Paris: The Novel (41 page)

“He sang an Italian song.”

“Then what?”

“He fell.”

“How?”

“He took a bow, quite a big one. Three times. Center, then left, then right. Then he took a final bow, deeper than the others, and lost his balance. Then … it was very sudden.”

“This girl is his friend?”

“Yes. She is very shocked.”

“Naturally.” The inspector turned to Anna. “I understand you are distressed, mademoiselle, but I must ask you a few questions.”

Her name and address. Pepe’s name and address. Was he of Italian family? Was she? How long had she known him? Had she drunk Guinness and wine with him at the Irish bar? Did he climb the tower and sing an Italian song? Was she standing below? Did he take a bow three times, then a final bow and lose his balance? Did she see this, and was this what happened?”

“Yes. Yes it was.” She burst into tears.

The inspector closed his notebook, and turned to Ney and Eiffel.

“It is very clear. I am satisfied. There will be some formalities later, of course, but unless Monsieur Eiffel wishes it, I personally see no need to take matters further.”

Eiffel indicated that he also was satisfied. At a nod from the inspector, the two assistants put Pepe on the stretcher and started to carry him away.

“I think I should take Anna to her home,” said Thomas.

Ney glanced at Eiffel, who said he was going to remain at the site for a while. Then Ney told Thomas that he and Anna should come with him, and he would convey them home. Thomas wondered if he should say something to Monsieur Eiffel, but the engineer had already turned his back.

By the bridge, the lawyer had a small fiacre waiting. The two men put Anna between them, the cab driver whipped up his single horse and they set off.

Anna lived with her parents in a small tenement near the southern Porte d’Italie. It took them nearly half an hour to reach it. When they got there, Ney went in with Anna to speak to the girl’s parents. When he emerged he told Thomas that he would return him to his lodgings.

“You must not try to see Édith today,” he told him. “She is resting.”

They had gone a short distance when Thomas ventured to speak something that had been on his mind.

“You were good enough to say to the police that I was your client, monsieur, but you know I haven’t much money.”

“You need not concern yourself with that,” the lawyer replied. “Monsieur Eiffel wishes it.”

“I am amazed he would do such a thing for me. Does he know that this is partly my fault?”

“Do not deceive yourself, young man. Monsieur Eiffel is not pleased with you at all. But there is more at stake here. The tower is the center of the Universal Exposition, the World’s Fair that is about to open. The honor of France as well as that of Monsieur Eiffel are at stake. Having heard the details from Édith, I was able to point out to him, and also to the inspector, that tragic though the business is, it is somewhat fortunate, to put it bluntly, that the deceased young man was Italian. No one wants a Frenchman to be involved with such an embarrassment. It is in nobody’s interest that your part in this should receive publicity. I was therefore able to protect both Édith and yourself.”

“That is why the inspector never asked me where I was when Pepe fell.”

“Precisely. He had no wish to know. If there were any doubt that this was a stupid and terrible accident, it would be another matter. But that is not the case.”

“His fall was exactly as I described it, I assure you.”

“If the authorities require you to testify again, they will come to me, and I shall tell you what to do. But in the meantime, I must stress to you that nobody must know of your part in this. I have made the parents of Anna quite terrified. She will not speak of it at all. Édith you may be sure has no reason to do so. But you must keep silent, or Monsieur Eiffel will be very angry. Technically, you know, he could prosecute you for entering the tower the way you did.”

“I shall not speak a word.”

“Good. I was able to tell Monsieur Eiffel that, as a lawyer, I thought you had acted very wisely after the accident.”

Clearly Ney had lost no time in making himself useful to Eiffel, thought Thomas. One could only admire him for it.

But after the lawyer dropped him off in the rue de la Pompe, he suddenly found he was very tired.

By the time he went to work the next day, Thomas was ready with his story. In the first place, he’d say nothing. If by chance anyone knew he’d met Pepe for a meal on Sunday, he’d simply say that he’d parted from him immediately afterward, and known nothing about the accident.

If there had been any doubt in his mind about the consequences of saying anything else, they ended as he walked down the rue de la Pompe.

He was just passing the place where Édith’s family had once had their little farm when Jean Compagnon fell into step beside him.

“Nice day,” said the foreman.

“It is,” said Thomas.

“Keep your mouth shut,” said Compagnon.

“Don’t know what you mean,” said Thomas. “But I always do.”

“If anyone finds out, Eiffel will fire you. He’ll have to.”

Thomas didn’t answer.

“But that,” continued Jean Compagnon pleasantly, “will be the least of your troubles. Because I’ll be waiting for you, and you’ll join your friend Pepe, wherever he may be.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Thomas, “but I’m sorry if you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you,” said Jean Compagnon. Then a moment later he turned abruptly into another street, leaving Thomas to go on alone.

Thomas was strong, and he knew how to fight. But he wasn’t under any illusions. If the burly foreman wanted to kill him, he could do it.

At the tower, Pepe was replaced without any explanation. They were doing the finishing touches now. Not all the men were needed anymore. No doubt the news of the accident would be out soon, but obviously it had not been released to the newspapers yet. The day passed quietly.

It did not pass so quietly for Édith. She had slept through the night in her aunt’s quarters, because Aunt Adeline had given her a sleeping draft. She awoke and took a little tea and a croissant.

But even while she was eating this
petit déjeuner
, the terrible feeling that had been gnawing at her the day before came back, with just the same awful, insistent coldness, so that she cried out to Aunt Adeline in agony: “It was me that killed him! It was my fault.”

Her aunt sighed.

“You’re quite wrong.”

“I told him to take a bow. If he hadn’t done that …”

“He would have done it anyway.”

“Maybe not.”

“He had the choice. People have to take responsibility for their actions. It was he who decided to go up the tower, anyway, in the first place.”

There was truth in this. But not enough, Édith felt, to absolve her. She sat with her head bowed over her cup of tea, shaking her head slowly.

And then something happened.

At first, when she felt the little gush, she didn’t understand. She went into the bedroom where she slept and used the bed pan. A few minutes later, she called her aunt.

Aunt Adeline was very calm. She told Édith to stay where she was and that she’d be back in a few minutes. Then she went out to fetch the doctor.

Later in the morning, the doctor gave her the news. She had lost the child.

“Thank God,” said Aunt Adeline.

It was a week later that Thomas was told Monsieur Eiffel wanted to see him in his office.

The great man had wasted no time installing himself in his office at the top of the tower. Since the elevators were not operating yet, it meant a huge climb; but Eiffel didn’t seem to mind. From the third platform, a small spiral staircase led directly up to his quarters.

As he knocked on the door and went in, Thomas was struck by how comfortable the office was. The wall had already been papered in a dark, striped wallpaper. There was a patterned carpet on the floor. Eiffel had a table, a desk and a couple of chairs, and a few small ornaments. And one could look out on a breathtaking panorama. Monarchs and presidents might have palaces, but Monsieur Eiffel, without any doubt, now had the finest office in the world.

There was quite a strong wind blowing that day. As he stood close to the pinnacle of the great tower, Thomas could just feel the faintest motion.

Eiffel was sitting at his desk. He was looking at some papers. Without looking up, he read Thomas’s thoughts.

“The maximum sway caused by the wind is about twelve centimeters,” he remarked drily. He finished checking a list, then looked up. “You know why I sent for you?”

“I think so, monsieur. I apologize.”

“When the Russian tsar built his city of St. Petersburg, he drove his workers relentlessly. Do you know how many men died working on that great enterprise?”

“Non, monsieur.”

“A hundred thousand. St. Petersburg rests on their bones. When we began work on this tower,” Eiffel continued, “it was assumed there would be accidents. There always are on big projects, alas. But I took exemplary care. I put in movable barriers and screens—safety precautions more sophisticated than anything used on a building site before. And we built the tower without the loss of a single life.” He paused. “Until the other day.”

“It was not your fault, Monsieur Eiffel. It was mine. It was an accident.”

“Do you think that anyone will remember that? All that will be remembered will be that one of the workers on my tower fell to his death.”

“I am truly sorry, monsieur.”

“I made space for you, when you asked me if you could work on the tower. This is how you repay my kindness. You have dishonored me.”

Thomas bowed his head. The children of the Maquis, like the knights of old, understood honor. Every Frenchman understood it. And he had dishonored his hero.

“I have in front of me the list of names of the workers on the tower,” continued Eiffel. “As I promised, they will be painted on a plaque where they may be seen. But I cannot bring myself to add your name to the list. Do you understand? You will receive your bonus of a hundred francs, but no public recognition.”

Thomas nodded. He did not look up. He could not speak.

“That is all,” said the builder of the tower.