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have searched my memory, that these gifts of patience and foresight were most often employed in the quest for vain amusement. Bernard Martin’s only passion seemed to be to solve some current problem, whatever it might have been, and once he had done so, he immediately lost interest in the work or the game he had managed to master. When he was a young boy, he learned English in three months, all by himself, using only a dictionary, as the result of a bet with one of his classmates. Having reached a certain level of competence in the language, he suddenly stopped studying it and never again said a single word in English. A born mathematician, one of the best in my class, hewas accepted at university, as I had predicted, doubtlessly still motivated by the same perverse curiosity and keen ambition that I found he had at the age of twelve. It was very difficult to influence him. He was the kind of boy who could not be improved by mixing with the right people, or corrupted by a bad crowd. He seemed to live according to his own laws and to obey only his own code of conduct.
    ‘He had modest tastes, even displaying a certain leaning towards asceticism, and he was extremely ambitious; the role of the affectionate lover of a wealthy woman seems totally out of character for him. He must surely have been seduced by the status of a woman in high society: he suffered because of the obscure nature of his birth and wished to make his way in the world.
    ‘I deplore the tragedy that cost him his life, for I always believed the boy to have a promising future.’
    ‘Bring in the next witness.’
    It was a young lad of about twenty who looked as if he came from the east Mediterranean. His black hair was badly cut and he had a dry face that seemed very emotional. He spoke quickly, mumbling a bit, embarrassed no doubt by his foreign accent.
    ‘State your name.’
    ‘Constantin Slotis.’
    ‘Age?’
    ‘Twenty.’
    ‘Your address?’
    ‘6 rue des Fossés-Saint-Jacques.’
    ‘Profession?’
    ‘Medical student.’
    ‘You are neither related to nor a friend of the accused. You do not work for her nor does she work for you. Do you swear to speak without prejudice and with no fear of telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Raise your hand and say, “I so do swear.” Did you know Bernard Martin?’
    ‘We were neighbours.’
    ‘Did he ever confide in you?’
    ‘Never. He wasn’t the type. He never talked much.’
    ‘What type of man was he, in your opinion?’
    ‘Sarcastic, violent, not very sociable. We had some friends in common, men and women. Everyone will tell you the same thing.’
    ‘Did he have financial problems?’
    ‘We all did. What I mean, Your Honour, is that in the Latin Quarter we live fairly well from the first day of the month to the fifth, but that’s about it.’
    ‘Did he ever borrow money from you?’
    ‘No, but he would have had a hard time doing it. You don’t go looking for water in a dry river, as the saying goes where I come from.’
    ‘Did you have the impression that his financial resources had increased shortly before his death?’
    ‘No, Your Honour.’
    ‘Did you ever meet the defendant when she visited Bernard Martin at his home?’
    ‘I only saw her once, on 13 October 1934.’
    ‘Your recollection seems very precise!’
    ‘I had an exam the next day and the perfume the woman wore was so strong that I could smell it through my door. It prevented me from working. The next day I got a verybad mark. That’s why I remember the circumstances so well.’
    The people in the courtroom started laughing.
    ‘When she left,’ Slotis continued, ‘well, I opened my door to get a look at her. She was very beautiful. That’s her all right.’
    ‘Did she remain at your friend’s very long?’
    ‘Half an hour.’
    ‘Did you ever speak to Bernard Martin about her visit?’
    ‘Yes. I ran into him that same evening at a bordello on the rue Vavin. We were a little drunk, I