The Three Evangelists

XXVIII

LEGUENNEC WAS DRIVING AT TOP SPEED, ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS, WITH Vandoosler at his side, and his siren sounding so as to be able to shoot red lights and make plain his anger.

‘I’m really sorry,’ Vandoosler was saying. ‘My nephew didn’t realise Dompierre’s visit might be important, and he didn’t bother to tell me about it.’

‘Is your nephew a half-wit or what?’

Vandoosler stiffened. He could argue with Marc for hours himself, but he didn’t like other people speaking ill of him.

‘Can’t you switch off that racket?’ he asked. ‘I can’t hear a thing with that blasted noise. Dompierre’s dead now, five minutes isn’t going to make any difference.’

Without speaking, Leguennec turned off the siren.

‘Anyway, he isn’t a half-wit,’ said Vandoosler crossly. ‘And if if you were as good at detecting as he is at medieval history, you’d have been promoted out of this district. So listen. Marc did mean to tell you about this yesterday. But he’s looking for a job and he had some important interviews. In fact, you’re lucky he did open the door to this peculiar character with his odd story, otherwise the police would be looking in Geneva for clues. And the link with this case would never have come out. You ought to be grateful to him. OK, Dompierre got himself killed. But Marc wouldn’t have been able to tell you any more about him yesterday than I’ve told you today, and you certainly wouldn’t have put Dompierre under police protection, would you? So nothing would have changed. Slow down! We’re there.’

‘When we see the inspecteur of the 19th arrondissement’, said Leguennec grumpily, but less angrily, ‘you’re one of my colleagues, OK? And you leave things to me? Understood?’

Leguennec flashed his police card to get through the barrier set up across the entrance to the hotel car park, which was simply a dingy little inner courtyard reserved for the hotel’s customers. Vernant, the inspecteur from the local station had been told Leguennec was on his way. He was not unhappy to hand the case over, because it was looking decidedly difficult. No woman, inheritance, or political scandal, seemed to be involved. Nothing to go on. Leguennec shook hands, introduced his colleague inaudibly and listened to what Vernant, a young man with fair hair, had so far picked up.

‘The owner of the Danube called us this morning just before eight. He found the body when he was bringing in the dustbins from the street. It gave him a horrible shock and he’s still getting over it. Dompierre had been in the hotel for two nights and had come from Geneva.’

‘By way of Dourdan,’ Leguennec interrupted. ‘OK, go on.’

‘He hadn’t taken any phone calls or had any mail, except a letter without a stamp put through the hotel letterbox yesterday afternoon. The boss picked it up at five o’clock and put it in Dompierre’s pigeonhole, room 32. Needless to say, we haven’t found the letter on him, or in his room. It’s pretty obvious that this was the message that lured him out of doors. Presumably it was about a meeting. And the murderer took back his letter. The courtyard is the perfect site for a murder. Apart from the back of the hotel, the other two walls have no windows, and it just gives on to a rat-infested alleyway. What’s more, the hotel guests have a key that opens the back door into the yard, because the front door shuts at eleven. It would be easy enough to get Dompierre to come down the service stairs late at night and come out through the back door for a rendezvous between two cars. According to what you tell us, he was after some information and probably didn’t suspect anything. He got a savage blow on the head and two stab wounds in the stomach.’

The doctor attending to the body looked up. ‘Three,’ he said. ‘Whoever it was was taking no chances. Poor chap must have died within minutes.’

Vernant pointed to some broken glass spread out on a plastic sheet.

‘Dompierre was hit over the head with a small bottle of water,’ he said. ‘No prints of course.’ He shook his head. ‘What’s it coming to when the dimmest hoodlum knows enough to wear gloves?’

‘What was the time of death?’ Vandoosler asked quietly.

The police doctor stood up and dusted down his trousers. ‘I’d say about eleven-ish last night. I can be more precise after the post-mortem, because the owner knows when Dompierre had dinner. I’ll let you know my first conclusions later tonight. It can’t have been later than about two o’clock.’

‘What kind of knife?’ asked Leguennec.

‘Probably just an ordinary kitchen knife, quite a big one. The usual sort of weapon.’

Leguennec turned to Vernant.

‘And the hotel owner didn’t notice anything special about the envelope?’

‘No, he says the name was written in biro, and in capitals. Just an ordinary white envelope. Everything’s ordinary, nothing remarkable at all.’

‘Why did Dompierre choose this downmarket hotel? He didn’t seem short of money.’

‘The owner says Dompierre used to live in the area when he was a child,’ said Vernant. ‘He liked coming back here.’

The body had been taken away. Nothing was left except the chalk outline indicating where it had lain.

‘Was the back door still open this morning?’ Leguennec asked.

‘No, it had been shut, probably by an early departing guest who left at about seven-thirty, according to the owner. Dompierre still had his room key in his pocket.’

‘And the guest didn’t notice anything?’

‘No. Even though his car was parked close to the body. But the driver’s door was on the other side from the corpse. So his car, which was a big Renault, was between him and it. He must just have driven off forwards, out of the courtyard, without noticing anything.’

‘OK,’ Leguennec concluded. ‘I’ll come along with you for the formalities, Vernant. You don’t mind passing this case over to me?’

‘Not at all,’ said Vernant. ‘For the moment, the Siméonidis link looks the most promising. So be my guest. If you draw a blank, you can send it back to us.’

Leguennec dropped Vandoosler off at the Métro on the way to the police station.

‘I’ll be over your way presently,’ he said. ‘I need to check some alibis. But first I need to contact the ministry to see where Relivaux is. In Toulon, or wherever.’

‘Would you like a game of cards tonight,’ suggested Vandoosler, ‘with your old shipmate?’

‘That depends. I’ll be along some time anyway. Why haven’t you got round to putting in a phone?’

‘No money,’ said Vandoosler.

It was almost midday. Anxiously, Vandoosler looked for a phone box before taking the Métro. If he waited until he had crossed Paris, it might be too late to find out the answer to his question. He didn’t trust Leguennec. He called the number at Le Tonneau and got Juliette.

‘Hello, it’s me, Vandoosler,’ he said. ‘Is St Matthew there?’

‘Have they found anything?’ asked Juliette. ‘Do they know who did it?’

‘If you think they can do that in a couple of hours, my dear. No, it’s going to be complicated and perhaps impossible.’

‘OK,’ sighed Juliette. ‘Here’s Mathias.’

‘St Matthew? Can you keep your voice down when you answer me. Is Alexandra eating there today?’

‘It’s Wednesday, so Kyril’s off school, but she’s here with him. She’s got into the habit of coming. Juliette makes up nice little dishes for Kyril. Today he’s got courgette purée. Yum.’

Under Juliette’s maternal influence, Mathias was starting to appreciate good cooking, that was clear. Perhaps, Vandoosler thought passingly, this new interest was distracting him from a rather more attractive prospect, Juliette herself and her fair white shoulders. In his place, Vandoosler would have thrown himself at Juliette rather than at a plate of courgette purée. But Mathias was a complex individual, who calculated his actions and never ventured into open country without long reflection. Each to his own way with women. Vandoosler forced from his mind the idea of Juliette’s white shoulders, which gave him a thrill, especially when she leaned across to pick up a glass. It was definitely not the moment for thrills, for him, Mathias or anyone else.

‘Was Alexandra there at lunchtime yesterday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you tell her about Dompierre’s visit?’

‘Yes. I didn’t mean to, but she asked me. She was feeling down. So I chatted to her to cheer her up.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not blaming you for that. It’s sometimes a good thing to let out a bit of rope. Did you tell her where he was staying?’

Mathias thought for a few moments.

‘Yes,’ he said once more. ‘She was afraid he would wait all day for Relivaux in the street. I reassured her and told her Dompierre was staying in the rue de la Prévoyance. I liked the name. I’m sure I said that, and I think I said the Hôtel du Danube too.’

‘Why should it bother her if some stranger hung about all day waiting for Relivaux?’

‘No idea.’

‘Listen carefully, St Matthew. Dompierre was killed between eleven and two, with three stab wounds to the stomach. He had been tricked into meeting someone. It might have been Relivaux, who’s off God knows where, as it happens; or it could be to do with Dourdan, or from somewhere else. Can you get away for five minutes, and find Marc? He’s waiting for me at home. Tell him what I just told you, and ask him to get up to Le Tonneau and ask Lex where she was last night. In a friendly and calm way, if he’s capable of that. And he should also discreetly try to ask Juliette if she saw or heard anything. Apparently she’s a bad sleeper, so she might have heard something. It must be Marc who asks her, not you, understood?’

‘Yes,’ said Mathias, without taking offence.

‘Your job is to be the waiter, you keep an eye on everyone as you do your rounds and you notice any reactions. And pray to God that Alexandra didn’t budge from the house last night. Above all, not a word to Leguennec for now. He said he was going back to the station, but he’s quite capable of going round to the garden house or to Le Tonneau without me. So be quick.’

Ten minutes later, Marc walked into Le Tonneau looking ill at ease. He kissed Juliette, Alexandra, and little Kyril who jumped up into his arms.

‘Do you mind if I sit with you to have a bite?’

‘Do,’ said Alexandra. ‘Move up, Kyril, you’re taking all the space.’

‘You know what’s happened?’

Alexandra nodded. ‘Mathias told us. And Juliette had heard it on the news. It’s that same man, isn’t it? There can’t be any doubt?’

‘No, unfortunately not.’

‘It’s just ghastly,’ said Alexandra. ‘He’d have done better to tell us everything that was on his mind. It looks as if they’ll never be able to catch whoever killed Aunt Sophia now. And I don’t know how I’m going to live with that. How was he killed? Do they know?’

‘Knife in the stomach. Not instantaneous, but effective.’

Mathias was watching Alexandra, as he brought over Kyril’s plate. She shivered.

‘Keep your voice down,’ she said gesturing towards Kyril with her chin. ‘Please.’

‘It must have happened between eleven o’clock and two in the morning. Leguennec is looking for Relivaux. You didn’t hear anything, did you? A car perhaps?’

‘No, I was asleep. Once I’m asleep, I don’t hear a thing. You can check-I’ve got three alarm clocks on the bedside table to get me up in time to take him to school… And anyway…’

‘Anyway?’

Alexandra hesitated, frowning a little. Marc felt uneasy, but he had his orders.

‘Anyway just now, I’m taking stuff to help me sleep. So as not to lie awake thinking. So I’ve been sleeping more heavily than usual.’

Marc nodded. Reassured. Even if he did think Alexandra had rather overdone the explanation of her sleeping habits.

‘But why are they going after Pierre?’ Alexandra was saying. ‘That’s impossible. How could he have known that Dompierre came to see him?’

‘Dompierre might have reached him by phone via the ministry. Don’t forget he was on official business too. He seemed determined, you know. And in a hurry.’

‘But Pierre’s in Toulon.’

‘There’s such a thing as an aeroplane,’ said Marc. ‘There and back, quickly. Anything’s possible.’

‘I see,’ said Alexandra. ‘But they’re really on the wrong track. Pierre would never have hurt a hair of Sophia’s head.’

‘He did have a mistress, though, and it had been going on some time.’

Her face darkened. Marc regretted his last remark. He had no time to think of anything intelligent to follow it with, because Leguennec walked into the restaurant. The godfather had been right. Leguennec had tried to pull a fast one on him. The inspecteur came up to their table.

‘If you’ve finished your lunch, Mlle Haufman, and if you could leave your son with one of your friends for an hour or so, I’d be glad if you would come with me. I have a few more questions I’m obliged to ask you.’

The bastard. Marc did not look at Leguennec. Still, he was simply doing his job, just as Marc had been a few minutes earlier.

Alexandra did not look troubled and Mathias confirmed with a nod that he would look after Kyril. She went out with the inspecteur and got into his car. His appetite gone, Marc pushed away his plate and went to the bar. He asked Juliette to serve him a large glass of beer.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘He won’t be able to accuse her of anything. Alexandra didn’t go out all night.’

‘I know,’ said Marc with a sigh. ‘That’s what she says. But he won’t believe her. From the start he hasn’t believed a word she’s said.’

‘That’s his job,’ said Juliette. ‘But I can tell you she didn’t move. That’s the truth and I can tell him so.’

Marc grabbed her hand.

‘Tell me, how do you know?’

‘I could see,’ smiled Juliette. ‘At eleven o’clock, I finished my book and put out the light. But I couldn’t sleep. I often can’t. Sometimes I hear Georges snoring upstairs and that keeps me awake. But last night there wasn’t even any snoring. So I went downstairs to get another book, and stayed down there reading until about half-past two. Then I thought I really ought to try and get some sleep. So I went back up and forced myself to take a pill and went off to sleep. But what I can tell you, Marc, is that between eleven o’clock and about half-past two, Alexandra didn’t go out. There wasn’t any sound of noise or cars. When she goes out at night, she takes the little boy with her. I don’t like her doing that. Anyway last night Kyril’s little nightlight was on. He’s afraid of the dark, like any child.’

Marc felt all his hopes evaporate. He looked at Juliette, aghast.

‘What’s the matter?’ said Juliette. ‘You ought to be happy. Lex is out of trouble.’

Marc shook his head. Looking round the restaurant which was starting to fill up, he moved closer to Juliette.

‘You’re sure that at about two in the morning you heard absolutely nothing,’ he whispered.

‘I just told you,’ said Juliette. ‘So you’ve no need to worry.’

Marc drank off half the glass of beer and buried his face in his hands.

‘Juliette,’ he said softly. ‘You’re very kind.’

Juliette looked at him, puzzled.

‘But you’re lying,’ Marc went on. ‘You’ve just told me a pack of lies.’

‘Keep your voice down!’ Juliette told him. ‘You don’t believe me! Why not, for heaven’s sake!’

Marc gripped Juliette’s hand even more tightly and saw that Mathias was looking across at him.

‘Listen, Juliette: you did see Alexandra go out last night and you know she’s lying to us. So you’re lying in turn to protect her. You may be trying to be kind, but you’ve just told me the opposite of what you wanted me to think. Because at two this morning, I was outside in the street myself. And I was in front of your gate, with Mathias, trying to get Lucien back in the house, he was drunk. And you were fast asleep with your sleeping pill, so you didn’t hear the racket he was making? You must have been fast asleep. And you’ve made me remember, now that I think of it, that there wasn’t a light in Kyril’s window. None at all. Ask Mathias.’

Juliette’s face fell. She turned to Mathias who nodded. Slowly.

‘So, please tell me the truth now,’ said Marc. ‘It’ll be better for Lex in the end if we’re going to protect her intelligently. Because your little plan won’t work. You’re too naïve, you think the police are stupid.’

‘Stop gripping my hand like that!’ said Juliette. ‘You’re hurting me. The customers will see.’

‘Come on, Juliette.’

Silently, her head bent, Juliette went back to washing glasses in the sink.

‘All we have to do is agree our story,’ she said suddenly. ‘You didn’t go out to fetch Lucien, and I didn’t hear anything, and Lex didn’t go out. Full stop.’

Marc shook his head. ‘Lucien was shouting like crazy, any neighbour could have heard him. It won’t work and it’ll only make things worse. Tell me the truth, it will be for the best. After that we’ll see how economical we need to be with the truth.’

Juliette remained undecided, twisting the tea towel in her hands. Mathias went over to her, put his big hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

‘Alright,’ said Juliette. ‘I went about it the wrong way. But how was I to know you were outside at two in the morning? Alexandra did go out in her car. She went out very quietly without putting on her lights, probably so as not to wake Kyril.’

‘What time was it?’ asked Marc, his throat dry.

‘Quarter-past eleven. When I went down to fetch a book. That bit is true. I felt a bit cross seeing her go off, if you must know, because of the boy. Whether she’d taken him or left him behind on his own, it still upset me. I said to myself that I must pluck up courage to say something to her about it next day, though it isn’t my business. The nightlight wasn’t on, it’s true. And no, I didn’t stay downstairs reading. I went back up and took a sleeping pill, because I was upset. I went off to sleep straightaway. Then when I heard the news this morning at ten, I panicked. I heard Lex telling you just now that she hadn’t left the house. So I thought the best thing to do would be…’

‘To back her up?’

Juliette nodded sadly. ‘I’d have done better to keep quiet,’ she said.

‘Don’t reproach yourself,’ Marc said. ‘The police would have found out sooner or later. Because Alexandra didn’t park her car in the same place when she got back. Now that I know, I remember that last night before supper, Sophia’s car was parked a few yards up from your gate. I went past it-it’s red, you notice it. This morning when I went to get the paper at about half-past ten, it wasn’t there. The space was taken by a grey car, I think it belongs to the people up the road. Alexandra must have found the space taken when she got back, so she had to park somewhere else. That’ll be child’s play for the police. This is a small street, everyone knows the cars, and other neighbours would probably notice that kind of thing.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ said Juliette. ‘She might have gone out again this morning.’

‘Well, they’ll check that too.’

‘But if she really had done what Leguennec suspects, she would have made sure to park it in the same place.’

‘Juliette, don’t be silly. How could she do that if someone else had parked there? She couldn’t magic it away.’

‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying. My head’s all over the place. All the same, Marc, Lex did go out, but she was just going for a drive, that’s all it was!’

‘I think that too,’ said Marc. ‘But how do you think we can get that into Leguennec’s head? What a night to choose to go for a drive. After all the fuss that’s already caused, you’d think she’d stay put.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ said Juliette.

‘Well, I’m getting bloody angry,’ said Marc. ‘Anyone would think she’s doing it on purpose.’

‘How was she to know Dompierre would be killed? Put yourself in her place.’

‘In her place, I wouldn’t have stirred from the house. She’s really in a tight spot now, Juliette.’ Marc banged his fist on the counter and finished his beer.

‘What can we do?’ asked Juliette.

‘I’m going to Dourdan to see what’s to be done there. I’m going to look for whatever Dompierre was after. Leguennec can’t stop me. Siméonidis is free to let anyone see his archives if he wants to. The police can check that I haven’t taken anything. Have you got her father’s address?’

‘No, but anyone will tell you over there. Sophia had a little house in the same street. She bought it so she could visit her father, without having to stay under the same roof as her stepmother. They didn’t get on. It’s a little way out of the town centre, rue des Ifs. Wait, and I’ll go and check.’

Mathias came over, when Juliette went into the kitchen to get her handbag.

‘Are you off now?’ said Mathias. ‘D’you want me to come with you? It might be wise. Things are hotting up.’

Marc smiled at him. ‘Thanks, Mathias. But I think you’d better stay here. Juliette needs you and so does Lex. And anyway you’ve got the little Greek to look after and you’re very good at that. It makes me calmer to know you’re here. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to be afraid of. If I need to contact you, I’ll telephone here or to Juliette’s house. Tell the godfather when he comes.’

Juliette came back with her address book. ‘The street is the allée des Grands-Ifs. Sophia’s house is number 12. The old man’s is somewhere nearby.’

‘OK, got it. If Leguennec asks, you went to sleep at eleven and didn’t hear a thing. He’ll work it out for himself

‘Of course,’ said Juliette.

‘Tell your brother to say the same, just in case. I’m just looking in at our house then I’m off to get the train.’

A sudden gust of wind blew open a window that had not been closed properly. The storm was arriving, apparently a fiercer one than the météo had forecast. It seemed to invigorate Marc, who jumped down from his stool and hurried out.

Back home, he quickly packed a few things. He didn’t know how long he’d be away, or if he would find anything. But he had to try and do something. That fool Alexandra could think of nothing better to do than go driving round at night again. The fucking idiot, how stupid could you get? Marc cursed as he threw a few things into his rucksack. He was trying to convince himself that Alexandra had indeed just been driving around. And that she had lied to him simply to protect herself. That was it, there couldn’t be anything else behind it. It took a lot of concentration. He didn’t hear Lucien coming in behind him.

‘Are you packing?’ asked Lucien. ‘You’re making a terrible mess of it. Look at your shirt!’

Marc glanced up at Lucien. Of course, there were no classes on Wednesday afternoons.

‘Bugger the shirt,’ he said. ‘Alexandra is in deep trouble. She went out last night, like a complete idiot. I’m off to Dourdan. I’m going to search in the Siméonidis archives. At least they won’t be in Latin or Old French, that’ll make a change. I’m used to looking through papers quickly, perhaps I’ll find something.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ said Lucien. ‘I don’t want you ending up with a knife in the guts too. Let’s stick together, soldier.’

Marc stopped stuffing things into the rucksack and looked at Lucien. First Mathias, now him. Coming from Mathias, he understood it and was touched. But Marc had never believed that Lucien was interested in anything except himself and the Great War. Interested, and committed even. Well, perhaps he had been mistaken about a lot of things lately.

‘Do you mind?’ said Lucien. ‘You look surprised.’

‘I was thinking of something else.’

‘I can guess what you were thinking. But forget it, it’s better to work in pairs. Vandoosler and Mathias here, you and me over there. Wars don’t get won single-handedly, look what happened to Dompierre. So, I’m coming with you. I’m used to archives too, and we’ll be quicker if there are two of us. Let me just pack a bag and let the school know I’ve got another dose of flu.’

‘OK,’ said Marc, ‘but hurry. The next train’s at 14.57 from the Gare d’usterlitz.’