“Beetles?” Dufren asked, looking baffled. “For a new act?”
“No. I need pinned specimens.”
“I suppose I can manage that.”
Hector nodded. He hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult. There must be a market for collectors, and anything you could imagine could be purchased in Loisail. He grabbed the door, ready to open it, and paused.
“Mr. Dufren, not mere beetles. Get me precious specimens, pretty ones.”
“Pretty. Why… yes, Mr. Auvray. When do you want it?”
“As soon as you can. And I’ll need something else. The address for Lise and Linette Beaulieu,” he said.
“Very well.”
Two days later, Mr. Dufren ushered an old man into Hector’s dressing room. He came accompanied by an assistant who carried a large box, which they set on Hector’s desk. They opened the box and showed Hector the contents: a multicolored collection of beetles, carefully preserved and mounted. Azure, yellow, red specimens.
“Green,” he told them.
The men nodded and laid out green beetles until Hector paused over one that had a delicate metallic shimmer.
“I’ll purchase this,” he said.
The men nodded and began putting their specimens back in the box. Mr. Dufren waited patiently to escort them back outside. Hector, behind his desk, tapped his fingers against its surface, frowning.
“Twenty of them,” he said.
The men looked at Hector in confusion.
“I don’t need one beetle. I need twenty.”
“Twenty beetles like that?” the assistant asked.
“No. Nineteen more. The rarest specimens you have, if you must go back to your shop to get them, do so. Twenty total. Mr. Dufren, do you have that address I asked for? I want you to send this one beetle there. Find a box for it, will you?”
“Yes, of course. Gentlemen,” Dufren said, and motioned to the men.
A while later, Dufren returned and stood in front of Hector’s desk. He placed a box on the desk. Hector raised his head and nodded at his assistant, handing him his calling card.
“Please send it,” Hector said. “Tell the messenger it should be delivered into the hands of Nina Beaulieu.”
“Sir, shouldn’t you attach a note to this?”
“The card will be all. Please make sure those men bring me the beetles I need.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you need twenty beetles for?”
The question caught him by surprise. He had not consideredwhathe meant to do; it was all knitting itself together, a wild amalgam of thoughts coalescing into a single thread.
He wanted to make amends. He had no idea if it could be done but he wanted totry.She deserved it.
He’d been frozen in listlessness and self-pity for a long time now, andhe finally felt himself thawing, as if the spring and her presence had spurred him into action.
How strange,he thought.
“I forgot a lady’s birthday,” he said.
“You do realize it would be more appropriate to send flowers for a birthday, don’t you?” Dufren said with a sigh.
