Dog Will Have His Day by Fred Vargas Page A

was he like himself? Have to ask Marthe.
    Louis went to sleep, leaning on the steering wheel, in the service area car park.
    He reached Port-Nicolas at seven in the evening. He drove slowly through the streets of the little fishing village to get some idea of it, asking his way once or twice, the place wasn’t either very big or very picturesque, and he parked right outside Lionel Sevran’s house. That dog must travel hundreds of kilometres to take a piss. Perhaps he only liked pissing in Paris, a snob among dogs.
    He rang the bell at the closed front door. A friend had told him that the great difference to ponder between animals and humans was that an animal opened doors, and never closed them after it, while a human did. A great behavioural gulf. Louis smiled as he stood waiting.
    A woman opened the door. Instinctively, Louis appraised her carefully, judging, weighing up, wondering yes, no, maybe, just in his head. He did the same to all women, unthinkingly. At the same time, he knew it was a bad habit, but the analysis went on despite himself. In his defence, Louis might have said he always checked out the face before the figure.
    This face was good, but looked very reserved, largish mouth, nice figure, nothing excessive. She replied to his questions politely, made no fuss about letting him in, but didn’t put the boat out in the way of hospitality either. Perhaps she was just used to visitors. If he wanted to wait for her husband, yes, all right, he could just sit down in the main room, but it might be a little while.
    She was doing a big jigsaw puzzle on a large tray, and went back to work, after having installed him in an armchair and put a glass and some aperitif bottles beside him.
    Louis poured himself a drink and watched her do the puzzle. Seen from upside down, it seemed to be of the Tower of London at night. She was working on the sky. He put her age at about forty.
    ‘He’s not home yet?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes, but he’s in the cellar with a new one. Could be half an hour or more, we can’t disturb him.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘You picked a bad day,’ she said with a sigh. ‘New ones, always the way, big attraction. Then he gets tired of them and goes off looking for another.’
    ‘OK, yes,’ said Louis.
    ‘But this one, she might keep him busy an hour or more. He’s been looking out for one like this for ages, looks like he struck lucky. But don’t take offence.’
    ‘No, no.’
    ‘Good, you’re taking it well.’
    Louis helped himself to a second glass. She was the one who seemed to be taking it well. Rather reserved, but you could see why. He felt like helping her, keeping her company until her husband was through. Frankly, he couldn’t understand this scenario. Waiting, he’d found a piece of the jigsaw that seemed to fit into the left-hand part of the sky. He leaned forward and pushed it with his finger. She nodded and smiled, yes, that was right.
    ‘You can help me if you like. The sky’s always the worst bit in a puzzle, but you’ve got to do it.’
    Louis moved his chair and worked alongside her. He had nothing against jigsaw puzzles from time to time, though you didn’t want to overdo it.
    ‘You have to separate the midnight blue from the lighter blue,’ he said. ‘But why the cellar?’
    ‘That was at my insistence. The cellar or nothing. I don’t want all that going on inside the house, there are limits. I made conditions, because if he had his way, he’d have them upstairs. After all, the house is mine as well.’
    ‘Of course. Does this happen often?’
    ‘Fairly. Just depends.’
    ‘Where does he find them?’
    ‘Oh, look, that piece goes on your side. Where does he find them? Ah, yes, of course that would interest you. He just picks them up here and there, he has his regular haunts. He goes prospecting, and when he first brings them home, believe me, they don’t look like anything special. Nobody else would give them a second glance, but he’s got an eye for them. That’s