This Monstrous Thing(43)

“You came from Geneva with Geisler?” I asked, and she nodded. “So you were with him when he fled.”

“No, after he was arrested I hid out in Ornex for a while. We met up there after his escape and came straight here.”

“Oh.” The knot that had been forming in my chest loosened. She hadn’t been with Geisler the night he left the city, so she couldn’t refute my story about Oliver’s death. I was still safe.

She arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“My brother died that night,” I said. “That’s all.”

“How did he die? You never told me.”

“You don’t want to hear that story.”

“I do. If you’ll tell it.”

I looked down at my boots. It occurred to me suddenly that I could tell her the truth. For the first time, I could tell someone the real story of how Oliver had died. Clémence hardly knew me, and I hardly knew her. We’d probably part for good in a few days, and whatever she thought of me was of little consequence. I had gotten so rehearsed in my lie that I’d forgotten telling the truth was even an option.

“Geisler hid with our family for two nights after he escaped from prison,” I began, not quite sure which version was about to come out of my mouth—they both started the same. “The police were looking for him, and security around the borders was tight, so he thought it would be safer to lie low in Geneva before he made a run for it. The night he left, Oliver and I went with him. We were meant to be some sort of cover, and to be certain he made it safely to the river.”

I stopped. For a moment, I had thought I was going to say it—to say what I’d done. But then, all at once, I couldn’t. The words were caught inside me, too stiff and scared and soaked in guilt to find their way out.

There was no chance of telling the truth, I realized, not because of Clémence but because of me. I couldn’t say it out loud. It was hard enough to admit it was truth at all. So I reverted to the same story I’d told Oliver and my parents and myself over and over in my head across the last two years. “Geisler took us to the clock tower first, where his laboratory was. He wanted to get his journals with all his notes on resurrection. Oliver didn’t like the resurrection work—he’d been helping Geisler with it as part of his apprenticeship, but he thought it was mad and he was angry that Geisler wanted to keep it going. They got in a row, Oliver jumped at Geisler, Geisler pushed him into the clock face, and it broke, and . . .” My voice snagged. “Oliver fell.”

“So Geisler killed you brother.”

“It was an accident,” I said, louder than I meant to. “Oliver thinks Geisler did it on purpose, but it was an accident.”

There was a moment of silence, then she said, “Your brother died.”

When I looked up, she was watching me with her head tipped. “Yes.”

“So how did he tell you what he thought about his death?”

I almost laughed at my own mistake. How many times had I thought I was so guarded and ready to face any question that would ever be thrown at me? But I had spoken without thinking, the same gormless way I’d addressed her in English when we met. Something about her disarmed me. “I misspoke.”

“I don’t think you did.” She studied me hard for a moment, like she was trying to find some answer in my face, then said, “That’s why Geisler sent for you, isn’t it? You brought your brother back from the dead, and he wants you to show him how you did it.” When I didn’t deny it, Clémence let out a long breath and slumped a little farther down the wall. “How did Geisler know? Did you tell him?”

“No, he read it.”

“Read it where?”

“In Frankenstein.”

“You mean . . . ?”

“Geisler thinks it’s about Oliver and me.”

“Is it?”

I swallowed hard. Saying it out loud somehow made it feel truer than it had before. “I think so too.”

“God’s wounds. Are you some sort of genius, then?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I understand mechanical things. That’s all.”

“It takes more than that to bring someone back to life. Even Geisler couldn’t do it.”

“I didn’t know he was still trying. I assumed he gave up on his resurrections after they nearly got him executed.”

“He’s just gotten more obsessive. And brutal. You saw the laboratory. He tried to do that work at the university, but they shut him down. Threatened to have him arrested if he didn’t stop. That’s why he had this place built. The police keep an eye on it but they haven’t found him out yet.” There was a pause, then she asked, “Did he invite you to come do research with him?”

“Yes. He wants me to study at the university. He said I could bring my brother here if I showed him how the resurrection worked.”

“How much did you tell him?”

“Just that I brought Oliver back. Nothing specific.”

“Do you know Dr. Geisler well?”

“Not well. He was friends with my father. The first proper conversation we had was when I arrived here. Oliver knows him better than I do.” And Oliver never liked him, said a small voice in my head.

“Did he tell you his bit about good men and clever men?”