Fatale Read Online Free PDF

twenty-five years younger than Lorque. One sensed that she took very good care of herself. Physically, she was like an aging starlet seeking desperately to preserve her beauty capital. That being said, she seemed neither highly strung nor stupid. She and Christiane Moutet invited Aimée to play bridge one day soon at the Moutets. Aimée accepted, then asked where she might powder her nose. They told her. She left the reception room and went up the grand staircase to the second floor. She was on the qui vive.
    On the second floor was a long bronze-green hallway punctuated by white-painted doorways and reproductions of plates from the Encyclopédie of Diderot et al. depicting dock and industrial operations. No sound emerged from behind the white doors. Nor could anything be heard from the ground floor, thanks to the very thick walls and floors.
    Near the door to the toilets was a settee with bronze-green upholstery. Aimée sat on it for a moment’s pause. She needed a clear mind to process the information she had just acquired.
    But at that instant Baron Jules emerged from the bathroom with his male member in his hand, crossed the corridor, and began to urinate against the wall just below an industrial print.

6
    â€œF UCK ! That feels good!” cried the baron once.
    He had not seen Aimée, who was sitting motionless on the settee. The urine could be heard continuously battering the wallpaper. A dark puddle was forming on the bronze-green carpet between the two booted legs of this interloper. The man was tall, with a slight paunch, wearing jodhpurs and a brick-colored, roll-neck sweater that was too big for him and darned in several spots. He had a large pink head with a big nose and pale gray eyes and a tangled mass of graying platinum-blond hair. He must have been over fifty. He turned his head and saw Aimée.
    â€œHell’s bells! A lady!” he remarked.
    He turned towards her, still buttoning his fly.
    â€œLet me introduce myself,” he said. “Baron Jules. I must assure you that I am not in the habit of pissing on the floor in the presence of members of the fair sex. All hail beauty!” He shouted the last words. “Respect for the ladies!” He seemed to be calming down. “The fact is,” he went on in a worldly tone, “that I have been holding it in since this morning, when I was released from the psychiatric clinic. I was saving it for the carpet of that fat Lorque, you see what I mean?”
    Aimée nodded, nonplussed but hardly bothered.
    â€œYou don’t see at all!” exclaimed Baron Jules. “You are a stranger to all this, and young! And very desirable, I might add, even though I prefer a little bit more flesh on the bone.”
    â€œIs that so?” said Aimée.
    The baron smiled at her.
    â€œ YOU SHOULD EAT YOUR SOUP !” he shouted as loudly as he could.
    Because of the noise, or by chance, the white door of a bedroom about ten meters away opened. Dr. Sinistrat and Mme Lenverguez looked out wide-eyed. They were holding hands. The hair of the blonde woman with the pale eyes was all awry and the doctor’s tie was askew. The blonde’s mouth formed an O and her face crinkled with embarrassment when she saw Aimée and the baron in the passageway. The baron smiled and bore down on the couple.
    â€œAha! Aha!” he whooped. “Adulterous little piglets!”
    â€œCome now,” said Sinistrat. “Come on, Baron, really...”
    Mme Lenverguez emitted a mouselike squeak and fled for the stairs. Sinistrat stood his ground before the baron with arms bent and palms facing forward, as though seeking to halt, or merely perhaps to talk with him.
    â€œAha!” said the baron again with gleeful scorn. “She’s in a funk. She’s running away, the skinny bitch!”
    â€œBaron Jules,” said Sinistrat, “I must tell you—”
    The baron grabbed the doctor by the lapels and shook him in a rather