"The Poe Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pearl Matthew)

19

"MONSIEUR DUPONTE, I must ask something at once."

I said this after one of our many recent silent suppers in the large rectangular dining room of Glen Eliza.

Duponte nodded.

I continued. "When the Baron holds his lecture on Poe's death, it may irrevocably pollute the truth. Perhaps, when he delivers his speech, I should cause some distraction to him outside the hall, and you could claim the stage and reveal the truth to the people!"

"No, monsieur," said Duponte, shaking his head. "We shall do nothing of the kind. There is more here than you realize."

I nodded sadly, and did not touch another morsel of food. That had been my experiment. Duponte had failed. He went on with his undisturbed silence.

I was entirely absorbed in distraction. To my visible displeasure, the dronish fellows who were overseeing some of my father's investments came to the door and I sent them away at once. I could not think about numbers and annual accounts.

"The Purloined Letter": the second sequel to "The Murders in the

Rue Morgue." That's what I was thinking about with such a wistful air. C. Auguste Dupin has discovered the secret location of the letter stolen by Minister D--, hidden most ingeniously by being placed right in front of everyone's eyes. It was the ordinary aspect of the spot that eluded all but one man. The analyst uses an unnamed collaborator to fire a gun in the street and raise a commotion. The collaborator's distraction allows C. Auguste Dupin to retrieve the letter, and put a false one in its place.

I relate this to bring out a point. C. Auguste Dupin trusts his collaborator there; and, besides, puts increasingly great trust in the work of his faithful assistant in all of Poe's Dupin trilogy.

Yet Auguste Duponte, my own companion, hardly gave credence to my role as collaborator and quietly dismissed my numerous ideas and suggestions, whether it was questioning Henry Reynolds, for which he made a mockery of me, or my latest design regarding the disruption of the Baron's lecture. On the other hand, Baron Dupin in all he endeavored constantly favored employing accomplices!

Then there was the interesting fact to consider of Baron Dupin's gift for disguises and alterations. A similarity might be noted, that the literary Dupin uses his green spectacles as another way to dupe his brilliant opponent, Minister D--, in "The Purloined Letter."

And how about Baron Dupin's profession as a lawyer? I had begun in the last few days to underline certain lines in the trilogy. "The Mystery of Marie Rogêt" implies to the careful reader, in certain key passages, that C. Auguste Dupin was deeply acquainted with the law, perhaps hinting for us at his past practice as a lawyer. Like Baron Dupin.

Then there is that initial, so uninteresting to the uninformed eye: C. Auguste Dupin. C. Dupin. Could it not remind the reader of one Claude Dupin? And is not Poe's character of the genius analyst known by the time of the second tale by the dignified title of "Chevalier"? Chevalier C. Auguste Dupin. Baron C. Dupin.

"But what of the Baron Dupin's cold penchant for money?" I asked myself. Alas, recall that C. Auguste Dupin profits monetarily, and most deliberately, from the employment of his skills in each of the three tales!

Above all, here was the Baron Claude Dupin confronting Snodgrass, boldly denying the notion of Poe expiring through a disgraceful debauch. While on that same day in Glen Eliza Auguste Duponte was allowing for the merits of that shameful position. His nonchalant comment about Poe's drinking resounded in my mind again and again until bitterness and regret reigned over me. "I had never said he had not."

I acknowledged the seeds of my idea and allowed it to germinate: what if the Baron Dupin, all this time, were the real Dupin. And would not Poe have enjoyed this jolly, philosophical, hoaxing rogue, who had so thrilled and plagued me? Poe had written in a letter to me that the Dupin tales were ingenious not just for their method but their "air of method." Didn't the Baron understand the importance of appearance in gaining the awe of those around him, whereas Duponte ignored and alienated to no end? What a great, strange relief these thoughts suddenly provided me. I had miscalculated all along.

Though it was late at night when these ideas culminated in me, I descended the stairs soundlessly and stole out of Glen Eliza. I reached the Baron Dupin's hotel room a half hour late and stood at the door. I was breathing deeply, too deeply, my breathing an echo of my frantic thoughts. I knocked, too exhilarated and fearful to be articulate. There was a rustle from the other side of the door.

"I've possibly been mistaken," I said softly. "Some words, please, just a few moments." I looked behind me to make sure I had not been followed.

The room door nudged opened, and I put my foot in front of it.

I knew I would have only a brief hearing to state my position. "Baron Dupin, please! I believe we must speak at once. I believe-I know you are the one."