Strangled in Paris: 6th Victor Legris Mystery. Claude Izner

of a smile playing on his lips. His gaze passed from Victor to his son-in-law and then back to Victor again.

      ‘You flatter me,’ he said ‘I’m not as knowledgeable as all that. Unicorns … unicorns … Some say that it’s nothing more than an idealised or sublimated version of a rhinoceros or a narwhal. I’ve seen some … Let me think … It was in an illuminated bible … Ah yes! The Petrus Comestor Bible.16 A very rare book, a real gem, printed in 1499.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He depicts the unicorn between Adam and Eve, under the tree of knowledge. It’s the same theme as the tapestries in the Musée de Cluny.’17

      ‘Is that all?’

      ‘If I remember rightly, alchemists associate this mythical animal with sulphur and mercury. Does that satisfy your curiosity? On that note, good night. I’ve been working on a new combat technique with a friend just back from Japan and I’m worn out.’

      ‘Aren’t you a bit old for that sort of thing?’

      ‘You must be joking! There’s nothing old about me!’ retorted Kenji, bounding towards the staircase.

      Joseph waited until his brother-in-law had left the room before locking up the shop. As Victor, pushing his bicycle, was about to leave, Joseph barred his way.

      ‘Boss – I mean, Monsieur Legris – I overheard your conversation. There are two places in Paris where you could find more detailed information about unicorns: the Supernatural Bookshop, run by Monsieur Chamuel, on Rue de Trévise, and the Independent Art Bookshop on Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin.’

      ‘Thank you, Joseph. Just a moment.’

      Victor handed his steed to Joseph, emptied his pockets onto the counter and took down the addresses in his notebook.

      ‘Why are you interested in this horned creature?’

      ‘No real reason, just a funny dream I had. Good night, Joseph. See you tomorrow.’

      ‘Look how fast he skedaddles on that thing! He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t come a cropper one of these days. I’m sure he’s hiding something from me. I could swear it,’ muttered Joseph, walking back towards the counter.

      Victor had left his pen and a folded piece of paper near the telephone. Intrigued, Joseph saw that it was a page torn from L’Intransigeant.

      ‘Hmm, he reads that now, does he? What’s this all about?’

      He noticed that one article in the ‘news in brief’ section had been circled in red.

      ‘Gosh!’

      This morning at dawn, two police officers on their beat around the La Villette area discovered the lifeless body of a young woman of about twenty-five, elegantly dressed and wearing a black eye mask. She was lying, strangled, near the rotunda, not far from the canal. She has not yet been identified. Alfred Gamache, the watchman at the tollgate, was questioned by the police but said that he had not seen anything. The body was taken to the morgue.

      A few names had been scribbled in the margin; Joseph recognised Victor’s handwriting.

       Maurice Laumier. Mireille Lestocart. Louise Fontane, her cousin, blonde hair dyed black. Alfred Gamache. Martin Lorson at the abattoirs or at the Érard piano factory.

      I bet the sly old dog’s started on a new investigation! This time, he’s going to collaborate with me whether he likes it or not, right from the beginning! I’m sick of always being ten steps behind him.

      He checked the date on the newspaper: Saturday 10 February 1894. The scent was still fresh! Feeling buoyed up, he went upstairs and into the kitchen. Sitting opposite each other at the table, Iris and Kenji were nibbling at a dandelion salad. He kissed his wife chastely on the forehead.

      ‘You should go to bed, my sweet. I’ll do the washing up and then I’ll come and join you.’