Daisy and Bernard (The Blind Sleuth Mysteries 3)

Chapter 18

Daisy was working at the kitchen table of her basement flat, with a bouquet in a vase in front of her. She fingered the flowers and the leaves, stuck her nose in to smell them, and then she went on modelling a representation of the bouquet with tiny pieces of softened beeswax. In the flower shop at the Tube station, where she'd bought it, she'd asked the sales girl to describe it to her. "I want you to wax lyrical, you understand: just try to explain to a blind person like me why people find a bouquet like this so appealing..." The girl had giggled, but she'd done her best, and she'd made a good enough job of it. Daisy had thanked her and given her a tip. Now the idea was to create a tactile representation of all these impressions. "Maybe I'll become a real impressionist!" she told herself.

The chimes rang out, and after turning down the radio and putting on her dark glasses, Daisy went to the door. It was already late; who could it be at this hour? There was a man standing there, who didn't say a word and who smelled like he was wearing a uniform of some sort. Only not a military or a police uniform this time. Those she could identify plainly by now. This man was less... crisp; he lacked the professional discipline, he didn't have his uniform cleaned as often as his military or police colleagues...

"Are you a cab driver? From a company?"

"Yes! you've got it in one. Incredible! Mr Thistlehurst told me you would figure it out."

"Is Bernard with you in the cab?"

"No. He sent me to take you to his place, if you please. He wants me to tell you that the bronze sculpture has arrived, and that he would be much obliged if you would come and inspect it."

"All right. Just a second, I'll be with you in a moment."

Bernard said, "I heard from a colleague at your local police station that you were back home. I take it that you got my message from your son?"

"Yes, yes, thank you. Brilliant way to get in touch with me!"

"Collins's idea entirely. He sends his regards by the way... Now, the bronze cast of your sculpture arrived, and I thought you might want to inspect it. I'm not even sure if it's mine to keep. I paid the foundry of course, but how about the artist?"

"The bronze is yours, Bernard. No charge from the artist. And they already returned the plaster master cast to me, so everything is settled..."

They moved over to a low table in the hall, facing the front door of the flat. Daisy whipped a pair of surgical gloves out of her handbag and put them on. As she started prodding the cast of her work with competent fingers, Bernard said to her, "I put it here so that my portrait is the first thing I see when I get home."

"Nice thought, Bernard... So you like it now? You don't find it disturbing anymore?"

"Oh no! I love this strapping, mature man with the barely perceptible smile on his lips, looking at the world's follies with a forgiving glance in his wise eyes... Your original goal has been achieved, my dear. This is how I like to see myself in my mind's eye, when I'm not looking in the mirror."

"Yes, well, don't forget that every criminal you've ever met saw himself as an innocent..."

"Thank you for reminding me. But still, it doesn't happen often that someone else manages to see you the way you see yourself. You went to an awful lot of trouble on my behalf and succeeded in doing just that..."

Daisy didn't answer at first, then after a while she took off her gloves and said, "The foundry did an outstanding job as well. I'm always thrilled when I touch a bronze version of my work for the first time... There's something magic about the whole process."