“The key then . . .” said Marcel.
“Is innovation,” Lupa continued. “I don’t mean to slur those who follow others’ examples, or those who learn a trade and become proficient at a skill. No. We need them. I simply bemoan the lack of creative leadership by people who are, nominally, our leaders.”
“I quite agree,” I put in.
“Perhaps I misunderstood,” said Marcel. “Then you are here as a head chef to learn to innovate?”
Lupa smiled. “One doesn’t learn how to innovate. One simply acts, and learns from his actions. But yes, I am here to become a chef. I am already a cook.”
It seemed that Marcel was on the verge of questioning him directly about his real work. He leaned toward the younger man with a gleam in his eyes. A slight breeze came into the arbor, though, and Lupa, rubbing his hands together, stood.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I have very much enjoyed the day, but I must now attend to other matters. I’m becoming more and more a creature of habit, and my habits won’t brook much flexibility. I’m afraid I must go.”
“Well, if you must, you must,” I said, “but would you consider coming back this evening? Once a week, I host a gathering of the men I had earlier mentioned to you, and I’m always happy to find another discerning beer lover.”
He bowed slightly. “I’d be delighted, though it would have to be after the dinner hour.”
“Around ten, then.”
We remained seated and watched him until he entered the house. He walked very lightly for a man of his size.
“Well?” asked my friend.
I shrugged. “What do you think of him?”
“He’s very polite.”
We laughed, and I rose to get some more beer. When I had come back and sat down, Marcel was still smiling.
“He doesn’t seem to be in as much a hurry to enlist our aid as we are to enlist his, does he?”
“Hardly. And I must admit that after all this time, I’m starting to wonder if I’ve been put out to pasture, that there’s nothing happening in Valence, and I’ve been sent here to sit out the war with my cook and my beer. Have you heard of anything at all?”
“I heard from Paris late last week; it must have been after last Wednesday’s gathering, and they told us to sit tight, that whatever would happen here obviously was in the planning stage, and the longer the wait, the greater the odds that it’s really something big.” He took a long drink of beer. “The damn thing is, there’s no one worth assassinating here, and no one scheduled to come, and not a clue of planning in progress . . .” He trailed off. “Nothing.”
