The Cathedral Thief
Of Mysteries, Questions and Doubts
After Vernoux had left, I turned to Damien as soon as I could find him. I was hoping to find, if not an explanation, at least some advice on what I was supposed to do. I found neither one, nor the other. It was hard to get Damien to talk nowadays, and I couldn’t help but establish a relation between that, and the recurring appearances of the police inspector. But Damien refused to talk, so what could I do? And Stéphane Vernoux had succeeded in what had been his intention. Even after all that had happened, all that Damien had given me, his time, his trust, his precious guidance through the maze of streets that was Paris, and most of all his wonderful ability to listen and understand what I was going through, despite all of that, Stéphane Vernoux had managed to plant the seeds of doubt in my head, and doubt was growing, and I was beginning to wonder.
I wondered what Damien did, during the days on end that we would not see him. I wondered where he went when he left in the dead of night. And I swear that I had not been spying, I just happened to be awake to witness it one night. I wondered what the meaning behind his dark and dead look sometimes would be.
And I didn’t want to doubt him, because he was everything to me, the best friend that I had ever had, the only adult that was paying attention to what I was really thinking and feeling, the first boy I was really taking an interest in. Damien Sorel was Paris to me. The two of them would forever be linked. He was the elegance of the fashionable streets, the grandeur of Notre-Dame, the secrets and mysteries of the more popular neighborhoods. He was all of that. He was the one who had made me see the beauty in a city that might have terrified me otherwise. I didn’t want to jeopardize that simply because of the inventions of a deranged police inspector.
But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help doubting like I couldn’t help being afraid when Vernoux was around.
“Why, why is he always there?” I mumbled, taking my head in my hands after I had just spotted him once more, and had gone to Damien to complain.
Damien looked at me, eyebrows raised, and sighed. “Why can’t you leave it be, Sophie?” he said. He tried to hide it, but I was not stupid, I could see that he was annoyed by how much Vernoux’s recurring appearances bothered me.
“Because he worries me,” I cried out. “And because he scares me. I don’t understand what it is that he wants.”
“Just don’t pay attention to him…”
“But I can’t. What is it that he’s got against you? Why is he so obsessed by you?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing Sophie, you should know that.”
“There has to be something. He can’t have decided to make you his victim just like that.”
“Stop asking questions Sophie,” Damien said darkly.
“Why? What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“There’s nothing. There’s absolutely nothing, and I don’t understand why you’re so concerned.”
“I’m sure that there is something…”
Damien shook his head and refused to say more.
And then things changed for me. Everything changed. Because I now knew that Damien Sorel indeed had a secret, and I would damned if I didn’t find out what it was.
I wondered what Damien did, during the days on end that we would not see him. I wondered where he went when he left in the dead of night. And I swear that I had not been spying, I just happened to be awake to witness it one night. I wondered what the meaning behind his dark and dead look sometimes would be.
And I didn’t want to doubt him, because he was everything to me, the best friend that I had ever had, the only adult that was paying attention to what I was really thinking and feeling, the first boy I was really taking an interest in. Damien Sorel was Paris to me. The two of them would forever be linked. He was the elegance of the fashionable streets, the grandeur of Notre-Dame, the secrets and mysteries of the more popular neighborhoods. He was all of that. He was the one who had made me see the beauty in a city that might have terrified me otherwise. I didn’t want to jeopardize that simply because of the inventions of a deranged police inspector.
But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help doubting like I couldn’t help being afraid when Vernoux was around.
“Why, why is he always there?” I mumbled, taking my head in my hands after I had just spotted him once more, and had gone to Damien to complain.
Damien looked at me, eyebrows raised, and sighed. “Why can’t you leave it be, Sophie?” he said. He tried to hide it, but I was not stupid, I could see that he was annoyed by how much Vernoux’s recurring appearances bothered me.
“Because he worries me,” I cried out. “And because he scares me. I don’t understand what it is that he wants.”
“Just don’t pay attention to him…”
“But I can’t. What is it that he’s got against you? Why is he so obsessed by you?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing Sophie, you should know that.”
“There has to be something. He can’t have decided to make you his victim just like that.”
“Stop asking questions Sophie,” Damien said darkly.
“Why? What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“There’s nothing. There’s absolutely nothing, and I don’t understand why you’re so concerned.”
“I’m sure that there is something…”
Damien shook his head and refused to say more.
And then things changed for me. Everything changed. Because I now knew that Damien Sorel indeed had a secret, and I would damned if I didn’t find out what it was.