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

‘I think the police can afford to buy you a new scrapbook if you let me borrow this one. I can scan it in the office and then bring it back. It might give me a chance to have some more of your delicious walnut cake.’

10

Bruno dropped Joe off at his house and drove on to the Mairie, scanned the photo of the young Tante-Do and Sabine’s mum onto his desk computer and sent a copy to J-J with a note identifying the happy couple in the pool behind Dominique. Yves, the forensics chief, would have some computer wizardry to blow up the detail. He printed out two more versions, one for him and the other for Sabine. Then he called Philippe Delaron, who was on his way back after photographing a couple in Les Eyzies who were celebrating their joint hundredth birthday. They arranged to meet at Fauquet’s.

‘I’m going to have to install air conditioning if these summers go on like this,’ said Fauquet, bringing a welcome glass of cold beer to Bruno’s shaded table on the terrace. ‘If it wasn’t for the ice creams, I’d go broke.’

Bruno had only taken his first, long swallow when Philippe arrived. ‘Unless this is urgent, Bruno, I’ll have to go to the office to send these snaps back to the paper. They’re for one of the pages that gets printed early. Then later this afternoon I have to go and photograph the pompiers doing some new training to deal with forest fires. The Prefect has put out an alert.’

‘I wanted to see if you can track down those photos your dad took of the félibrée thirty years ago. I remember you telling me he kept everything. Time for a very quick beer?’

‘Gladly.’ Bruno signalled the order to Fauquet. ‘That’s true, he did. But I didn’t. I had to clear out the shop when we started renting it out. I only kept the stuff I knew would make money, like those photo books of old St Denis they sell in the tourism office. Wedding and baptism photos I kept, because a lot of people lose them and want to buy them again. I offered all the rest to the Mairie. You know how the Mayor loves anything historical, but he didn’t take much.’

‘What about the félibrée photos?’

‘There was a whole box of that stuff, Dad must have shot rolls. That was one thing the Mayor took but lord knows what he did with it. And if the box was stored in that old basement, you remember it got flooded. They could be ruined.’

‘What did you give them, negatives or prints? The prints might be gone but the negatives could be okay.’

‘Both, because the Mairie had paid him by the day for covering the félibrée so they were the legal owners. Dad was pretty thorough, so the negative rolls were put back into sealed plastic canisters and each of the prints had its own plastic cover. Maybe they survived.’

‘Did you hang onto any of the félibrée photos?

‘Yes, I selected the best because next time we have a félibrée here, I’ll put out a photo book of the last one. I’ve saved maybe a hundred and twenty prints, possibly more.’

‘I’d like you to look them out for me and I’ll come by your office once I’ve checked with the Mayor.’

‘What’s this about, Bruno?’

‘Can’t tell you yet but there may be a good story in it for Sud Ouest and you’ll be the first to know. I’ll give you a clue. Did you shoot that exhibition that’s now on at the museum in Les Eyzies?’

‘The woman who rebuilds faces from prehistoric skulls? Yes, I was there at the opening reception when you were. I even got a shot of you and the artist and Clothilde chatting together.’

Bruno saw a blank look in Philippe’s eyes as his mind began working overtime, looking for a connection. Maybe he’d given Philippe too strong a hint but so far nobody but the investigating team knew of any connection between the dead man and the félibrée.

‘The beer’s on me,’ Bruno said, rising and leaving a five euro note on the table before climbing the stairs of the Mairie. The Mayor recalled getting the félibrée photos from Philippe but was not quite sure where they had been stored. Claire brought him the registry book for the archives. He leafed through, running his finger down each page before looking up.

‘It went first to the basement but when we had the flood alert I had most of that stuff shifted up to the new registry behind the Trésor Public. I’ll give the Treasurer a call to say you’re coming.’

‘Tell him I won’t be alone. There are a lot of rolls of film, thirty-six images each, so I’m going to need help from Sabine, the gendarme from Metz whose half-brother was fathered by Oscar. She’s been attached to Yveline’s gendarmerie.’

‘Bring her to the Mairie at some point so I can say hello and give her my condolences on her brother’s death. Off you go, and I’ll call the Treasurer.’

Bruno called Yveline, who answered brusquely. ‘Bruno, where have you been? I’ve sent you a couple of texts.’

Bruno felt instantly guilty. He tried to be good at answering emails but he’d never yet learned to make his phone an extension of himself and seldom bothered to check for text messages.

‘Sorry, I was out in the woods at the murder scene so I didn’t get a signal. How’s Sabine and what are you up to?’

‘We’re in Les Eyzies, with your colleague Juliette. I’ve been showing Sabine around our beat and we ran into her and are having coffee. What’s up?’

‘Can you meet me at the Trésor Public archive in St Denis? I’m going to need your and Sabine’s help. We’ve a lot of félibrée photos to look through but I think we might have a lead. There’s no great hurry, the photos will wait, and give my best regards to Juliette.’

‘OK, we’ll