Chapter 35
Gérard would have done anything to exorcize his rage after he left the Geniots.
He wanted to howl with anger, to dislodge, destroy, flush out the misery eating away at his soul.
The interview with the Geniots had been highly dramatic and full of revelations, but it had not gone according to plan.
He had the unpleasant feeling that things had gotten out of hand, and he was no longer in control of what might happen next.
He had pulled the pin out of a grenade that might still blow up in his face.
He had to get away. Without delay. Get his emotions under control, fight the impulse to do harm.
His mind was ablaze in a turmoil of resentment, a chaos of words and images, Nora’s body, her moans, her mouth twisted in pleasure, and the poison of jealousy that was flowing in his veins, tensing his muscles, clenching his jaw.
He picked up his pace; he had to get out of this street, away from the neighborhood. Far enough away so he wouldn’t give in to the urge. Calm down, somehow. He shouldn’t act on a whim.
He glanced at his watch and let out an expletive under his breath.
Mélanie was going to be furious. He had promised to be back by quarter to seven at the latest so she could leave.
He had his children to take care of. How was he going to make it through the evening?
Manage not to think about Nora alone at home, only a few steps from her lover?
He began to walk more slowly. Words and images flooded his mind, and his limbs felt as though they were struggling through thick molasses that kept him from moving forward.
He thought of Tiphaine, the murderous gleam in her eye, the hatred she must feel now toward Nora.
He stopped, his heart thudding with fear.
Nora didn’t stand a chance against Tiphaine, especially since she had no idea what had just happened.
If Tiphaine went around that evening with the idea of settling the score, Nora would open the front door and invite her in, without suspecting for a moment she was welcoming a spurned wife rather than a considerate neighbor.
He took out his phone and called Mélanie.
While it was ringing, he tried to figure out a convincing excuse.
He was still scrambling for what to say when he heard the secretary’s voice, so he said the first thing that came into his head: he was on his way, he just had one tiny thing to deal with, he wouldn’t be long.
Mélanie, well acquainted with her boss’s manipulative way with language, accurately assessed the situation. “Okay, I’ll feed the kids. But if you’re not back in an hour this is the last time I help you out.” She hung up.
The attorney grimaced shamefacedly and slipped his phone back into his pocket. A few seconds later, slightly out of breath, he was standing outside Nora’s house. He rang the bell and waited for her to answer.
When she opened the door he didn’t leave her time to invite him in. Wedging the file folder under one arm, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her inside, trying to explain as succinctly as possible what had just happened.
“Listen. There’s no time to be lost: a nuclear bomb has just exploded next door and you’re about to feel the shock waves.”
“What are you talking about?” said Nora, pulling away from his grasp. “Where are the children?”
“Listen to me. Your neighbor knows you’ve been sleeping with her husband, and let me tell you she won’t be bringing you homemade cookies anytime soon. Get your stuff, you’re coming home with me.”
“I hope you’re joking.”
Gérard suppressed a gesture of irritation.
“No, I’m not,” he said, trying to contain his fury.
“It took you no time at all, eh? You know, you didn’t need to leave me if all you wanted was to jump into bed with the first asshole who came along.
You could have just done it behind my back, it would have been easy, it’s not like I was ever home. ”
The slap came like a lightning bolt streaking across a stormy sky. Stunned, Gérard dropped the folder; it fell to the floor and slipped beneath the chest of drawers.
“What have you been telling Tiphaine?” Nora yelled, her eyes wide with fury.
“That’s exactly what your boyfriend said not even half an hour ago,” smirked Gérard, rubbing his cheek. “What is there to tell, I wonder?”
“Get out!” Nora shot him a furious look. She tried to slip past him to the open front door so she could stand there and tell him to leave, but as she tried to pass he blocked her way.
“Jesus, Nora, stop being such a fool! You don’t know what these people are capable of.”
“Oh yes, I forgot,” she said, with a contemptuous laugh. “So many potential psychopaths, isn’t that so?”
Gérard grabbed her wrists and forced her to look at him.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Nora. This is serious. You have to trust me.”
“Let go!”
Gérard was losing patience. He couldn’t find the words to convince her of the gravity of the situation.
His impotence, on top of his anger and resentment, were driving him crazy.
He had to make her understand that the two of them were in way over their heads, and that despite his jealousy he was doing this to protect her.
“Let go!” she shrieked. “Let go or I’ll scream!
” This was a little absurd, given she was already screaming.
She began to struggle, desperate to get away from him.
He held on, trying to get her to calm down and listen, but it had the opposite effect: the tighter his grip, the harder she fought to break free.
Realizing that he would get nowhere if he carried on like this, Gérard let go, hoping that way he could make her listen.
Free now, Nora tried once again to reach the front door, not to force her unwanted guest to leave, but to get away from him, to put as much distance between them as possible. Again, Gérard blocked her way.
Nora felt a jolt of panic as she realized he wasn’t going to give up.
Fear flooded her body. She was well acquainted with her husband’s pathological jealousy, fits of paranoia, and ability to hold a grudge.
She also knew the violence that these feelings triggered in him.
He could read the fear in her eyes, she couldn’t see anything anymore, was just trying to get away from him.
And all he was doing was trying to get her to listen.
He began to talk rapidly, to give her as much information as possible so she would understand how volatile the situation was, how it could turn nasty at any moment.
“Nora, for God’s sake, calm down! I’m just trying to get you to understand. They’re murderers, they’ve already killed once, they may even have killed Milo’s parents too. That Tiphaine woman, she’s . . .”
“Milo’s parents?” she yelled, almost hysterical now. “They are Milo’s parents. You’re losing your mind, Gérard!”
“No! That’s the whole point. You remember I told you about the guy who hanged himself? That was Milo’s father, he committed suicide in the house next door.”
“What absolute nonsense. You’re scaring me. Please, Gérard, I want you to leave.”
“You’re not safe here, you don’t know what she’s capable of. Come with—”
Before he could finish his sentence, she managed to slip away from him and darted to the front door.
Gérard let out a cry of frustration, then turned sharply and caught her in two strides.
He wasn’t in control of the situation, he didn’t know what to do; he was flustered and losing precious time, and his inability to get her to see reason was maddening.
He grabbed her by the arm and shook her.
“You have to understand you cannot stay here tonight. Not on your own. That woman is crazy. They lost a child eight years ago, and not long after they murdered Milo’s godfather, I’m almost certain of it. And I strongly suspect they had something to do with his parents’ double suicide as well.”
Nora wasn’t listening. Panicked, confused, scared stiff, she could only think of one thing: she had to get away from him.
She pushed past Gérard and raced up the stairs.
She heard his heavy, determined step following her; he was just a few steps behind, her heart was pounding harder and harder as he got closer and closer. Gérard kept shouting her name.
“Nora! Come back, goddammit! You should be afraid of them, not me!”
She was at the top of the stairs, out of breath from the climb and from fear. As Gérard got to the top of the stairs and put out an arm to her, Nora turned to him and saw she had lost. With an instinctive, desperate, defensive gesture, she pushed her husband with all her strength.
Gérard was standing at the top of the stairs.
Nora’s push destabilized him, he felt himself tipping backward, reacted too late, futilely waved his arms up and down .
. . and lost his balance. He fell back, hard, and broke his neck.
Shattered his spleen. Smashed several ribs, one of which perforated a lung.
Rolling to one side, he hit his head against the banister, then cracked his skull on the tiled floor of the entryway.
From the top of the stairs Nora, trembling from head to foot, stared down at Gérard’s lifeless body.