Lili and the neighbor woman leave . . . I didn't say anything . . . not a word . . . let them telephone . . . Versailles . . . the ambulance . . . no, I won't bother Tailhefer . . . she won't be badly off in Versailles, the hospital is very well heated . . . she'll be better off than at home . . . and maybe . . . I think it over . . . after my telling her about ghosts, about those bozos from
La Publique
, she didn't want to stay there any more . . . you're always on tenterhooks with your patients . . . did you say too much? or not enough?
I'm always beating my brains out, thinking up things to say . . . for my patients . . . for Achille! . . . 900 . . . 1,000 pages . . . or for Gertrut . . . one's as big a crook as the other . . . I'd like to see them skin each other alive right before my eyes! knife each other in all directions! chop each other into skunk stew! . . . but hell's fire! . . . cowardly cutthroats don't cut! . . . Loukoum less than anybody! that empty vagina! . . . in all this world and the next you won't find a more voracious gang of sharks! . . . false teeth . . . nylon fins! . . . and limousines as big as a house . . . all glutted on scribblers' blood! the quarts they've pumped out of me! I know what I'm saying!
Or don't I? Hell! . . .
This thing with the neighbor woman upset me . . . worse than
La Publique
. . . the ambulance . . . I've lost you again . . . you and the thread! Let's see now . . . we were in Siegmaringen . . . one memory . . . another . . . I've got it! . . . another memory cropping up . . . of Le Havre . . . Le Havre . . . I've got it! . . . I was substituting for a colleague, Malouvier . . . yes, yes, that's it . . . a patient in Montivilliers on the National Highway . . . I can still see that patient . . . and his cancer of the rectum . . . I was still mighty active, ardent, devoted . . . at that time . . . I ran myself ragged . . . I answered every call! . . . this cancer patient, two three times a day! . . . morphine and dressing . . . I was a whole clinic all by myself . . . but they took him away from me . . . not because I wasn't taking good care of him . . . no . . . because he was going mad . . . the family couldn't
control him, he was bashing into everything . . . the cupboard . . . the window . . . breaking everything . . . said I was preventing him from going to work . . . accusing me! his conscience was killing him . . . because he knew it was all over! that he'd never go to the factory again! . . . the cops would come for him, they were already there! he saw them coming in the window! to take him to prison! for not working! he hadn't stopped in sixty years! never! never missed a day at the floating docks in Honfleur! not one day! "Help! help!" I did my best . . . my soothing words and my 100 milligrams of morphine . . . he'd never missed a day! . . . they'd had to take him away . . . cancer isn't the whole story . . . the big thing is conscience about your work! well, that is, not for people like Brottin . . . or Gertrut . . . who wait . . . just wait . . . for the work to pour in! . . . I'm here to prove it . . . like Paraz
°
. . . the sick worker . . . they wait for the work to come in! . . . fever or no fever! . . . "How you coming, clown?. . . how many pages?"
Raumnitz was always there about five o'clock . . . you could almost count on it . . . from five to seven . . . then he went out to the Castle . . . or some place else . . . this wasn't his only headquarters . . . he saw people all over. . . every hour of the day and night . . . ten or twelve different places . . . at the
Löwen
it was from five to seven . . . room 26, directly over ours . . . all cops are like that, they've got dozens of offices, places to see people . . . same with politicians . . . and ambassadors . . . that's why you always get a funny feeling in certain streets of any capital . . . Mayfair, Monceau, Riverside . . . full of shady houses and people . . . no rundown furnished houses and apartments . . . even there in Siegmaringen, Raumnitz's secret quarters, take it from me! nothing like our dive! I knew his wing of the Castle, two floors! all full of flowers . . . azaleas, hydrangeas, narcissus . . . and those roses! . . . I'll bet you the Kremlin is full of roses in January . . . there in the Castle, with a whole wing to himself, two floors, Raumnitz had an army of flunkeys, chambermaids, cooks and laundresses, maybe he was even better off than Pétain! . . . more luxurious! . . . and he had other places in town . . . not only for himself . . . for his wife, his daughter and his mastiffs . . . you wouldn't find better in East End or Long Beach . . . if you're looking for magic, go ask the police . . . if they say no, they're lying, they've got plenty . . . if tomorrow Paris is ground to powder by the G, Z . . . or Y-bomb . . . there'll still be plenty of those neat little lovenests three hundred feet underground, with every comfort, bidet, azaleas, wine cellars, cigars this big, foam-rubber sofas, belonging to the police . . . this police and that police . . . and the police will always be around . . . subject of food supply, you should have seen those stocks of food cards between the flower pots . . . enough to feed all Siegmaringen! . . . Raumnitz, the missus, and their daughter . . . had too much of everything . . . but they never offered us one slice of bread! one crust! one ticket! . . . it was a point of honor with them . . . for us, nothing!
He didn't despise my medical ability, I treated him, bad case of aortitis . . . my fees? double zero! . . . his point of honor! right now, coming back from Brinon's, I wanted him to send some of his cops to throw out the lunatic and the nurse . . . for a starter!
I say to Lili: come! . . . first we've got to get through the landing! . . . even more people than before! . . . people from the
Bären
, even noisier . . . young people, the terror of Frucht, who expected them to demolish his hotel, his restaurant, his crapper . . . much wilder than our crowd at the
Löwen
. . . first the
Stam
down below, the beer . . . and whish, upstairs to piss, and diarrhea! smash the door and the bolts, and pour into the toilet . . . six or ten at a time . . . smash the bowl . . . the chain! take away the seat! . . . victory! . . . victory! by main force! another piss-together in the vestibule, on the stairs! . . . the deluge! . . . but hold your hats! just then . . . in the middle of the piss . . . two German girls pee! . . . and go into position! . . . frantic! . . . sniffing! their skirts up like this! . . . and let her go! and all the young folks around them! stamping! mad with joy! clapping! . . . egging them on! . . . and pissing in unison! . . . two really good-looking girls . . . in a clinch . . . refugees from Dresden . . . the "city of artists" . . . all the actresses came from Dresden . . . the haven . . . the refuge of the arts! . . . these two, real swingers . . . were supposedly opera singers . . . outside the crapper and in front of Frucht and in front of everybody! . . . and the mob on the landing shouting hurrah! . . . "hurrah, Fräulein!" A brunette and a redhead . . . an orgy, really not the place for it . . . clinching right in the middle of the pond . . . I could see there wasn't a chance of opening the door . . . our door, No. 11 . . . I don't know how many people there were around my bed . . . around the nut with his patient under him . . . the rest of them were just as batty . . . egging him on! . . . "Atta boy! Atta boy! cut his ear off!" . . .
My presence of mind is famous! I didn't waste time . . . "Come, Lili, come!"
And don't forget that in the sky, high up in the clouds and lower down over the rooftops, the merry-go-round was still going on . . . God's perpetual thunder, Fortresses passing over! . . . London . . . Augsburg . . . Munich . . . grazing our windows with their wing tips . . . hurricanes of motors . . . deafening! you couldn't hear a thing! . . . not even the howling in the corridor! . . .
They were packed in all right, the whole
Bären
yelling for the girls to skin each other alive . . . and in our joint for the surgeon to cut the guy's ear off! . . .
You can imagine with that bedlam the trouble we had . . . Lili and I . . getting to the next floor! we shove! we push through! Christ! we made it! . . . the stairs . . . No. 28! I knock! Ah, it's Aisha! Frau Aisha von Raumnitz . . . she opens . . . they're married, really married . . . I'll explain . . . she opens . . . Aisha Raumnitz doesn't speak any more German than Lili . . . three words . . . she was brought up in Beirut . . . she's from around there, I'll tell you about it . . . right now I want to see her husband . . . I'm in luck, he's there . . . he's lying down in his dressing gown . . .
"Well, Doctor? Well?"
"Brinon has sent me to ask you . . ."
"I know . . . I know . . ." he cuts me short . . . "you've got a lunatic in your place . . . and the whole corridor full of lunatics! . . . Aisha! . . . Aisha! . . . You attend to this!"
No hesitation . . . He hands her a bundle of keys . . .
"Take the dogs!"
The two mastiffs! . . . he beckons to them . . . one leap and they're at his wife's feet . . . well, at her boots! . . . she's wearing boots . . . red leather . . . makes you think of an Oriental horsewoman, the way she keeps tapping on her boots . . . and an enormous yellow whip . . .
"Let's go, Doctor!" . . .
I've only got to follow her . . . with her I know that everything will be all right . . . the mastiffs know, too . . . they start growling and show their fangs . . . enormous! . . . they keep growling . . . they don't bite . . . they follow at Madame's heels . , . they're ready to rip anybody she says apart . . . that's all! . . . admirably trained animals . . . and powerful Buffaloes! . . . muzzles, chests, haunches! the force of the impact and you're out flat! . . . before you can open your mouth! . . . Not to mention their fangs . . . you and your carotids, one mouthful! . . . Aisha and her mastiffs, people move aside! . . . Real respect! . . . no questions . . . Aisha doesn't say anything either . . . she moves rather languidly . . . swaying at the hips . . . not fast . . . the stinkers all pull their pants up . . . the loudmouth pissers . . . they all flow down toward the street . . . the brunette and the redhead too, they pull themselves together . . . and step on it . . . orgasm or no orgasm! . . . the nymphos break . . . they stop yelling! . . . nobody is yelling about anything anymore . . . not even the torture of needing to shit . . . In my room, No. 11, the second they catch sight of Aisha, panic . . . frenzy! they knock us over to get out quicker! and they climb over each other to get out first! . . . ah, the surgeon and the nurse and the garage man and his ear! . . . the way they bounced off my bed! straightening, running! hell bent! . . . now it's the surgeon that's yelling! he starts in! The one who was under him, the refugee from Strasbourg, isn't yelling any more . . . the nurse takes away the boxes of cotton . . . they all try to get through at once! oh, but that won't do . . . Aisha has a good idea! . . . she's languid but precise! "Stop! stop!" she says to the three of them . . . they should stay right where they are! nut, nurse, and victim! all three of them! right there! nose to the wall! . . . she shows them! on their feet, flat against the wall! . . . the mastiffs growl at their asses . . . those fangs, I've told you . . . "And don't move" . . . they don't move . . . the whole landing is clear and the long corridor and my room . . . not a soul . . . vacuum! . . . ah, the pissers who couldn't hold it in! and the two opera singers! . . . all those lunatics! abracadabra! a charm! . . . but that's not all! Aisha had her idea . . .
Komm!
suddenly she's talking to them in German . . . to the three with their nose to the wall . . . they should come and follow her! . . . tag along! I want to see . . . Way at the other end of the lobby a little passage and then two steps . . . No. 36! . . . the door to 36 . . .
creak! creak!
. . . she opens . . . she motions to the nut to go in first, then the nurse, then the man from Strasbourg . . . they hesitate . . . ah! Aisha doesn't care for hesitation . . . It's go . . . let's go . . .!" They start rolling their eyes! . . . especially the garage man! . . . they're wondering whether to go in . . . they look at the dogs . . . they climb the two steps . . . Room 36 . . . I knew that room . . . well, I knew it a little . . . I'd gone there twice for Raumnitz, to see two fugitives who'd been brought back from God knows where . . . two old men . . . it was the only solid room in the whole
Löwen
. . . fortified . . . concrete walls, iron door, barred windows . . . and those bars weren't thin! I know my super-prisons . . . all the other rooms in the
Löwen
sort of swayed and wobbled, cracks, loose bricks . . . all falling apart! plaster, ceiling, beds, everything! There wasn't a single bed that had all four legs . . . three at the most! a lot of them only one! you can imagine, the vibration of the planes! Beyond repair! Herr Frucht had given up! and the tenants contributed to the wreckage . . . that was their only way of avenging themselves on the Boches, on Frucht, on the planes, and being there . . . the whole business! two, three, four of them would sit down in a chair . . . smash it good and proper . . . ten or fifteen on the bed. What a mess! especially the soldiers in transit, the reinforcements on their way to the Rhine front . . . those
Landsturm
boys . . . Christ! the world's champion looters! . . . but there was nothing left to loot! . . . everything was gone or pulverized! like my place on the rue Girardon! the exciting thing about passing through is the stealing! . . . there was nothing removable left . . . the whole
Löwen
was reeling under the London-Munich Armadas . . . the roaring . . . a thousand motors . . . tiles flying through the air . . . the whole street was full of the pieces . . . the ceilings, you can imagine! . . . oh, but not the ceilings of Room 36! the
only one in the
Löwen
that
could take it! . . . I'd noticed this cell . . . I've told you . . . absolutely perfect condition! . . . I wasn't going to ask questions . . . what had become of the two old men? or what they were going to do with these three? the nut, the nurse, and the garage man . . . they were "fugitives" too . . . so were we, I suppose . . . anyway Aisha was in charge of Room 36, opening, stowing, and closing . . . what went on in there? . . . I couldn't ask Raumnitz . . . rumors . . . it seems
they
shipped people out at night . . . a truck came by on certain nights . . . so they said . . . I never saw any truck, and I went out pretty often at all hours . . . one thing was sure: for whole weeks No. 36 was empty . . . and then all of a sudden jampacked . . . the legend, the rumor was that nobody was ever supposed to see that truck . . . that they chained them and piled them in . . . all these so-called fugitives . . . and hauled them away to the East . . . further than Posen . . . supposedly to some camp . . . I couldn't very well ask Raumnitz what he sent them to Posen for . . . or Aisha . . . anyway one sure thing, she'd cleared
out
our joint in two seconds flat! . . . pure panic! . . . Aisha had plenty of authority! with her mastiffs! and her whip! . . .