by Maggy Diak
***
“So that's what it is all about,” I exclaimed. “The reason for Peter's invitation to the Sorbonne are not trinities, are neither Bush, Laden, Blair, the English Queen nor the terrorism, it is the new European ruler! Or in other words, it is Isabelle who wanted to know whether she was the One! Did you know that?”
“Not until Isabelle and Mr. Otrin disappeared and I read the transcript.”
After a short pause I said: “Don't you think that the governments would be more than nterested in the idea of the new European ruler? Don't you think they would get scared and try to silence them?”
Mr. Pearson shook his head. “Well, I thought so at first. But on the other hand, it is hard to believe that any government would take the ideas and word analyses seriously enough to act. Yet, you never know.”
“There is still a possibility that Isabelle and Peter might have disappeared of their own will, isn’t there?”
“I think so.”
“But why?”
“Who knows. Maybe they thought Isabelle, as a future ruler, was in danger and they hid. “
“From the government agents?”
“Let’s say. Or maybe from the reincarnated Charlotte Corday,” he grinned.
He was making fun, but it suddenly came to my mind that he might be even right. Namely, if somebody believes in a new European ruler on the basis of reincarnation, then he most probably believes in the reincarnation of the murderer.
“But they cannot be hiding for the whole of their life,” I said. “That would have no sense!”
“They will stay hidden till the time of coronation is ripe,” he answered.
“Ripe?” I laughed. “How will they know that the time is ripe? Will she be woken up one morning by an endless crowd of people cheering to her: Isabelle! Our new European Ruler! Our Queen?”
Amusement showed in his eyes. “Who knows?”
After a short pause, he added smilingly: “Another possibility is that they are planning to take the throne by force. Maybe they are already gathering the army!”
Now I had to laugh, too.
“Are you sure that Isabelle's fiancé Maurice really had no idea of Isabelle's dream to be the next ruler? If we understood her questions right,” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know. If he did, he is hiding it damn well.”
“If they wanted nothing but confirmation that Isabelle was the next ruler, I wonder why they did not just ask Otrin over the phone, or if that was unacceptable, visit him. Why all this ceremony at the Sorbonne with all those students coming to listen to Peter?”
“Maybe because they were afraid he would not tell them if they asked him directly. Maurice told me that they had to make all the arrangements of his arrival in Paris with his wife, not with him. It was she who always picked up the receiver and when we asked her if we could speak with her husband her answer was that he was busy.”
I grinned. “The wives, …”
“No, no, it was not her fault as we later learned. He hated phones, avoided speaking on them if only he could. He kept saying that he believed only in eye to eye conversation.”
“Funny man. The more I hear about him the weirder he seems to be.”
“You are right. He proved to be a stubborn old man and if Isabelle and Maurice hadn't been so enthusiastic about his language studies, I would not have invited him. Unpredictability of Mr. Otrin must have been the main reason why they had to cover their original intention up. They were probably afraid that even eye to eye they would not get out of him what they wanted. So they lured him to Paris by telling him how honored everybody would be to see and hear him and when he wanted to know who this everybody was, they said the whole world!”
“And it helped? That’s strange. As I have heard, he is a highly modest person, not caring for honor and praise at all.”
An amused smile spread across Mr. Pearson’s face. “Have you ever met a person who would not like to be praised and honored? Believe me, Mr. Otrin is not among them. He’d like people to believe he didn’t care, however, you’d have to see his face when you start praising him.”
“Ah, yes, I know those kind of people … But I think she did not confide in Maurice. She did not tell him about her dreams to become the European ruler.”
Mr. Pearson lifted his eyebrows. “What makes you think so?”
“Well, if she had told him there would have been no need to disappear with Otrin, leaving poor Maurice behind.”
Mr. Pearson agreed. “However, “he said, “it doesn’t matter what she had told Maurice or not told, from now on there will be no place on the Sorbonne for either of them!”
“So all this crap I was reading has nothing to do with their disappearance,” I said disappointedly. “All Jerusalems, trinities and God knows what else! Why, on Earth, did you try to convince me at the beginning that one of the intelligence services kidnapped them?”
“I did not try to convince you! I said it was a possibility and asked you to read the transcription to get your picture of it.”
“But now you don't really believe that Otrin’s writings about Jerusalems and important political figures made the intelligence services act against him?”
“I’ve told you. No.”
I got up. “I'll have to have one more conversation with Maurice. He did not tell us everything.”
He stood up too and we shook hands. “Keep me informed.”
“Vice versa,” I answered and left.
O, God, how hungry I am, I thought when I was out. I looked at the watch. Of course. It was already time for lunch. I'd spent almost three hours with Mr. Pearson!
