The Coldest Case by Martin Walker (mobi reader android txt) 📕

He parked in the main square since it was not a market day and went to his office. Shortly before eight, with Balzac on his leash, he set off for the maternelle nursery school, pausing only to greet his acquaintances as they opened their shops or hurried to work. St Denis was a town that rose early. Balzac tolerated being petted by the toddlers once they and their mothers had safely crossed the road.

He and Balzac made their usual circuit of the town, past the retirement home, the church and the cemetery, turning at the Gendarmerie to head up to the old main street before turning back onto the Rue de Paris and back to the main square. The Mayor was standing at the front desk, chatting with his secretary and Roberte from the social service team while waiting for his fancy coffee machine to finish his morning brew.

‘Bonjour, Bruno, and you, Balzac,’ he said, and turned to tell his secretary to make another cup for Bruno. ‘A word, if you please.’ He steered Bruno into his office, closed the door and said, ‘I’m a bit worried about this CIA dossier business. My instincts tell me this might not be the best time for Jacqueline to start making a fuss about it, least of all in Le Monde. What do you think?’

‘It might ruffle some feathers, both among our own security people and across the Atlantic,’ said Bruno, ‘but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be aired. Our secret state sometimes seems to forget they work for a democracy. Against that, I can’t say I like the idea of some witch-hunt for old Stasi spies in the current political climate with fake news and the superheated rhetoric of social media. I remember what Jack Crimson said about those well-meaning British peace activists who were listed as agents in those Stasi files. I assume the French counter-espionage people have been aware of this prospect for a while and tried to deal with it.’

‘That’s my feeling, or at least part of it. I’m also concerned about Jacqueline putting herself into a very public controversy with all the social media trolling that’s likely to follow.’

‘That has to be her decision,’ said Bruno. ‘I’m confident she’ll think it through and we both know she takes your own views seriously.’

The secretary tapped at the door with the toe of her shoe, and came in with a tray of coffee. A wave of her freshly applied perfume drowned the delicious smell of coffee as she swayed past him, fluttering her eyelashes. He sighed inwardly, thanked her with a cool smile and held the door open for her to leave. Her flirtatious ways would never change!

‘There’s something I wanted to tell you,’ Bruno said after she left. ‘Good news. Balzac’s puppies were born in the small hours of this morning, five females and four males. After your kindness in giving me Gigi when I first came to St Denis, I’d like you to have one and I’m sure Balzac would agree.’

The Mayor put down his coffee cup and beamed first at Bruno, then at Balzac, and said, ‘That’s wonderful news. I’m very happy for him and for you, and I’m touched by your offer. But I don’t think I want to go through the serious business of training a puppy at my age. These days I like to sleep in rather longer than basset hounds. I remember chatting to the Baron about it after he lost his dog and he said puppies were best raised on a working farm or in a house with children. I rather agree.’

‘I get some pups instead of a stud fee and I thought I’d give one to Florence’s children. I was saving the other for you.’

‘Thank you, but no. And I don’t think Jacqueline is nearly as much of a dog lover as you and me. In fact, she’s thinking of getting a cat. But I’m sure you’ll find a good home for the second hound. It’s a grand idea to offer one to Florence’s kids but I’d raise it with her first. She might well think she has enough on her plate. And the children feel they have a part-share in Balzac already.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Bruno admitted. ‘You’re right. I’d better check with her first. I thought I might drive up to the kennels later today and take a first look at the puppies.’

‘Give them all my warmest good wishes and make sure you don’t let one of them pee on your hand. That means he or she owns you. But you might want to join me tomorrow at noon in Périgueux. The Prefect has called an informal conference over this heatwave, whether we should impose controls on water, special measures for old people, setting up cooling rooms in retirement homes and so on. They’re worried about another disaster like the canicule.’

A surge of extreme heat in 2003 had led to many deaths, mainly among the elderly and infirm. The rivers had been unusually low and the water tables so sparse that fire engines had to come in relays to pump cooling water from their hoses onto the nuclear power stations. Successive governments had since been acutely aware of the dangers, and noticeably more sensitive to warnings of climate change. A recent spate of forest fires in southern France had sharpened the swelling sense of alarm. The government had made much of the purchase of four new specialist fire-fighting aircraft.

Bruno agreed to accompany the Mayor and suggested that if they had time, they could call in on Virginie, Elisabeth’s student who had started work at the police lab in Périgueux. After checking that he had an email from Claire confirming that he’d be welcome, but this was not the time for Balzac to meet his pups, Bruno dropped off Balzac at the riding school and set out for the kennels.

En route he put in his earphones and called up on his phone the app of English lessons that Pamela