One warm evening in August, there was a new visitor at Rose’s, someone Ari had not seen there before, but who was brought by an habitué; he had sat there very quietly until almost everyone had left. Rose was getting tired and wanted to go to bed, and was half-heartedly clearing away the debris of the evening. Out of the blue, the shabby man who introduced himself as Raoul Faron bluntly asked Ari if he was the person who was asking questions about Dubois.
‘Why do you ask?’ asked Ari cautiously.
‘My brother Eduard was in a labour camp during the war. He is dying in hospital from lung cancer and wants to talk to you. He needs to get something off his chest and he won’t tell me.’
Ari felt a jab of fear. ‘How did he hear about me?’ He didn’t realise he’d been so transparent. If a patient in hospital knew about him, so would any other enquirer be able to find him. But the man’s next words re-assured him.
‘Old Pantin, you know, Rose’s friend, you have met him here I believe. He was visiting my brother. Pantin told Eduard that you might care to hear his story. He has noticed that you are always interested in yarns about the war years. Mind you, Eduard wouldn’t even tell Pantin anything. I’ll take you to him on Sunday afternoon if you like.’