by Seth Lynch
'Make one for me please,' I call out.
The sound of clinking comes from the kitchen. Summoning up some inner strength I swing my legs around and sit up. Stefan and I have made the living room smell of men. Marie hands me a coffee. She looks sleepy and wistful - I want to hold her. She wakes Stefan, who stretches out on the floor. He looks like a waif with his tousled hair and woman's clothing. We drink the coffee in silence.
'What will happen now?' Marie asks.
'Stefan and I will go for a drive. Then it will all be over. Might be worth you and him going up to Brittany for a few days. Pull over somewhere secluded on the way and clean the blood out of the automobile.'
'Can it really be that easy?'
'Yes and no. You can forget these things for a while but they'll come back to you now and then. I don't reckon the flics in Vaour will come up with anything. When they start investigating monsieur Dubois and find out that he's really monsieur Marty they'll be occupied for a year or two interviewing all the people who had it in for him.'
'Will they interview you?'
'Quite probably, but I never found him and my client left the country. They may gather some circumstantial evidence but they'll need me to confess. It's dark enough out there now. Stefan, you go and check the coast is clear and wait for me downstairs.'
Stefan slopes off.
'Marie, the best thing you can do is return to Belgium. First you need to encourage Stefan to leave you.'
'How? I've tried to get rid of him before. He's very persistent.'
'Make sure he keeps himself clean and looking smart. Encourage him to go out with other girls. Do it subtlety; take him to cafés where he stands a chance of meeting them. Eventually he'll realise he's getting nowhere with you and attach himself to someone else.'
'But they'll see him with me.'
'And he'll be all the more alluring for it. I won't come back in when I return for my automobile. If you need me, you have my card. Take care of yourself, Marie.'
'You too, Salazar.'
Marie's vehicle handles a bit better than Filatre's. Maybe the corpse is acting as ballast. The drive through the city is a thrill, catching fleeting glimpses of lovers under street lights. We drive until the people grow fewer and the streets grow darker. The thrill recedes as we reach the edges of Saint-Denis. We pass through the very streets where I used to tramp. The sickness comes as old feelings stir within me. You should never go back.
I drive past an alley, then stop and reverse up it. A few metres from the river I park up. It's quiet here. Not surprising - this place is frightening enough in the daylight. A desolate spot where the locals come to rape and murder each other. With no decorum, we pull the body from the trunk. He falls on to the gravel pathway with a dull thud. We take a leg each and drag him over to the river's edge.
We scrape around on the river bank for some rocks. Marty doesn't have any pockets, so I pull his pyjama bottoms down a little and tie the ends of the legs. As I put the rocks in through his waistband I try not to look at the bloody mess that was once his stomach.
I can feel Marty's dead eyes watching me, even though I have closed his lids. Stefan is getting impatient, panicky. He doesn't say anything but I hear him behind me taking short paces to and fro. This is where it ends, on the river's edge in a northern slum.
After tonight I'll go back and share a drink with Megan. She'll be on edge after spending time with mademoiselle Sordine. Whatever it was she thought she was getting into with me I doubt it was anything like this. This will mark the end of our old life and the true beginning of our new one. Perhaps we can make a life for ourselves which is actually worth living.
I call Stefan over. He takes Marty's arms; I take the legs. A few swings and we toss him into the river. The current takes the body before it begins to sink. He's already invisible in the darkness. If the Seine ever dries up it's going to reveal a lot of truths about this city.
THE END
Acknowledgements
I'd like to thank Isla for proof-reading the chapters of this book (over and over, through many drafts) and providing valuable feedback. Dan and Dave for their encouragement. Chris Ewan, Heath Lowrance and Gary Corby, three excellent writers who gave up valuable time to read and blurb this book. Chris McVeigh for adding this book to the Fahrenheit list. Also the online writing communities and writer-bloggers who freely provide advice and feedback and time to the would-be writer. And luck, without which we'd never make it.
About the author
Born and brought up in the West of England, Seth has also lived in Carcassonne, Zurich and the Isle of Man. With two daughters, his writing time is the period spent in cafés as the girls do gym, dance, drama lessons. Previous novels include Salazar and A Dead American in Paris.
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