Stay of Execution

39

Old soldiers are the same the world over, Skinner thought, as he looked at the Belgian veteran. Colonel Auguste Malou cut an imposing figure in his civilian clothes; he was a little overweight, but he had a crispness about him, a neatness that the Scot recognized as the mark of the military man.

Nonetheless, he was also extremely distressed; his moustache quivered as he spoke. ‘It was terrible, gentlemen, most terrible,’ he said, in accented English that was as precise as his dress. The shock of his friend’s death was still written all over his face.

The two detectives had not told him the reason for their visit, but his host, Major Alfred Tubbs, another old soldier, turned farmer rather than bandsman, was worldly enough to know that a deputy chief constable and a detective chief superintendent did not turn out in the aftermath of an ordinary sudden death. He hovered in the background as Skinner spoke to Malou.

‘I’m sure it was,’ the DCC replied. ‘As I understand it you found him, that was all.’

‘That’s right. Bart went to the bathroom to shave and freshen up for dinner. . he had a very heavy beard and often shaved twice a day. He didn’t come back quick and I wanted in there, so I went to give him a hurry-up call. He did not answer my call, so I went in and found him on the floor.’

‘He had been brushing his teeth, I understand.’

Malou nodded. ‘Yes. There was paste all around. At first I thought he was having a fit and was foaming at the mouth, but then I took a closer look. I’ve seen dead men before, sir. You can believe that. I’ve seen them blown up, seen them with their throats cut, seen them with bullets through their brains, but their eyes were all the same. When I saw Bart’s eyes, I didn’t need any lady doctor to tell me he was dead.’

Major Tubbs tapped Skinner on the shoulder. ‘What’s this about?’ he asked quietly.

The deputy chief constable saw no need for further delay. Quietly he told both men about the outcome of the autopsy on Lebeau. Malou stared up at him, his ruddy face suddenly devoid of colour. Tubbs gasped. ‘In my house? This happened in my house?’

‘I’m afraid so. Technically it’s subject to confirmation, and I’ve got our toxicologist working on tissue samples right now, but I can’t afford to wait for that. There are all sorts of considerations, and the most pressing is that of public safety.’ He looked at the Belgian. ‘Colonel Malou, do you still have the toothpaste that Monsieur Lebeau used?’

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘It’s still in the bathroom, and so is his toothbrush.’

‘Thank your lucky stars you didn’t use it yourself,’ Dan Pringle exclaimed.

‘I thank those stars that I have false teeth, sir,’ the bandleader retorted.

‘Do you know, by any chance,’ asked Skinner, ‘where your friend bought the toothpaste he used?’

Malou shook his grey head. ‘I have no idea.’

‘Then we’ll have to look through his effects, to see if we can find a receipt. It’s vital that we identify the source.’ He turned back to Tubbs. ‘Major, we have a forensic team on the way here. I’m afraid there’s going to be a degree of disturbance to your household. You might like to explain to your wife what’s happening. But please, ask her not to talk to anyone about it in the meantime. This has to be kept quiet until we have some answers; I cannot afford to start a public panic.’