Эдвард Хох - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 130, No. 1. Whole No. 791, July 2007

12:00 noon

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow as she heard the program begin. “With us today are Yasmine Azoul and Antoine Dufour. Yasmine Azoul is the author of the novel Skin Deep, published by Dufour-Planchon.”

The audience welcomed the guests with applause.

Solange Dumas's familiar voice continued vivaciously. “Two Muslim women, one veiled, the other not, exchange lives for a day. The reader follows the adventures and the reflections of the two protagonists. The novel is largely inspired by a real-life experiment conducted by Yasmine Azoul and her co-author Hinda Wafi, who has chosen not to join us today. Let’s start with you, Yasmine. How did this idea first come to you?”

“In a writer’s workshop!” Yasmine answered. “I’d seen Hinda there regularly and took to her very quickly. We shared the same religious beliefs, but our views were different when it came to wearing the veil. Suddenly it occurred to us, why not try switching skins for a day?”

“You were born in Algeria and Hinda in France?”

“That’s right. She wears the veil and I don’t. My real reason for coming to France was to experience equality of the sexes. At the university in Algiers, girls have to fight to exist without the Islamic veil. Before meeting Hinda, I used to berate Muslim women who wanted to wear the veil when they’d grown up in France. I thought it was just a fad.”

“And today?”

“Writing this novel, I learned that whether you’re veiled or not, it’s no use feeling victimized by your own history. Or guilty about it. Wearing the veil is natural for Hinda. And she doesn’t see herself as a scapegoat for her religion. The role of a writer is to be an impartial witness. I think there’s great value in finding words to explain the way other people feel. Hinda and I have refused to confine ourselves to a simple definition of a complex reality. In our book, the two women attempt to break down any preconceived ideas the other may have had.”

The presenter turned to Antoine. “Antoine Dufour, you have exposed yourself to the wrath of extremists. Does the publication of this novel have anything to do with activist literature?”

“The idea never crossed my mind until I was threatened. Let’s just say the book’s publication has bothered a few narrow-minded cranks. I would never have become a publisher, you know, if I hadn’t read Sartre. The most important word in existentialism is probably the word ‘choice.’ For me, the publication of certain books constitutes a personal commitment to the search for truth. I made the decision to publish Skin Deep; now I must bear the consequences. Yasmine and Hinda have truly captured their times in this novel. I was taken in right from the very first page of the manuscript.”

Questions shot from Solange Dumas's mouth in rapid fire. “Audacity? Or just a commercial ploy? In a recent article Clémence Boulouque wrote: ‘So many things are being published on Islam, good and bad. Are publishers putting a match to the fuse?’”

Solange Dumas asked these questions point blank and Antoine responded in a voice taut as a bowstring. “Let’s not get everything mixed up.”

Then his voice softened. “Why publish this book now? Because in France, by tradition people mostly only talk about literature in the fall. And believe me, this is something I deplore! Literature is the great encyclopedia of social reality. It expresses the nature and fabric of a society. This is especially true of the novel, where we’re free to escape from our taboos. Literature has an essential role to play. It helps us anticipate the stream of continual change that is life.”

The audience applauded vigorously.

“It gives independent voices a chance to express themselves, so they can help resolve pernicious misunderstandings,” Yasmine added.

Antoine went on, “And that’s why, in spite of the pitfalls, literary publishing is indestructible. Utopian? Passionate? I’m a bit of both, I guess!”

Solange Dumas turned back to Yasmine. “What do you remember most about your day in the skin of a veiled woman?”

“The heat. It’s hot under that veil. And the people staring at me.”

“And Hinda’s day without a veil?”

“She felt it was like...” Yasmine had trouble finding the words. “...taking off her clothes. The Egyptian novelist Ahdaf Soueif, who doesn’t wear a veil, has quite rightly written: ‘The veil, like Islam itself, is at the same time sensual and puritan, it is contradictory and formidable.’ Hinda and I both aspire to a peaceful form of Islam. Hinda hides her hair under a piece of cloth and me, I keep my head bare, but this doesn’t prevent us from exchanging our ideas, our reflections. Writing this novel with Hinda did me a lot of good!”

“Do you think this book might help cool debate around the veil?”

“I hope it will help focus some other people’s minds on public-spiritedness and modernity,” Antoine offered. “In closing, I’d like to quote Aragon, if I may: ‘Literature is the art of saying things that are forbidden using words that are not.’”

Solange Dumas thanked Antoine and Yasmine and then repeated one last time for the listeners, “Skin Deep, published by Dufour-Planchon.”

12:30 P.M.

As Dumas uttered her final words, Gabrielle flicked off the radio. She felt overwhelmed by the anger that now colored her face. She had been gone for three days. Antoine must certainly have moved in with Yasmine by now (or the other way around). To protect her! She decided she had to know. In her agitation, she opened the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of beer, and poured herself a generous glassful.

“Mommy!” Maeva’s young voice made Gabrielle jump, beer spilling onto her bandage from the glass she held in her trembling hands.

“Yes, darling?”

Maeva was coming down the stairs. “I’m hungry. What’s for lunch?”

“Macaroni and cheese?”

Gabrielle unwrapped the bandage on her right hand, revealing an ugly burn—still painful—as Maeva appeared in the doorway.

“My tummy approves of the menu. On one condition!”

Maeva gave a mischievous little smile to which Gabrielle responded, “More cheese than macaroni! And what about you setting the table?”

“Right away.” Maeva hesitated an instant, then said, “Mommy, you said we were just at Grandma and Grandpa’s to look after their house while they’re away. But I can tell things are different between you and Daddy. I miss him.”

Gabrielle did not answer.

1:00 P.M.

Antoine and Yasmine left the studio feeling quite satisfied with their performance.

“We did a pretty good job defending our book, didn’t we? What do you think, Yasmine?”

“You were right. Never let fear determine your actions.”

“You learn fast. You also look dead tired.”

“I am! I think I need a nap,” Yasmine admitted as she hailed a taxi.

“Shall I see you home?”

“No, thanks. Don’t worry, my mother’s moved in for a few days.”

Before closing the taxi door behind her, Antoine bent down and said, “I’ll give you a call tonight.”

7:00 P.M.

Savoring a cup of jasmine tea with shortbread, Yasmine’s mother sat absorbed in the paper: “Skin Deep. Indignant reactions from some quarters. Publisher threatened. An author’s life endangered.”

The telephone rang and she picked up the cordless. “Hello?”

It was Antoine Dufour. “How is our heroine of the day faring?”

“Better. She had a long rest and resurfaced about an hour ago. I...”

A noise that sounded like a muffled, strangled cry diverted Madame Azoul’s attention. Was it coming from the garage?