CHAPTER 49 – DURAND'S MOVE, AND ITS FRIGHTFUL AFTERMATH
Leandre Durand wished he'd spent more time getting to know Vivi Herriott instead of devising ways to be invisible in her presence. Castelneau's secretary, he thought, would be just the person to help him in an investigation of Castelneau – if only he dared consult her. For that matter, she likely knew the late Justin Blondet better than anyone else, and Durand had a growing interest in his late chief.
"Did you wish something, M. Durand?" Vivi asked, when she looked up and noticed the interest in herself.
"I am too afraid of you to ask," he said candidly.
She smiled, ever so slightly. "I'm not so sure it is a good thing for you to be afraid of me," she said.
Durand shrugged. "You and I have outlived nearly everyone else around here, but truly, I don't know how you have done it. I know, to some degree, how I have done it, but much of it has been because I do not generally work under the scrutiny of anyone else. Out of sight, out of mind, you see. I would have been minced meat at a desk job, I suspect."
"It takes all kinds, I guess."
"Perhaps – although I would qualify that, I think. There is a need for all sorts of skills and any number of honest perspectives, but some worldviews and people I can do without, and I do not think it arrogant to think that the world would be better off as well, if there was more emphasis on goodness, and less on diversity for its own sake."
"Oh, absolutely. It is just a saying, but of course you must assume that it means what it means, and not just take it literally."
Durand began to pace. "Oh, I am sorry, Mme Herriott. Truly, but I am not sure I should be here. I have never asked that I be taken off an investigation before, and I am not sure that I should start now. Maybe I am getting old. But truly, I cannot help but think that it would be worse to stay on a case after I have realized that I am spread too thin with higher priorities, and cannot possibly do it justice. But it galls me, all the same, even though I think that I am doing the right thing."
"Actually, I remember at least five times you have asked to be taken off an investigation," Vivi said, with a twinkle in her eye. "But, of course, none of those were because you did not think you could do the case justice. It was more a matter of seeing a better way to go about things that required different men or perhaps called for everyone backing off for a while. In the le Bassett case, if I remember correctly, it was because you had determined that we were after altogether the wrong people. You have been here longer than most, as you said. And in all that time, you have been nearly the only one who has had sense to even consider whether a case is worth pursuing, much less if you are the right man for the job. I shouldn't want this to get about, but most agents assume guilt has been established as soon as they are pointed somewhere, and they cannot see the larger picture. It is difficult to watch sometimes, truly."
"Now I am really afraid of you," Durand said.
"In that case, I will beg a favor. It is not so much, really," Vivi said. "I just wish for you not to tell anyone of this little conversation. It might be misunderstood, you see."
"I see," Durand said. "You have my word it goes no further."
Castelneau came back from lunch just then. "Oh, it's you," he said to Durand. "Is it urgent? I am busy."
"I shall take as little of your time as I can manage," Durand said.
Castelneau hesitated, but feeling his secretary's eyes on him, he motioned Durand into his office.
"It is very simple," Durand said to Castelneau, once they were seated. "As much as I hate to say so, I am finding that I seem to be pulled in too many directions at once. Since I am so involved in the Grellier investigation, and have made good inroads on that – finally! – I assume I should stay on that. There is no one else who has established rapport with the proper people in Welsh law enforcement, if I may say so. And the Coudray matter, well, I hope you have had a chance to read my updates on that. Truly, the Brazilians have been more than helpful, there. I may yet have to fly to Rio, but for now things seem well in hand with Mariamne in charge of Rio aspects. She is showing good sense, our Mariamne. In the Burke cartel matter, well, of course I am but a foot soldier there, but of course Guiscard has told me what he expects of me, and I am having no trouble there. With those cases, you see, everything is, if not directly related, at least indirectly related. I can draw on similar resources, walk in the same circles of society, and we all move ourselves forward. And of course, entirely by accident I have been making inroads into the French Muslim community, which should prove beneficial in the long run in ways yet to be determined. What does not fit, and what I cannot seem to get to fit in the way I think you to want it to, is this domestic business with our young Nason."
"Say no more," Castelneau said. "I have been reassessing the matter myself. I have tried to tell myself that since I asked you merely to keep your eyes and ears open, that indeed it was not like a true, full assignment. But for someone as conscientious as yourself, I can see where it might present a problem."
"I regret to say that the matter has been intruding, shall we say? Of course, if you assign it a high priority, I will do my best to restructure my-"
"Oh, no. No! It was quite right of you to come see me. It is no good at all for me to have my agents feeling that they cannot do a job, but continuing to tell me that all is well. That will never do."
"I am sure I can do the job, my chief," Durand protested. "I am just here to see how high a priority you wish assigned to it. I am not clear on that."
"Very good. Very good. I am glad that you have the sense to come to me to make sure we are in agreement. Very wise. Very commendable. But indeed, as I said, I have been thinking of rescinding the order, on the grounds that I… well, Nason caught me off guard when he brought you in here. Not that that is an excuse, but he did catch me off guard and I have been wondering if I responded as well as I might have, off the cuff like that. Let us say that it was a good experiment, but one to be shelved for now."
"I am relieved to hear you say so. I hope you mean for Nason also?"
"No, he has fewer duties and… You think he should be pulled off also?"
"Do not misunderstand me. I like Nason. I think he shows great potential. But… How to say this? Well, for one thing he is too green, and for another I do not think it is his line of work at all. Seriously, he means well but I can see him stirring up trouble where none needs to exist. Mostly it is because he is so young, and still, ehm… How to say this? Well, he has yet to make a mark for himself, if you follow me?"
"He would like to make himself a hero, even if it is at someone else's expense, you mean?"
"Oh, no. Well, not on purpose anyway. Truly, I am not sure if I am more afraid that he will be destroyed by dangers he has not yet learned to see, or if he will bring trouble on our agency by over-reaching. He has a great sense of loyalty, I think, and wishes to do the right thing, but, well, I wonder sometimes if he is better suited for sniping than for undercover work. It is hard to know. He is so young yet, and so earnest. In ten years, he might be a different fellow and just what you need. In any case, at this age he is not the man for the job, I don't think. If you must have one of us, I guess I could fairly easily shift more of the Coudray matter to the Rio team, or in the Burke matter I am confident that I could be replaced."
"No, you are quite right. I have been trying to put my finger on what was wrong, and here you have done it for me. I have made the blunder of putting a promising young man to an older man's work. It is not fair to him, nor likely to succeed."
"Do not be too hard on yourself. Nason has a presence about him that is easy enough to mistake for maturity."
"Ah, well, now that you mention it, since I last talked to you, another man, older and quite experienced, has come free. I had been thinking of having him take over. Perhaps Nason would make a good second in command?"
"A cleaner break would be kinder, if I may say so. Speaking as a field agent, it is always easier to be reassigned than to be demoted on a project
one has sunk one's heart and soul into. But of course you must think in terms of what is needed, not in terms of the feelings of sensitive young men who are just learning to find their way about."
"I will think on it," Castelneau said. "I will think on it. As for yourself, you are off the case."
"Thank you. If there is nothing else, I know you are busy." Durand rose from his chair to emphasize his willingness to get out of a busy man's way. Castelneau excused him. Durand bowed his way out. As soon as he'd closed the door to the chief's office, Vivi motioned him over.
"Do you wish Nason off the case also?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"I won't do anything if nothing is needed, but I will see to it if I have to," she whispered. She winked.
Three hours later, Bertin Nason was removed from the Unknown Communist Subversives case. He was given a pat on the back for doing so well until an expert could be obtained.
Durand, when notified of this turn of events, was pleased. He had helped a promising young man out of an awkward and dangerous situation that to some degree involved his own daughter as long as the young man in question was involved. Indeed, to get Nason back to merely sniping solved many woes at once. From both a professional and paternal point of view, he'd done a good day's work, he thought.
-
When Durand got home that night, he walked in on a doleful and chaotic scene. Marie-Bertrade was weeping in the front room. The cats were ripping furniture to shreds to vent their distress at her weeping (or perhaps they were angry that no one was paying them proper attention). The parrot was hoping to get out a closed window by bashing upon it. Worst of all, Perrine looked as though her heart was torn in two. Loud music from the boys' room suggested that they had had all the feminine sobs they could handle and were determined to drown out what they could.
Hilaire noticed the front door was open and made a dash for freedom. Durand barely managed to close the door and free himself from the thwarted and flustered parrot when his daughter flung herself into his arms. "Oh, Papa, he's gone. He's gone," she said, in the tiniest voice he could remember her using in forever.
"Who's gone?" Durand said stupidly, dreading the answer, though he thought he knew it already, just from the gut-wrenching scene in front of him.
"Bertin," she whispered, almost as if she were afraid of saying the name aloud.
Durand looked helplessly at Perrine. "What happened? Do you know?" he asked dully. A dozen possibilities he could not utter raced through his mind, most of them his fault because he'd upset the balance of things, and had perhaps frightened into precipitous action one or more of the evil men who were arrayed against the more honest members of government service.
Marie-Bertrade spoke into her father's chest. "He was called to the south of France, and…" She could say no more.
Durand hugged his daughter tighter, and gently caressed her temple. He kissed the top of her bowed head. "On business, you mean?"
"Yes. For sniping. There was some hostage situation that needed him to come right away."
"And somehow things went wrong," Durand prompted, trying to ease his child through her grief, and also to feed his own hunger for answers about this unspeakable calamity.
Marie-Bertrade whipped her head up, startled and frightened. "Oh, no, please no-o-o-o, tell me you do not have news that he is hurt. I could not stand it!"
Durand put her at arm's length and looked at her. "I have no news at all. I thought you were telling me that he had died! What are we talking about?!"
Perrine rushed over and led her husband gently but firmly to a chair and had him sit down. "I will get you some wine," she said, patting his hand reassuringly.
He grabbed her hand. "Just please tell me what is going on," he begged.
"We got news that Bertin had been transferred without notice to a flying squad in the south; one of those specialist teams, you know, that cover large areas and go wherever they are needed. He was to have a couple or three weeks to prepare to move, but then terrorists took over a casino, and everyone who could be mobilized was sent," Perrine said.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Durand said. "He will be back, then, God willing."
"But only to pack, Papa. Only to pack and then he will be off again," Marie-Bertrade sobbed. "Oh! You are heartless! Oh! It is not fair!" She ran from him. She slammed the door to her room behind her. The first slam must not have been loud enough, because she opened the door and slammed it a second time, harder.
"I will get us both wine," Perrine said, taking herself off to the kitchen.
Bartholomew and Tolkien came over to Durand and sat at his feet. They stared at him.
"Do not look at me. I am still unsure what is going on," he told the cats. He ran his fingers through his hair. He patted his chest a few times, to try to steady his heartbeat.
"I am only quitting smoking! I am only quitting smoking!" Hilaire squawked.
Durand fixed a cold stare on the parrot. "That's not what I want to hear right now."
"That's not what I want to hear right now. Not what I want to hear right now," Hilaire echoed.
"And especially not in that voice," Durand said.
"Don't speak to me in that voice, young man," Hilaire said, more or less in Perrine's voice.
Giggles came from the doorway.
"Sorry, Papa. But it is so fun to have a parrot, is it not?" Regis said, doubled over laughing from seeing his father get fussed at by a bird.
"Not especially," Durand said.
Regis walked up uncertainly to his father. "Everything will be all right, won't it? It is just Berti being a love-goose, isn't it? That is why all the feathers are flying, no?"
Durand's other troubles flew out the window. He set to the task of reassuring his youngest son.
Perrine, on her way back with wine, paused in the doorway. She didn't want to interrupt the fellows at their chat. Durand, though, like nearly always, felt her presence and looked up. He reached a hand toward her. "Here now, Perrine. I wish I had handled this whole mess differently. Better, you know."
"That makes two of us," Perrine said. "I wish I had got across to you right away that Bertin was all right as far as we knew."
"Oh, no. It was my fault for jumping to conclusions," Durand said.
"Oh, brother. If you two are going to get mushy, I'm leaving," Regis announced.
"Take the parrot with you, please," Durand said.
He raised his eyebrows mischievously in Perrine's direction. "And do not dawdle, my son," he added, when he saw his wife's reaction to his flirting.
Perrine laughed so hard she had to find a place to set down the glasses so she didn't spill any wine.
A door opened. "You cannot laugh. Not at a time like this. It is not fair," Marie-Bertrade wailed. She slammed the door closed.
"Double brother," Regis muttered.
"Double brother," Hilaire echoed.
"Roasted parrot might taste good," Regis said, to his mother.
"I wouldn't know how to cook it," Perrine said.
"You would figure something out, I am sure," Regis said. He convinced the parrot to get on his shoulder, for a joint retreat in proper style. "Let us find Matthieu. He deserves to be parroted today," he said, as he left.
Not Exactly Allies Page 50