The Driver by Steve Bartholomew

Author:Steve Bartholomew [Bartholomew, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Gopher Books
Published: 2019-04-25T00:00:00+00:00

The sign above the door read DOUVET BOOKS. Below was a smaller sign that Georg couldn’t read. He expected a small, dusty place crammed with old volumes. Instead he found large clean windows in front. From outside he could make out several customers browsing, both men and women. As he opened the door and entered, a small silver bell gave a bright tinkle. A young lady shopkeeper emerged from behind a bookshelf. Georg noticed there were a lot of other items besides books, small figurines, paintings, odd looking Oriental tools and weapons. A curiosity shop.

“May I help, sir?” The young woman smiled, but he noticed a skeptical glance at his poor clothing. She had a distinctly French Accent. Georg’s first impression was of some delicate European ceramic. Then at a second look, he saw a hidden and durable strength.

“I wish to speak to Monsieur Douvet.”

“I am his daughter, Rocelyn Douvet. My pere is busy in his office. May I assist you instead?”

He gave her a friendly smile. “I wish to speak to your father because I hope he can give me advice about a certain legal matter. Should I make an appointment for later?”

She hesitated, then gave a quick shrug. “I shall see if he is free for a moment. May I give him your name?”

He gave her his real name, which got no reaction. Probably she did not bother with the English language newspapers. She turned and went to the back. A door softly opened and closed. She was gone two or three minutes before returning.

“Mon pere will see you, m’sieur. But he can spare only a short time. Please go back.”

Georg went behind a tall stack of books and other artifacts, to a narrow door which was open. The further he penetrated into this shop the mustier it smelled. In one corner stood an Egyptian mummy.

He stepped into a room dimly lit by a small window and three hanging lanterns. Gustave rose to greet him, offering a bow but no handshake.

Georg had a moment of shock. The shock was of recognition. He sometimes took pride in his memory, though usually he saw no great advantage in it. If he wished, he could recall the faces of all the people who rode his streetcar, if he had only glimpsed them. Ever since the murder, he had gone over in his mind the people who had been aboard that day. This face was one of them. He remembered the man boarding, though he could not have said when or where he got off. He knew the names of some others because they were regular passengers. Not this one.

Douvet clearly took great pride in his luxuriant grey beard, trimmed and waxed and descending half way down his chest. He wore his hair long, in genteel curls. His was a hard face to forget. Georg thought of some French aristocrat from before the Revolution.

“How may I help you, m’sieur? Please be seated. Will you take some plum wine?”

“No thank you, sir. I apologize for taking up your time.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.