The Beast Within - Emile Zola [79]
As Madame Lachesnaye walked in, he immediately turned on the charm; he was well versed in the social niceties and made it his duty to attend gatherings of the elite in Rouen and places near by.
‘Please take a seat, madame,’ he said, proffering a chair.
Madame Lachesnaye moved forward. She was dressed in mourning, a young woman with fair hair, looking unwell, but also rather surly and unattractive. To Monsieur Lachesnaye, who also had fair hair and who also looked unwell, Monsieur Denizet extended only token politeness; he was even rather brusque. Lachesnaye had been appointed as judge in the Court of Appeal when he was only thirty-six and had even received a decoration, thanks to the influence of both his father-in-law and his father, who had also been a magistrate and had served on a number of important joint committees. To Denizet, Lachesnaye was the prime example of a lawyer who had got where he was as a result of favouritism and money, one of those undeserving individuals who had obtained a position and was assured of rapid advancement through family connections and an inherited fortune, whereas he, lacking both wealth and connections, was reduced to constantly begging favours in an endless, uphill struggle for promotion. So he derived great satisfaction from having Lachesnaye there in front of him in his office, aware of his authority, of the absolute power he exercised over the freedom of others, and knowing that, if such were his whim, he had only to pronounce a word for a witness to stand accused and be immediately arrested.
‘Madame,’ he continued, ‘please forgive me for having to inflict this tragic affair upon you yet again; I realize how distressing it must be for you. I am sure that you are as keen as we ourselves to have the matter resolved and to see the guilty party brought to justice.’
He nodded to the clerk, a tall, sallow-looking youth with a lean face. The interview began.
No sooner had Monsieur Denizet begun to put his questions to Madame Lachesnaye, however, than her husband, who by then had sat down, as it was quite plain that no one was going to invite him to do so, insisted on answering on her behalf. He made it very obvious how bitterly he resented his father-in-law’s will. It was beyond belief! There were so many bequests, and all of them so generous that they amounted to almost half the estate, an estate worth three million, seven hundred thousand francs! Nearly all these bequests were to people nobody knew, mainly to women of inferior status. There was even one bequest to a girl who sold violets on a doorstep in the Rue du Rocher. It was outrageous. As soon as the investigation was over, he intended to have this invidious will declared null and void.
Monsieur Lachesnaye went on at great length, airing his grievances through clenched teeth and revealing himself for what he was - a fool, a petty-minded provincial, driven by pure greed. Monsieur Denizet sat looking at him with his big, bright eyes, his eyelids half closed, and his lips drawn tightly together in an expression of jealous contempt for this nonentity who was not content with his two millions and whom, thanks to his acquired fortune, he would one day see clad in purple as a High Court judge.
‘That, I think, would be ill advised, monsieur,’ said Denizet, when Lachesnaye had at last finished. ‘The will could only be overturned if the total bequests amounted to more than half of the estate, which is not the case.’
Then, turning towards his clerk, he said:
‘I hope you are not writing all this down, Laurent.’
The clerk gave him a quick smile, as much as to say that he knew what was expected