Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

Or, the next one:

‘Un serpent d’Amérique du Sud? Pourquoi d’Amérique du Sud? Ma cousine Monique a utilisé un serpent local lorsque son mari était grossier, et cela a bien fonctionné pour elle, à en juger par la taille de son pied. Comment oses-tu suggérer que je serais antipatriotique au point d’utiliser un serpent étranger? Vive la France et notre roi Louis Philippe!’

‘A snake from South America?’ Claudette translated. ‘Why from South America? My cousin Monique used a local snake when her husband was being rough, and it worked perfectly fine for her, to judge by the size his foot swelled to. How dare you suggest I’d be so unpatriotic as to use a foreign snake? Long live France and our king Louis Philippe!’

And finally, my favourite:

‘Mettre un serpent dans le vestiaire de la prima donna? Je ne ferais jamais une telle chose! Non, ce que je voudrais lui faire c’est coller une carotte sur sa tête, la peindre en argent et lui faire jouer une licorne sur scène devant tout le monde.’

‘Put a snake in the prima donna’s dressing room? I would never do such a thing! No, what I would like to do is glue a carrot to her head, paint her silver and make her play a unicorn on stage in front of everyo…really?’ Breaking off, Claudette turned to the vindictively grinning, middle-aged janitor that sat facing us. ‘Sat’s the best you can sink of, Francois? You need to sink of somesin’ a lot better if you want to get back at me because of the incident with se brooms, mon ami!’

At the end of a very long morning, I sagged back in my chair and stared at Claudette.

‘Does anyone in this place not want to see you dead?’

‘The mice under the floor?’ she suggested, as if she wasn’t entirely sure about them.

‘I don’t quite understand. How have you managed to get this many enemies? Do you have some nefarious alter ego that I have yet to meet?’

The prima donna gave a soft laugh, and looked at me with a mixture of pity and fondness. ‘Oh, my dear Monsieur Linton, you don’t actually sink sat sis has anythin’ to do with ‘ow I behave or w’o I am inside, do you?’

‘It doesn’t?’

‘Of course not! I am se prima donna! Everybody wants me out of se way. Sey want my job, or sey want revenge for my taking se job

from them, or from their mother, cousin, daughter, grand-niece twice removed…you take your pick.’

‘Then how are you still walking and breathing?’

‘Se bon Dieu likes me,’ she said with a cheeky grin—which slowly disappeared from her face. ‘Or at least I thought so until yesterday.’

‘So…if everyone here wants you gone, how are we supposed to find out who put that snake in your room?’

Claudette shrugged, as if it were a matter which could still be solved tomorrow if we didn’t get to it today. But spending a lot of time in the company of Rikkard Ambrose had given me an eye for looking beneath the surface. I could see the little twitches in her face that betrayed her hidden emotions. And among those emotions, one rose high above the others: fear.

Reaching out, I squeezed her hand.

‘We’re going to get them. Whoever they are, we’re going to get them.’

She gave me a weak smile.

‘Thank you, Monsieur Linton. You are a good man.’

Why did people keep telling me that? It always made me want to answer ‘Not according to my crinkum-crankum[22].’

‘Let’s see…’ I bit my lower lip and concentrated, trying to see our problem from all angles. ‘We can’t discover who has a motive, because practically everybody does. What else is there? Hm…We could gather the entire choir and…no, that won’t work. We could get the music director in one room with a gorilla, an axe and…no, that won’t work either. We could…yes! Yes, that’s it!’

I snapped my fingers. Sitting up straight, I grinned at Claudette.

‘I know how we can find out the truth. Go and get Mr Ambrose! I’ve got a task for him.’

Claudette blinked. ‘You ‘ave a task for ‘im?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you want me to… fetch ‘im?’

‘Yes.’