The Erasers

2

The latch clicks as it falls back into place; at the same time the door has just slammed against the jamb and vibrates noisily, producing unexpected echoes in the frame as well. But no sooner has it started than this tumult suddenly stops; in the calm of the street a faint whistle can then be heard-something like a jet of steam, thin and continuous-which probably comes from the factories opposite, but so dissolved in the air that no precise source could accurately be attributed to it-so faint, in fact, that it might be, after all, just a buzzing in the ears.

Garinati hestitates in front of the door he has just shut behind him. He does not know in which direction he will follow this street he is standing in the middle of, where on one side as on the other… How can Bona be so sure of Daniel Dupont’s death? There was not even any question of arguing about it. Yet the mistake-or the lie-in the morning papers is easily explained, and in any of several ways. Besides, no one, in so serious a matter, would be satisfied with that kind of information, and it is obvious that Bona either found out for himself or used some informant. Garinati, moreover, knows that his victim did not seem seriously hurt-that he had not, in any case, lost consciousness right away, and that it is unlikely he did so before help arrived. So then? Did the informants make a mistake? Maybe Bona does not always pay enough…

Garinati raises his hand to his right ear which he covers and releases several times; then he does the same thing to the other ear…His chief’s conviction still bothers him; he himself is not absolutely certain he only hit the professor on the arm; if the professor was seriously hurt, he might have been able to take a few steps to get away, guided by the instinct of self-preservation, and then collapsed later on…

Again Garinati covers his ears to get rid of that irritating noise. This time he uses both hands, which he keeps pressed close to each side of his head for a minute.

When he takes them away, the whistling noise has stopped. He begins walking, carefully, as if he were afraid of making the noise start again by some excessively lively movement. Maybe Wallas will give him a clue to the riddle. Doesn’t he have to find him anyway? He has been ordered to. That’s what he has to do.

But where to find him? And how to recognize him? He does not have any clues, and the city is a big one. Nevertheless he decides to head toward the center of town, which means he has to turn around.

After a few steps he again finds himself in front of the building he has just left. He raises his hand to his ear with irritation: will that damned machine never stop?