'So we were surprised, in the grossest way imaginable. His wife came in, stared, and walked out again. She was a kind, but fairly stupid woman, given to generosity to orphans, but incapable of understanding adults, or herself. I do not think it ever crossed her mind that her preoccupation with charities and lunches might have left a hole in her husband's life which he would seek to fill elsewhere. A more sophisticated woman would have had a blazing row and let the matter drop. She would not. She wished to separate, and then I learned that this, for Dr Stauffer, would be cataclysmic. He had no money of his own; the family fortune was hers, and she intended to make him realise it. I do not know the details; I was, naturally, packing my things. Dr Stauffer dismissed me within seconds of his wife leaving the room; before I had even managed to pull my dress down. He was going to throw all the blame on me. Wiles of a temptress. Well, of course he was; I couldn't blame him.
'But it didn't work; I only gathered approximately what had happened, but I think she was not prepared to take his excuses. She was stupid, but not that stupid. That was all I knew; what happened then was not my concern any more. I had to leave, and leave quickly. It was obvious that I would never get another position in Lausanne. So I left the city, and left Switzerland.'
'You did not murder Madame Stauffer?'
'How do you know about that?'
She had not mentioned it; Jules had discovered it. She was suspicious now and on the brink of closing up on me.
'How do you know about that?'
'It was not hard,' I said. 'And it does not matter. You must tell me everything. Good, bad and shameful. It is not as if I am in a position to judge.'
She looked coolly at me for a few more seconds, then relaxed. 'I suppose you're not,' she said quietly. 'Very well. To answer your question, no. I would never have done that. She had been good to me. I meant her no harm at all. Do you believe me?'
I shrugged.
'Listen to the rest of my story and decide. It seems I am to lay myself bare to you, so you might as well know everything.'
'Very well.'
'I was penniless and without even a name; I heard about the death of Madame Stauffer and that I was being blamed. I could not call myself Elizabeth Lemercier any more. Fortunately, girls like I was then are two a penny. No one cares who they are, or what they are called. We can do without papers, or anything. So I chose a new name for myself: Virginie, as I had read my Rousseau and still dreamed of finding my Paul. There was only myself in the world to rely on. I crossed into France and the rest, I suppose, you can guess. I had tasted enough comfort not to want to become a servant once more, but I had few abilities, and little to recommend me. Except that I knew how to attract men. I realised quite how easy in Lyon when I was walking down the street, and this man started looking at me. I ended up in a brothel, where I stayed for about six months before I had to move on.
'I was discovered. It was simple enough. Wichmann found me; I do not think he was looking, but he was the sort who would visit brothels whenever he travelled, and he travelled to Lyon. When he saw me, and recognised me, he also saw an opportunity. He said I would have to do exactly as he wanted, otherwise he would go to the police. Do you think that is enough to make me panic? It was not. By then there was nothing anyone might have asked me to do that I would not have managed, however much it might make ordinary people blanch. I would quite easily have complied with his wishes, had I had some assurance that he would keep his word. But I knew he would not. He was one of the very few people who knew me from Lausanne, and he would never let me go.'
'So you killed him.'
She nodded. 'I did. Cold-bloodedly, and deliberately. I stabbed him in the heart, and sat and watched him die. Are you horrified?'
I thought, then, of Simon. 'I don't know,' I said quietly.
'I changed my clothes, packed my bag and left, locking the door behind me. By the time he was discovered I was well away from Lyon, I had cut my hair, changed the way I dressed. I changed my name, but kept Virginie. I liked it; it was my secret name, the one I had given myself.'
'And Madame Stauffer?'
'I do not know. I imagine it was her husband; Wichmann all but admitted that he was still blackmailing him, but as his dalliance with me was known by that stage, there must have been something else, something serious, that he could hold over him.'
'Would a man murder his wife over such a thing?'
'If the wife threatens separation and is the one who has brought the fortune to the marriage? Dr Stauffer lived well and worked little. Many people have killed for less. Not that it matters, I think. As I freely confess to one murder, there would be no reason not to confess to another, had I committed it. I did not.'
'The police did not look for you?'
'Yes, but not very hard. A foreigner found dead in a brothel is not going to be a matter of the greatest importance for them. And it is easy to escape the attention of the police, if you know how.'
'Tell me.'
'Firstly, do not draw attention to yourself. Change the way you dress and look and behave. It is easy to become a different person entirely, if you wish. I was very upset when you recognised me in Biarritz, you know. You are the only person to have done so. I even met General Mercier at a ball, a few months back. Even though he knew every part of my body intimately, he did not for a moment make any connection between me and the woman he knew in Nancy. How did you recognise me?'
I thought back to the moment. 'I don't know, exactly. Certainly there is nothing physical that recalls what you were. All your mannerisms are now those of a Countess, your voice is different, the way of walking and moving; it has all changed. I didn't recognise you at first, that I know. What can I say? I merely knew. But not so certainly that I dared introduce myself in anything but the most ambiguous fashion, in case I was wrong. It says little for your former lovers that they do not recognise you.'
'That is because they were never interested in me, only in themselves. When they were with me, they thought how splendid they were to have such a beautiful woman as their companion. When they made love to me, they were aware only of what wonderful lovers they were. And, believe me, I made sure they felt that.'
'All part of the service?'
She nodded. 'Then and now.'
I glanced down to examine my fingernails, so I did not have to look at her. 'Why do you tell me this?'
'You asked. Besides, I need your help. That does not come for nothing.'
I frowned. 'Not everything has a price, you know.'
'There are few things which do not in this life.'
'A depressing way of looking at things.'
'No. It is liberating, once you get used to it. And it shields you from disappointment.'
I let out a huge, involuntary sigh, one of confusion and, almost, despair. She had defeated me. Every time I felt I knew her, the real woman slipped away, and put another phantom in her place. Now, there was this: cynical, cold, murderous. Vulnerable, childlike, innocent. Was this, finally, seeing into the depths of her soul and its real nature?
And then I knew. I glanced up and saw her face; it was a plastic face, an actor's face, able to show any emotion, any trait of character. But she did not see me looking and was not prepared. And I caught a glimpse of something I had seen once before, in a restaurant in Nancy, when I had called her a lady.
'You are lying to me again.'
'I am not. I did not kill Madame Stauffer.'
'I don't mean that. I mean, you are trying to push me away from you, to disgust me, and make me say how monstrous you are. You are trying to prove to yourself that all men are the same in the end. Why? So you can keep on living your life without changing, allowing no one near you?'
Читать дальше