September 18th 1892: Christine
It was clear that Inspector Claudoir didn't have a wife. If he had had one, he'd have maybe known how to deal with someone else's as well. He'd have tried to persuade me to talk to him after all, possibly using flattery or words of encouragement. Yet since he wasn't married, he didn't seem to have any idea what to do with the hysterical woman in front of him. He was merely staring at me, as if hoping that I'd come to my senses if I was left along for a while.
His colleagues weren't helping him. Paul was still unsuccessfully trying to hide a grin, and by now, Inspector Grenadelle was looking rather amused as well. When he lifted his hand to run it through his hair, I could see a faint glimmer of gold at one of his fingers. So he was married, but seemed to enjoy watching his colleague too much to help him.
My bottom lip was trembling dangerously, and I was afraid I'd have to pretend bursting into tears before I'd get what I wanted, but just as I clapped my hands over my face in an exaggerated gesture of despair, Inspector Claudoir seemed to have made up his mind at last.
"All right, all right," he murmured, giving a deep sigh. "You shall get your husband. Just don't cry. I can't stand women crying."
I took my hands away from my face at once, thinking that if I had had that particular piece of information sooner, I'd have begun my little performance by crying, thus saving us a lot of time.
"Paul," the Inspector went on in a resigned voice. "Go and fetch the Comte. Tell him… tell him his wife needs him desperately."
"Fetch the coachman as well," I added, trying to sound weak and imploring at the same time. I couldn't risk having Gabriel speak to the police alone either. The policemen threw me bewildered glances. I couldn't have explained to them why I needed Gabriel, yet fortunately it didn't seem to be necessary.
"Fetch the coachman as well then," Inspector Claudoir ordered faintly. "Do you want anyone else?"
For a moment, I seriously considered asking for my children, but I dismissed the idea quickly. I did want to see them, but I knew that this was not the right place for them to be at the moment. It would have only made them even more frightened than they probably already were. So I shook my head, and Paul walked away, shaking his head as well. I guessed he was counting his blessings that he wasn't married yet and wondered whether he should ever do so, if that was how women behaved.
I made sure that I looked terrified and dabbed at my eyes every now and then till Raoul and Gabriel arrived.
"Oh Raoul, I was so frightened without you!" I then exclaimed and flung my arms around him.
"What happened to you, Christine?" he asked me in a whisper, sounding truly concerned. "Did those criminals scare you? Or was it… someone else?"
"No," I replied hastily, ignoring the pointed remark about Erik. "No one scared me. The policemen just wanted to question everyone separately, and I couldn't let them to that. What if we all told them a different version of the events? So I pretended to be too frightened to answer questions without you, so that you'd have to come here."
"I have a very intelligent wife," Raoul muttered, his lips brushing my ear. "So… what is our story then?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I was too busy trying to make you come here to think of anything yet. Just make up something nice. And don't mention Erik. He has never been here, do you understand?" He nodded. At least he accepted it without asking questions.
"It's all right," Raoul said soothingly, raising his voice. "It's all right. I'm sorry for leaving you alone. Of course you don't have to talk to the police if you don't want to."
We broke apart, but he wrapped his arm around my waist protectively at once.
"How long have you been questioning her in this state?" he asked, glaring at the policemen. "You should have called for me right away. My poor little wife… how could you have treated her like this?"
As I threw my husband a sideways glance, it occurred to me that I wasn't the only person good at acting in our family.
"But… but you allowed us to talk to her," Inspector Claudoir said in a small voice.
"I would have never suggested it if I had known what a state she was in," Raoul retorted. "Look at her! She's trembling with fear." Actually I was shaking with silent laughter, but I hoped the policemen weren't able to tell the difference. "If it turns out that all this has had negative consequences on her health, I'll hold you responsible for it."
He seemed to be enjoying his role very much, but it was time to stop.
"It's enough," I whispered, shaking my head slightly. Playing the angry husband had been necessary at first, then it had been amusing, but one mustn't exaggerate. Inspector Claudoir looked very miserable, and I felt a pang of guilt. After all, he had done nothing wrong. It wasn't his fault that we had something to hide.
Raoul finished his role with a last glare at the policemen, then his face relaxed into a smile.
"So… you wanted to have some questions answered?" he asked Inspector Claudoir.
"Yes," the man replied quickly, a tentative smile appearing on his face. He apparently was glad that he was no longer being accused of having done something wrong, but he didn't dare trust the temporary peace either. It was amusing to see him address my husband only, as if afraid I might start sobbing at any wrong word. "I'd like to question your wife and you first, then I'll go on with the coachman. Paul, you can continue with the other two, and Inspector Grenadelle can question the suspects."
"The suspects haven't opened their mouths yet," Inspector Grenadelle informed him. "They haven't even told me their names. I'm not sure they understand our language at all."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marielle bite her lip. Of course she'd have been able to tell the policeman the men's names, but she couldn't have done so without appearing highly suspicious as well. So she remained silent.
"Hmm…" Inspector Claudoir made, his face screwed up in concentration. "Bring them to the police station then," he decided. "They probably wouldn't have told anything but lies anyway. You can take a couple of men to help you, and one of the coaches we arrived in. Perhaps they'll be more talkative later."
"But what about this one?" Inspector Grenadelle asked, pointing at Marielle's father. He was just trying to get to his feet, swaying dangerously, looking dazed and confused. "I can't keep an eye on all three of them at the same time."
Just then, two more policemen came towards us.
"The fire is under control, Inspector," one of them said. "The injured people have been moved away from the house, and the doctor is just examining them. There's nothing more for us to do. Can we go back to the station?"
"Yes, but take these suspects with you," Inspector Claudoir told them. "Inspector Grenadelle will accompany you."
The two policemen nodded, although it was clear that they'd have rather gome home unaccompanied. They took over the henchmen, while Inspector Grenadelle seized Marielle's father by the upper arm and all but dragged him along. Marielle looked after them for a long time.
"So…" Inspector Claudoir said when they were gone, rubbing his hands together in a business-like manner. "Can we start now?"
"No," Raoul replied pleasantly. "I've thought about it. You should question all of us at once. Think about how much time it'll save you."
"But that's not the way it is usually done," the Inspector argued. "We have to question each of you on their own, in case there are… erm, inconsistencies."
"Inconsistencies?" Raoul repeated, and I could sense that his role of the angry husband would soon be performed a second time. "Are you implying that my servants, this honest man from the street or even my wife and I could be lying to the police? How dare you say something like that? It's an outrage! What is your name, Inspector? I'll go and have a word with your superiour about your behaviour…"
"No," the Inspector gasped, two nervous spots of red appearing on his cheeks. "Of course I'm not implying anything like that. If you want to be questioned together, I'll… I'll do so." I could see in his eyes that he wanted nothing more than get over with everything quickly and go home.
"Very well," Raoul said, suddenly the friendliest person in Paris again. "What do you want to know?"