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

it wasn’t a French citizen that he bumped off,’ Prunier replied. ‘That would really stick in my throat.’

21

From Prunier’s office Bruno went to find J-J, without success, and then down to the car park to collect Balzac. He checked the lab to see if Virginie was still there. The place was empty but he was delighted to find the skull she’d been working on. It had been partly hidden by the screen of her laptop during the time he’d been in the lab. Now her laptop lid was closed and the eerily disembodied head of Max – there was no doubt who it was – stared out across the lab.

He was bald. But strewn beside him were three cheap wigs of fair hair, each of different lengths and shades of blondness. Bruno tried each one on the skull. None seemed quite to capture the curl and thickness Bruno recalled from the photo. But the shape of the face, the cast of the eyes, the prominent nose, narrow lips and thrusting jaw all seemed right.

Bruno let out a soft whistle of admiration. Even without those hours of scanning through the photographs in the St Denis archive, Max might have been identified from this reconstruction alone. Virginie had done an admirable job and it was outrageous that one of the Périgueux cops should have treated her so shamefully. He sent a text to her phone to say, ‘This is brilliant. I’m full of admiration, Bruno.’ He added a postscript reminding her of the invitation to spend the weekend in St Denis. Then he sent a text to Elisabeth Daynès in Paris, saying that Virginie’s work on the skull had exceeded his highest hopes and when the case was complete, he’d give her a full report.

Balzac at his heels, he climbed the stairs to the courtyard and headed for the main reception area. The cop on duty told him that J-J was at the hospital with Gardien Baldin, while Virginie was with Commissaire Gouppilleau, the senior female officer at the station. He requested to be put through to her office. When Gouppilleau answered, Bruno identified himself and asked if Virginie would consent to see him. He was told to come right up.

The commissaire met him in the corridor and greeted him warmly with a firm handshake. ‘Along with every other female cop in Périgueux I’d like to buy you a large drink,’ she said. ‘And that’s a very handsome dog.’ He couldn’t help noticing that her police uniform had been extremely well cut and she looked more like a smart lawyer than a cop. ‘With luck you might have lifted the curse of the big, bad Baldin, the most loathed man in the station. Come in, come in. Virginie has been telling me all about it.’

Bruno couldn’t help but smile as he noticed the defiantly non-uniform red high-heels the commissaire was wearing. She saw he was staring at her shoes and smiled back at him.

‘Even if I have to change into clodhoppers when I go outdoors, these help keep up my morale,’ she said, steering him into her office.

‘Hi, Bruno,’ said Virginie from her place in a deep armchair. She looked pale and fragile, wearing a policewoman’s raincoat that was about four sizes too large for her. The blood on her face had been cleaned and a bandage had been taped over her nose. Her voice sounded as if she had a heavy cold. ‘Thanks for turning up when you did.’

‘I’m so sorry about this, Virginie, and just wish I’d arrived a minute or two earlier,’ he said, as Balzac trotted up to Virginie and put out a paw. ‘Don’t worry. Balzac is just trying to say hello.’

‘No, you arrived at the right time to stop matters going further,’ said Gouppilleau. ‘Arriving when you did was perfectly timed to nail a cop who’s been a menace to every woman in this building, and heaven knows how many civilian women outside. How the devil did you get the better of that enormous brute?’

‘I attacked him from the rear while he was otherwise engaged, probably trying to react to Virginie grabbing the scalpel,’ Bruno said. ‘She was doing a very impressive job of defending herself, shrieking the place down and she had all his attention. I could have come up behind him in a tank and he might not have noticed. I gave Prunier a statement and we’ll need one from Virginie.’

‘I already took her statement. Prunier sent me yours and they clearly agree,’ Gouppilleau said. ‘Gardien Baldin has been officially suspended and he’ll be charged when he gets back from the hospital. I’ll do that myself and I’ll personally monitor the case from now on. I already know the female magistrate I want to take on this case, Annette, in the Procureur’s office in Sarlat. I gather she knows you.’

‘She’s a demon rally driver,’ he said. ‘She once scared the hell out of me when I had to act as her navigator.’ He turned to Virginie, who was sitting forward and caressing Balzac’s ears.

‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital? I was worried about that blood I saw on your thighs and it looked like he really hurt your . . .’ Bruno waved his hand in the direction of her breast.

‘My breast is sore but the blood on my thighs was where he scratched me, trying to grope me and pull . . .’ She paused, her eyes fixed on Balzac. ‘That was when I grabbed the scalpel.’

‘We had Virginie checked over by a doctor,’ said Gouppilleau. ‘She has a broken nose from where he slapped her but it’s been reset by our police doctor. Thank heavens, Bruno, that you bagged that right hand of his. The scratch wasn’t deep but that’s the evidence of assault that will send him to jail.’

‘It certainly should,’ said Bruno, thinking it was never easy to win a case for sexual assault, and even less easy to convict a cop. ‘I gather that Baldin has something of