Duke Elric - Michael Moorcock [104]
“So you think he is planning a job in Paris?” asked the commissioner. He allowed a small smile to flicker across his face. “After all, we are not short of the undeserving rich …”
“Perhaps. Or he could be diverting himself here while all the time what he is doing at night is the important thing. Eh?” From under his lowering, sardonic brow, Sir Seaton returned Lapointe's smile. “Might he be making himself so public that all our attention is drawn to his flaneurism, and we ignore his true activities?”
“What do you suggest? We need to know details of Hitler's plans soon, Sir Seaton. We must anticipate and counter whatever terror the Nazi insurgents intend to unleash.”
“Naturally you must. What else can you tell me?”
“Only that the adventuress Mrs. Una Persson recently took rooms above the arcades shortly after I contacted you. For the last three days she has been seen in the gardens walking her two cats, one grey and one black Oriental shorthair. She is a known associate of Monsieur Zenith.”
“Of him and others,” agreed Begg, his eyes narrowing in an expression of reminiscence. “And does she have a female companion, perhaps? A Miss Cornelius?”
“Not as far as we know.”
Sinclair seemed surprised. His eyes darted from Lapointe to Begg and then to LeBec, who shrugged.
“Mrs. Persson has been seen talking to Zenith,” LeBec offered. “Yesterday she had lunch with him at L'Albertine. We had a lip reader eating at a nearby table. Zenith mentioned Hitler and Rohm. He might have spoken of an explosive charge in Paris. Unfortunately we did not learn where. She said that she had investigated a site where a bomb would create the most damage. So certain of those among our superiors are now convinced they are working together for the Nazi insurgents.”
Lapointe interrupted rapidly. “Of course, I find that impossible to believe.” He shrugged. “But I, as do we all, have certain bosses owing their jobs more to their connections than their native abilities, who insist on believing Zenith and Mrs. Persson are in league with Hitler and his underground army. It could be, perhaps, that they are working for themselves and that they have plans which Hitler's activities will facilitate. My guess is that some treasure is involved, for it is not Zenith's habit to dabble in civilian politics. At least as far as I know. Not so, of course, Mrs. Persson. Is there a way you could find out any more, Sir Seaton? Something I could take to my superiors which will put me onto the real business Zenith has in Paris? Whatever that may be.”
Sir Seaton finished his café crème, smiling out at a group of little boys and girls running with fixed attention towards the pleasure of the carousel.
“I could ask him,” he said.
CHAPTER TWO
A Conversation at L'Albertine
Inevitably Seaton Begg met his albino cousin close to the noon hour in the Arcades de l'Opera which branched, eight galleries, off a central court containing a paved piazza and an elaborate fountain. He appeared almost by magic, smiling courteously and lifting his hat in greeting. Impeccably well-mannered, Zenith, of course, was incapable of ignoring him.
“Bonjour, cher cousin!” The albino raised his own tall grey hat. “What a pleasure to come upon you like this! We have a great deal to talk about since our last meeting. Perhaps you would be good enough to take a cup of coffee with me at L'Albertine P”
After they dispensed with their hats and ordered, Count Zenith leaned back in his chair and moved his ebony cane in an elegant, economic gesture in the direction of a beautiful young woman, wearing a long, military-style black coat and with a helmet of raven black hair, walking two cats in the sunny gardens at the centre of the