    She seemed not to be listening; she had pulled Ruth’s red woolly beret out of the raincoat pocket and was regarding it, twiddling it about in an absent way. ‘Arlette.’
    â€˜What? – sorry.’
    â€˜If Zomerlust is not really keen to concern himself about this child – and I wouldn’t blame him …’
    â€˜Bring her back to me,’ with unexpected vehemence.
    â€˜So you would be in favour – you want me to ask him whether he’d agree?’ But it was cut short by Ruth coming back.
    â€˜Better,’ said Arlette, buttoning her up. ‘Rain won’t get into you.’ She pulled the beret on the child’s hair, laughed suddenly and tweaked it forward on her forehead, tilting it to one side. ‘Now you’re a paratrooper.’ To her consternation Ruth broke into violent sobbing.
    â€˜I was being silly,’ said Arlette, cuddling her. Van der Valk could see the child making efforts to be docile and reasonable, not to throw herself about and howl. Be courageous before strangers.
    â€˜I know,’ hiccuping and snuffling. ‘You were making a joke.’
    â€˜Silly joke.’
    â€˜Mamma used to do the same.’ Van der Valk took her hand. Sure enough, she had a metal badge on the beret, military insignia, something of Zomerlust’s.
    â€˜Come on, we have to go to the hospital and see what these doctors are getting up to.’ He had a car waiting.
    â€˜Will Mamma be long in the hospital?’ Ruth had been silent for some time, staring out of the window – rush hour, and they were held up at all the traffic lights.
    â€˜It wouldn’t surprise me. She was badly hurt. We’d better be prepared to be told she’s pretty ill.’ He had stage-managed a little scene at the hospital, asking them to put Esther’s body in a bed in a private room. He was wondering why Ruth had never asked what it was exactly that had happened. Did the child know? Or had she decided she didn’t want to know?
    â€˜Wait here a moment, Ruth, while I ask which way we have to go … Commissaire Van der Valk. I have the child here; I have to break it to her. Where have you got the woman who was brought in yesterday?’
    The woman leaned over with odious complicity to whisper: ‘You understand, Commissaire – it’s in the paper – we didn’t want people asking questions. Corridor B, and you go right along and turn to the left, and it’s IIA. I’ll ring up and tell Sister you’re coming.’
    â€˜Has the autopsy report been sent me?’
    â€˜I’m afraid I couldn’t say.’
    He walked heavily back to where the child – how good she was – sat waiting. His leather raincoat squeaked as he sat down heavily beside her. Nobody else around, God be thanked.
    â€˜The news is bad, Ruth, I’m afraid. She was too badly hurt. But she didn’t have any pain.’ The child looked at him with a face that told him nothing.
    â€˜I knew.’
    â€˜Ah.’
    â€˜She was shot. Like on the television.’
    â€˜People do get shot. Not as often as on the television, perhaps.’
    â€˜Mevrouw Paap said such silly things. She thought she was hiding a secret, and all the time she was giving it away.’ Vander Valk knew that this calm would not last. Luckily a child had very little idea about ‘being shot’. Thanks to the television! One fell down – it was probably a lot better than ‘being ill’. So quick, so clean an ending, in a child’s eye.
    â€˜Now I’ve no one.’
    â€˜Yes, you have. One always has. You don’t know the story of Cosette and Monsieur Madeleine?’ said Van der Valk, realizing with a lucky stroke of humour that Colonel Stok had turned into Jean Valjean.
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Cosette was a little girl who had