Caleb Lawson looked at me with annoyance.
“You need authorization to speak. And I don’t feel like giving it to you. We already know what you’re going to say: he’s innocent, he’s free of all guilt and responsibility, and so on, and etcetera.”
Arzaky had collapsed into a chair, and he looked at me strangely. I avoided his eyes and said, “I’m going to talk to someone. If it isn’t with you, it’ll be with the press.”
I had spoken loudly, and those who were already at the stairs now headed back into the room.
“Could you possibly have something new to add to what Arzaky said?” asked Magrelli. “Something we haven’t heard? Or will this be a conference on your vast experience in the world of crime?”
“I want to explain the truth as I see it.”
“Go ahead and talk already,” said Madorakis. “But keep it short. If we let one assistant prattle on, soon they’ll all want to do the same.”
“Even Tamayak,” said Caleb Lawson.
Everyone looked at Arzaky. His opinion was the only one that mattered.
“I don’t know what secrets my assistant is keeping, and his speaking without asking my permission is completely out of line. But what does it matter! I was about to fire him anyway.”
Everyone responded with forced laughter. My intervention, when everything had already been wrapped up, was the detectives’ worst fear realized. Each time a case was closed, after laying out the solution rationally and convincingly, they always dreaded the appearance of something (an object, a witness, a detail that didn’t fit) that could spoil the whole conclusion.
It was difficult for me to speak above the whispering.
“I arrived in Paris with two things for Arzaky: Craig’s cane and a message. The message was a story that I won’t tell here. Arzaky was generous enough to take me on as his assistant, especially considering that I was a novice and could hardly be expected to replace Tanner, one of the most respected of the acolytes. It was an honor for me to occupy his post. Which is why now, as I speak, I feel that I am betraying Arzaky and Craig and The Twelve Detectives. However, I must. I wasn’t affected by Darbon’s death, I had barely met him. And I couldn’t care less if all the corpses in Paris were burned. But the Mermaid’s death is something which I can’t bear, and which I’ll never forget as long as I live.
“I felt that I wasn’t getting anywhere with this case. When I saw the truth it came to me in one momentous flash. So I don’t think I owe the solution to my skill, but just to luck. To bad luck, I should say, because I would rather continue blindly. It happened this way: Arzaky knew, because of something I unwittingly conveyed to him, that this, your world, was crumbling and that soon there would be no trace left of The Twelve Detectives. He thought up a plan that would restore the world’s trust in the detectives and their methods and at the same time get rid of his enemies. He killed Darbon, his competitor, and he killed the Mermaid, who had been his lover but had been unfaithful to him with Grialet. In solving the crimes, he would also do away with Grialet. And, at the same time, he would ensure his own glory by solving a crime in front of all the other detectives. His feat would not be forgotten. It was like founding The Twelve Detectives all over again.”
Lawson, who had been wanting to take Arzaky’s place at the core of The Twelve, was now poised to defend him.
“No one is ever going to forget what you just said either. Get him out of this room!”
“No!” shouted Madorakis. “Let him continue. Someone is speaking to us through him.”
The whispering had stopped. Now they definitely wanted to hear what I had to say.
“In this room several models of the perfect enigma were presented. Castelvetia spoke of jigsaw puzzles, and I’m inclined to believe that common image best fits the spirit of the enigma. Magrelli spoke of Arcimboldo’s paintings, which abruptly change depending on the perspective of the viewer. Madorakis set forth the image of the sphinx, who questions us as we question it. And Hatter offered Aladdin’s blackboard, the toy that holds a trace of the words etched deepest even when everything has been erased, like our memory holds on to distant facts. But there was also another theory proposed….”
“By Sakawa,” recalled Rojo.
“Sakawa, the detective from Tokyo, spoke of a blank page. And Arzaky agreed with him. The enigma, the best enigma, is a blank page. He who reads it, he who deciphers it, is the true architect of the crime. Arzaky had his perfect enigma.”
Everyone waited for Arzaky to speak. Seated, but no longer slumped, and looking as if he were preparing to leap all over me, Arzaky smiled.
“Throw him out!” shouted Magrelli, his voice cracking with emotion. Other voices chimed in to banish me. But Arzaky stood up to calm everyone down.
“We’ll take for granted that all this is a figment of your youthful imagination. But, by any chance, did that imagination of yours lead you to fabricate some evidence?”
I spoke without looking at Arzaky.
“I’m the son of a shoemaker. My father gave me a cream that leaves boots shinier than any other polish; it’s water resistant. I shined Arzaky’s boots myself.”
I showed the handkerchief that had been kissed by the Mermaid’s dead lips.
“When Arzaky went to see the Mermaid, she knew that he was going to kill her. She threw herself at his feet, she begged him, she kissed his boots. And she did it on purpose, because she knew that the mark would be left on her lips. That kiss sealed Arzaky’s fate. That is the evidence. I studied the substance under Darbon’s microscope.”
I held up the handkerchief with the kiss left by the Mermaid’s lifeless lips.
Magrelli slapped Arzaky’s back.
“Come on, Viktor. Is this monologue from your disciple another one of your jokes? Are we supposed to applaud him as well? Deny it once and for all, and get him out of this room! We have a lot of things to discuss before we leave.”
Arzaky approached me. It was perhaps the most important moment of my life, but if I had a choice I’d rather have been in bed with a pillow over my head. And everyone else would have preferred that too. Now, I thought, is when Arzaky will raise an accusing finger. Here comes the moment where the new guy, the upstart, is unmasked. The boldness they pretended to tolerate will no longer be forgiven.
But Arzaky’s silence continued. It lasted for a few minutes, and during that time the faces that were red with rage grew pale, and there were no more angry gestures. Everyone was stock-still and silent, like students awaiting an exam. Magrelli looked as if he was about to cry.
Finally, Arzaky spoke. “I don’t expect any kind of pardon. Now I’ll leave, and you’ll never hear from me again. The boy is right, he saw the truth, and he was the first one to see it, because he was close to Craig, because he was a witness to Craig’s downfall. We are lost; we have been for a while. We try in vain to apply our method to an increasingly chaotic world; we need organized criminals in order for our theories to bear fruit, but all we find is endless, unruly evil. Did Darbon solve the railroad crimes? Did I? Did Magrelli put a stop to the priest murders in Florence? Did Caleb Lawson catch Jack the Ripper? We have some minor achievements, but they can’t compete with the big cases. Sometimes even the police are more adept than we are. We needed a case that had symmetry, a case that would restore faith in the method. I realized that we could no longer count on the murderers for that. I crossed the line, as many of you have wanted to do. I am the bastard child of a priest, which is why I wasn’t baptized. I chose my own baptism with the oil of the catechumen, with fire and water….”
“But the Mermaid…How could you?” I asked. “She was so lovely….”
“And you think that beauty is an obstacle to murder? Beauty is murder’s great inspiration, even more than money.”
Arzaky turned his eyes away from me and toward the detectives and the assistants. They were all motionless, except for one, who was rushing up the stairs to leave the hotel. It was Arthur Neska.
“All I ask for is fifteen minutes before you report me to Bazeldin. I know where to hide. I’ll leave, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
No one said yes, but no one objected either. Detectives and assistants stepped aside so he could leave. Arzaky began to climb the stairs with large strides. But he wasn’t in any hurry; he looked as if he had all the time in the world.
I wanted to follow him, but Magrelli stopped me.
“Leave him alone. You’ve done enough damage already.”
I tried to escape his grasp, but the Roman, with the help of Baldone, pushed me against one of the glass display cases. The door swung open from the impact. Someone had forced the lock. I turned my attention from Magrelli to focus instead on an empty shelf. Before I had time to remember which object had been stolen, the Eye of Rome said, “Novarius’s Remington.”
The Italian released me. I ran after Arzaky.