Death Instinct - Jed Rubenfeld [37]
“It’s not.” She turned away. Her voice fell: “They’ve taken Luc. To a school for recalcitrant children. He was living with me in the basement of the institute. Madame is letting me stay there until my position opens up. It’s perfectly nice. There are bathrooms, and books, and hot plates I cook on. But someone reported us to the authorities.”
“Fools,” said Younger. “What is recalcitrant supposed to mean?”
“The other children are thieves and imbeciles. It’s criminal. Luc learns nothing and receives no treatment.”
“He doesn’t need treatment. He needs to live.”
“How do you know?” she asked. “Are you a psychologist?”
He didn’t answer.
“You could have helped him get the best treatment in the world,” she said. “You remember how he used to write notes sometimes? He doesn’t even do that anymore. He hasn’t communicated with anyone for two months. Oh, why am I telling you this? Why am I here? I hate this country. I have to go—my train is coming.”
She ran away.
He expected to see her the following week. After ten days, he went to the liaison office to find out if she had come back. She hadn’t. Younger lit a cigarette and gazed up at Bitburg’s perpetually gray sky.
In the spring, when his discharge orders finally came through, he took a train to Paris. At the Radium Institute, he asked for Miss Rousseau. The receptionist told him that Colette was out, but expected back shortly. He waited outside.
The streets of Paris were admirable. Always a tree in the right place. The buildings handsome and large, but never too large. The smell of clean water on pavement. He wondered whether he should move there.
Colette was halfway up the steps before she recognized him. She stopped in astonishment and broke into her most radiant smile, which as quickly disappeared. She was even thinner than she had been. Her cheeks had a pretty pointing of red, but the cause, it seemed to him, might be hunger.
“Come inside,” she said.
He shook his head. They went walking instead. “Did you find your Hans Gruber?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“You didn’t go back to Bitburg, did you?”
“No, but I will.”
“Because you didn’t have money for the train. Have you been eating?”
“I’ll be fine in ten days. That’s when my job starts. For now I have to save everything for Luc. They don’t feed him enough in school. Do I look awful?”
“More beautiful than ever,” said Younger, “if that’s possible. I found your soldier. Hans was Austrian. He volunteered with the Germans when the war broke out. They gave me an address in Vienna. Here.”
He handed her a piece of paper. She stared at it: “Thank you.”
“How is Luc?” he asked.
“Terrible.”
“Do they ever let him out?”
“Of course. In fact his school goes on holiday at the end of this week. How long will you be in Paris? I know he’d like to see you.”
“I’m leaving this Friday.”
“Oh,” she said. “Do come and see the institute. We have American soldiers visiting, learning Madame’s radiography techniques.”
“I know. That’s why I won’t go in. I’ve had enough of the army for a while.”
“But I could introduce you to Madame.”
“No.” They had come to a street with trolley cars rambling on it. “Well, Miss Rousseau, I don’t want to keep you.”
She looked up at him: “Why did you come?”
“I almost forgot. There was something else I meant to give you.”
He handed her an envelope from his pocket. It contained a short telegram, which read:
I WILL ACCEPT BOY WITH PLEASURE AS NEW PATIENT. ADVISE SISTER TO CALL ON ME DIRECTLY SHE ARRIVES VIENNA.
FREUD
She was speechless.
“You can kill two birds with one stone,” said Younger. “Take Luc to Freud, and pay a visit to your soldier’s family.”
“But I can’t. I don’t speak German. Where would I stay? I can’t even afford the tickets.”
“I speak German,” he replied.
“You would come?”
“Not if you’re going to shoot me.”
To his surprise, she threw her arms around his neck. He had the impression she was crying.
Jimmy Littlemore unburdened the kitchen table of his feet. He stretched his