Read Online The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau by Graeme Macrae Burnet - Free Book Online Page A

Baumann,’ she said and left the room. Manfred had told her that she could call him by his first name when they were alone in his office, but she never did.
    At lunch Manfred had the special, as he always did on Mondays. He was anxious to stick to his routine from now on. There would be no repeat of his erratic actions of the previous week – the second glass of wine, the changing of his order, hisridiculous comment about Adèle’s appearance. From now on he must avoid attracting attention to himself. He must not give people cause to think that he had been behaving oddly.
    A new waitress was working the tables by the window. She was small and skinny and kept her short hair neatly secured in a clasp. She moved hurriedly between the tables and kitchen, and looked constantly as if she was about to drop the plates she was carrying or upset some glasses. Manfred did his best to avert his eyes from her.
    Marie arrived at his table and took his order. She looked a little tired.
    â€˜Terrible business,’ she said.
    â€˜I’m sure it’ll turn out to be nothing,’ said Manfred.
    Marie frowned. ‘That cop doesn’t seem to think so,’ she said. ‘Seems that someone saw Adèle with a man on a motorbike the night she disappeared.’
    Manfred pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He didn’t know what to say. ‘Do they know who he is, this man?’ he said eventually.
    â€˜That cop has been in here asking questions,’ she said. ‘He seemed to think it was significant.’
    â€˜I daresay,’ said Manfred.
    He ate his soup in silence, absentmindedly turning the pages of his newspaper. He shouldn’t have mentioned a boyfriend to Carolyn. It made it seem as if he had foreknowledge of the development, which of course he had. He should learn to keep his mouth shut. The atmosphere in the restaurant was subdued. Pasteur lurked behind his counter. Manfred wondered if he was surreptitiously watching him, keeping an eye on him to see if he was acting strangely. Gorski must have spoken to everyone at the restaurant. The thought made him uneasy.
    Marie brought his
Pôtée Marocaine
. He had finished his wine, but he resisted the desire to order another, instead pouring himself a glass of water from the carafe on the table. The
Pôtée Marocaine
consisted of a pile of couscous, a
merguez
sausage, achicken leg and piece of indeterminate meat, served with a dish of sharp sauce. Manfred saw Pasteur nod a greeting towards the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Gorski had come in. He walked over to the bar and shook hands with Pasteur over the counter. There seemed to be some kind of understanding between them. Marie hovered by the hatch as the two men engaged in a brief conversation. Gorski turned, Manfred thought, to leave, but instead threaded his way through the tables to where he was sitting. It was clear he had known that Manfred would be here.
    He stood with his hands on the back of the chair opposite Manfred and smiled a humourless greeting.
    â€˜Mind if I join you?’ he said.
    Manfred spread his palm towards the empty chair to indicate that he did not object. He could hardly refuse. Gorski took off his raincoat and folded it across his lap as he took his seat. This suggested, to Manfred’s relief, that he did not intend to stay long, or at least that it was not his intention to order lunch. Manfred looked past Gorski’s shoulder towards the counter. Marie had disappeared into the kitchen and Pasteur was conspicuously polishing glasses, even though for the previous fifteen minutes or so he had been standing around doing next to nothing.
    â€˜Don’t let me interrupt your lunch,’ Gorski said.
    Manfred had laid down his cutlery. He disliked dining in company. Gorski made no pretence of being surprised to find Manfred here, that it was somehow serendipitous.
    â€˜Something was puzzling me,’ he began, ‘I was hoping that