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

followed the direction of J-J’s mind. He knew better than most that J-J’s bullish manner and appearance concealed a profound and subtle intelligence. He’d been a successful detective for thirty years and had navigated the complexities of police politics to reach his current job. Bruno would never underestimate him.

‘Do you think Henri’s going to stay here and brazen it out? Plead that all your witnesses are mistaking him for someone else?’ Bruno asked.

‘I believe Tante-Do. I don’t think she’d be mistaken in identifying him after that passionate weekend together. Guilty or innocent, brazen denial could be his best bet, if he can bring forward someone who gives him an alibi for the time of the félibrée.’ J-J’s voice sounded almost detached, as though he were thinking of something else entirely. ‘Even if he admits to being Tante-Do’s Henri, we still need evidence that he killed Max.’

Bruno nodded. Identifying Henri was one thing. Proving that he was the one who had killed Max was something quite different.

‘But if we can’t prove that he was Max’s killer, maybe if we look hard enough we can find something else.’ J-J turned to look at Bruno directly. ‘Any ideas?’

‘None at all.’

‘You’re the hunting club man, Bruno. I’m surprised you didn’t know that Henri is a member of the Pomport club, just a few kilometres from here. And he’s a crack shot, they tell me.’

‘You’ve lost me, J-J. Where are you going with this?’

‘Where did he learn to shoot? What was his military service? You still have that friendly contact in army records?’ When Bruno nodded, J-J said, ‘Give him a call on Monday and see what you can find out.’

‘Will do. What’s your next step?’

‘I’ll do the obvious. Go to Henri’s house, show my police ID and ask for him. If he’s not there, I’ll ask where he is and when he’ll be back. I’ll leave my card and request that he calls, that I have some questions for him.’

‘You’re a commissaire, the top detective in the département,’ Bruno said. ‘That would scare anybody.’

‘You could be right, but it makes no difference if I send a junior. Henri will still end up talking to me. The sooner he learns that I’m interested in him, the more time he has to worry, perhaps even to panic. Always take account of the panic factor in police work, Bruno. Over the years it’s probably caught as many criminals as fingerprints.’

14

Alain and Rosalie had caught the sun on their canoe trip, their faces glowing red. Nonetheless they were beaming with delight as they came from the car to join Bruno on his terrace. Balzac darted from his spot by Bruno’s feet to welcome them, circling around them twice and then standing before them appealingly, one paw raised, until Rosalie bent down to stroke him.

Bruno had spent two calming hours weeding his garden, scything some long grass behind the house and deadheading the faded roses. He feared for his flowers if some rain did not come soon. For the past few days he had watered only the vegetables, following a tip he’d learned from Marcel in the market. He had planted discarded plastic bottles upside down at strategic points, having pierced small holes in the caps, screwed them back on, cut off the bottoms and half-filled each one. From the healthy look of his tomatoes, peas and lettuces this primitive drip irrigation seemed to work.

‘Lemonade, coffee, tea?’ he asked his guests. ‘We should leave for the Baron’s place in about half an hour if you want to shower first.’

‘That’s okay,’ said Rosalie. ‘We took a dip in the river before we handed the canoe back. It was spectacular, those amazing castles, one after another, and that little village that clambered up the cliff was too pretty for words. And at Castelnaud we saw them fire the smallest of the trebuchets. Very impressive. They said some of the damage to the castle was done by catapults like that.’

‘And how was Lascaux this morning?’

‘Amazing,’ she said. ‘I had no idea that it was so beautiful and that those prehistoric people were so smart. The only way they could get enough light inside the cave to paint was to invent a special kind of lamp that used a juniper twig as a wick in rendered reindeer fat. Any other kind of flame would have covered the white chalk walls with soot. How long did it take to develop that? I’ll never think of those people as primitive again.’

Bruno was used to the enthusiasm of visitors, but it always pleased him. ‘There are many more caves worth a visit, twenty-four painted caves and over a hundred with various engravings. One is so big you take a train to get deep inside and the walls are covered with mammoths.’

‘I told you we’d need more time here,’ Alain said, putting his arm around Rosalie’s waist.

‘Should we dress for this evening with your Baron friend?’ she asked.

‘Not at all, I never do and nor does he, you both look fine as you are. We’ll stop to pick up a friend called Sabine, a young gendarme who’s on temporary assignment here.’

‘I’m getting out of these bathing trunks under my slacks,’ said Alain. ‘We’ll go up and change but we won’t be long.’

The eyes of Sabine and Rosalie widened when they drove along the Baron’s driveway and saw his four-hundred-year-old home. It was a chartreuse, the local name for a building that was smaller than a chateau but larger than a manor house. The rear looked like a fortress, a fifty-metre stretch of stone wall with a tower at each end, a bleak façade broken only by a few windows, recently added. It formed one side of a square in the small hamlet that had grown up around the building, mainly cottages and smallholdings for families who had worked the land of the Baron’s ancestors.

By contrast, the front of the chartreuse, framed by a long avenue of apple and walnut trees that led up to