Syndrome E

4

Lucie was just finishing her coffee in the waiting room of Salengro Hospital when the attending physician in charge of Ludovic Sénéchal walked up to her. He was the tall, dark sort, with fine features and nice teeth, the kind of guy she might have crushed on in other circumstances. On his oversized scrubs she could read DR. L. TOURNELLE.

“So, Doctor?”

“No visible injuries, no scabs to indicate trauma. The ophthalmological tests didn’t show anything abnormal. Ocular mobility, retinal exam—it’s all good. His photomotor reflexes and pupil contraction are as they should be. That said, Ludovic Sénéchal can’t see a thing.”

“So then what’s wrong with him?”

“We’re going to run some more tests, especially an MRI to make sure he doesn’t have a brain tumor.”

“Can a tumor make you blind?”

“If it’s pressing on the optic nerve, sure.”

Lucie swallowed hard. Ludovic was no more than a memory, but even so they’d spent seven months of their lives together.

“Is it treatable?”

“It depends—on the size, the position, if it’s malignant or benign. I’d rather not say anything before we do the scan. You can go see your friend if you like. Room 208.”

The doctor gave her a firm handshake and quickly strode away. Lucie didn’t have the strength to take the stairs and instead waited for the elevator. Between the tears and the vomiting, her two sleepless nights in the pediatrics ward had drained her. Lucky that her mother was able to take over in the daytime so she could get some rest.

After knocking softly at the door, she entered Ludovic’s room. He was lying on his bed with a fixed stare. Lucie felt a lump in her throat. He hadn’t changed… Hairline receded a bit, of course, but he still had the features of the mature man with the soft, round face that had first made her fall for him on the Web.

“It’s Lucie…”

He turned toward her. His pupils didn’t look at her directly but instead aimed at the wall just beside her. Lucie shivered and rubbed her arms. Ludovic tried to smile.

“You can come closer—I’m not contagious.”

Lucie stepped forward and took his hand.

“It’ll be okay.”

“It’s funny I dialed your number, isn’t it? It could have been anybody.”

“It’s also funny that I happened to be in the neighborhood. At the moment, hospitals and I are old pals.”

She explained about Juliette. Ludovic had known the twins, who were very fond of him. Lucie felt nervous, thinking of the horror that might have been growing in the head of her ex.

“They’ll find what’s wrong.”

“I suppose they told you about the tumor?”

“It’s just a theory.”

“There is no tumor, Lucie. It’s because of the film.”

“What film?”

“The one with the little white circle. The one I found yesterday at a collector’s. It was…”

Lucie noticed his fingers clutching the sheets.

“It was weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird enough to make me lose my sight, for Christ’s sake!”

He had shouted. Now he was trembling. He felt around him and gripped his visitor’s hand.

“I’m sure it was this film the owner was looking for in his attic. He broke his skull as he was climbing the ladder. Something must have… I don’t know, made him need to climb up those steep rungs to watch it.”

Lucie sensed he was on the verge of a breakdown. She hated seeing friends or loved ones in distress.

“Why don’t I have a look at this film?”

He shook his head energetically.

“No, no. I don’t want you to—”

“What, go blind? Can you tell me how simple images projected on a screen can make me blind?”

No answer.

“Is the reel still on the projector?”

After a silence, Ludovic finally gave in.

“Yes. You just have to follow a few steps, the way I showed you. Do you remember?”

“Yes—with A Touch of Evil, I think.”

“Touch of Evil… Orson Welles…”

He sank into a pained sigh. Tears had run down his cheeks. He pointed a finger at the void.

“My wallet must be on the nightstand. There are some business cards inside. Take the one with the name Claude Poignet. He restores old films, and I want you to bring him the reel. I want him to look it over, all right? I want to know where that footage comes from. And take the want ad—it has the name and address of the collector’s son. Luc Szpilman.”

“What do you want me to do with it?”

“Take it… take it all. You want to help me? Then help me, Lucie.”

Lucie let out a silent sigh. She opened the wallet and took out the card and newspaper ad.

“Okay, done.”

He seemed more at peace. He was now sitting up, feet resting on the floor.

“Aside from all this, Lucie, how are you?”

“Same old, same old. Still just as many murders and assaults. No danger of running out of work in the police.”

“I meant you, not the job.”

“Me? Oh, well…”

“Skip it. We’ll talk later.”

He held out the keys to his house and tightly squeezed her wrist. Lucie shivered when he stared straight into her eyes, his face mere inches from hers.

“Watch out for that film.”