The Strange Case of Monsieur Bertin by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child

Author:Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child [Preston, Douglas & Child, Lincoln]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781538717585
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2019-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

“How do you do, young man?”

“Well, very well. And this is my ward, Constance Greene.”

“I am Madame Brissot. Delighted to meet you.”

The old lady paused to examine Constance more closely, her expression becoming curious. But Constance was used to scrutiny by now, and nodded in return.

“Monsieur Bertin was my tutor as a child,” said Pendergast. “Since you are the only other person I saw at his funeral, naturally I wanted to introduce myself to you.”

She looked back at him and pressed his hand. “Gaspard was a dear old friend. He was one of the few left who had the gift.”

“The gift?” Constance asked.

The woman smiled and nodded, without explaining.

“He gave me a gift once,” Pendergast said, smoothly altering the course of conversation. “It was my first pet, a little piebald mouse. I named it Incitatus, after the favorite horse of the emperor Caligula.”

“Is that the one your brother, ah, killed?”

Once again, Pendergast looked surprised. “Did Monsieur Bertin tell you about that?”

“He certainly did. He loved those mice of his. He often spoke of you, Mr. Pendergast, and the time he spent in your family’s house on Dauphine Street.” She tut-tutted. “He could never understand why that mob showed up.”

“Indeed,” murmured Pendergast, now changing the subject in earnest. “Did Monsieur Bertin have any particular enemies?”

Madame Brissot’s gaze sharpened. “Why do you ask?”

“Mere curiosity.”

“Well now, Gaspard was involved in…” Here the old woman moved in and lowered her voice. “In the old ways. The darker arts, so to speak, although of course he was extremely discreet.”

“Naturally,” Pendergast said.

Madame Brissot’s gaze relaxed. “That’s why no one showed up at the funeral. At least publicly, so as not to be marked as a…follower of the John the Conqueror root. I know you understand.”

Pendergast nodded.

“His clientele came from old New Orleans society, as did he. Publicly, they scoff at the old ways. But when they got into a real fix, or their luck took a bad turn, or somebody wished them ill, they knew they could count on his talents—and his silence. But he gave all that up years ago.” She paused, as if struck by a new thought. “If you’re wondering if his death was caused by something unnatural…” She paused at the word. “I shouldn’t think so. Who would wish harm on an eighty-one-year-old recluse?”

“He was ailing at the end, I understand.”

“It was a steady decline. He had a bad heart.”

“He spoke to you of that?”

“Yes. He said he sometimes took those gunpowder pills for it.”

“You mean nitroglycerin?”

“I knew it was something explosive.”

“Of course.” Pendergast took her hand and bowed again. “It was delightful to meet a friend of Bertin’s, especially someone with the courage to show up at his funeral.”

“At my age, I’ve got nothing to lose but my eternal soul.”

“Can we bring our car around for you, Madame?” Pendergast asked. “It’s still some ways to the parking lot.”

“Oh, no. I adore walking. It is what has kept me alive these past ninety-nine years. Surely you would understand, my dear?” And she fixed Constance with a most unsettling expression.

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.