Hunting for Silence

12. Investigating

'Err...what did you just tell her?'

Claudette gave me a bright smile. 'I told her that we appreciate her honesty and cooperation, of course.'

'Of course you did.'

I asked the lady a few more questions, and Claudette translated (hopefully) faithfully, although I had the niggling suspicion that she tagged on a few less than complimentary remarks here and there. But who was I to prevent people from insulting each other? I was a firm proponent of freedom of speech, after all, as long as that didn't include beating someone to death with a volume of famous speeches.

One after the other, more members of the opera staff filed in, and with each and every one, the proceedings went more or less the same. I'd ask if they had put the snake into Claudette's changing room, and the answer would be...

Well, let me just give you a few examples.

'Pourquoi utiliser un seul serpent? Et qui n'est pas toxique? Cela n'a aucun sens!'

'Why would I use just one snake?' Claudette translated, nodding approvingly. 'And one sat isn't poisonous? Sat does not make any sense! You know...she's quite right, actually. If I'd gone for snakes, I'd 'ave used more than one, certainment.'

Or, the next one:

'Un serpent d'Amérique du Sud? Pourquoi d'Amérique du Sud? Mon cousin Monique a utilisé un serpent local lorsque son mari était grossier, et cela a bien fonctionné pour elle, pour juger par la taille de son pied. Comment oses-tu suggérer que je serais tellement antipatérique que d'utiliser un serpent étranger? Vive la France et notre roi Louis Philippe!'

'A snake from South America?' Claudette translated. 'Why from South America? My cousin Monique used a local snake when her husband was being rough, and it worked perfectly fine for her, to judge by the size his foot swelled to. How dare you suggest I'd be so unpatriotic as to use a foreign snake? Long live France and our king Louis Philippe!'

And finally, my favourite:

'Mettre un serpent dans le vestiaire de la prima donna? Je ne ferais jamais une telle chose! J'aimerais faire un carot à la tête, peindre son argent et lui faire jouer une licorne sur scène. Non, ce que je voudrais faire est de coller une carotte à la tête, de peindre son argent et de faire jouer une licorne sur scène devant tout le monde'

'Put a snake in the prima donna's dressing room? I would never do such a thing! No, what I would like to do is glue a carrot to her head, paint her silver and make her play a unicorn on stage in front of everyo...really?' Breaking off, Claudette turned to the vindictively grinning, middle-aged janitor that sat facing us. 'Sat's the best you can sink of, Francois? You need to sink of somesin' a lot better if you want to get back at me because of the incident with se brooms, mon amis!'

At the end of a very long morning, I sagged back in my chair and stared at Claudette.

'Does anyone in this place not want to see you dead?'

'The mice under the floor?' she suggested, as if she wasn't entirely sure about them.

'I don't quite understand. How have you managed to get this many enemies? Do you have some nefarious alter ego that I have yet to meet?'

The prima donna gave a soft laugh, and looked at me with a mixture of pity and fondness. 'Oh, my dear Monsieur Linton, you don't actually sink sat sis has anythin' to do with 'ow I behave or w'o I am inside, do you?'

'It doesn't?'

'Of course not! I am se prima donna! Everybody wants me out of se way. Sey want my job, or sey want revenge for my taking se job from them, or from their mother, cousin, daughter, grand-niece twice removed...you take your pick.'