Dog Will Have His Day (17 page)

‘I see,’ Darnas said. ‘I suppose now we’ll get a police inspector sent from Quimper. If it’s the tall dark one, it’ll be a disaster, but if it’s the little weedy-looking one, it might be better. The little thin one, I had dealings with him – four years ago, we had an accident here, a woman died in the shower, a tragedy, yes, but a pure accident, don’t get ideas – anyway, the little inspector, Guerrec, is very sharp. He is also very suspicious, he doesn’t trust anyone, which slows him up. You have to choose people to count on, otherwise you get bogged down. And another thing, he has an examining magistrate hovering over him, who’s haunted by the idea of failure. The magistrate orders people into custody at the drop of a hat, he grabs the first suspect that comes along, because he’s afraid of missing the real culprit. Being in too much of a hurry is bad too. Well, you’ll see. Although I presume you’re not going to stick around for the investigation? Your part in all this is over?’

‘I just want to see how Quimper plans to handle it. It’s kind of my baby, so I want to know who I’m handing it over to.’

‘Like for Pauline.’

‘We said to keep things separate.’

‘Right, let’s do that. What can I tell you that would help? In the first place, Kehlweiler, I like you.’

Louis looked at Darnas in stupefaction.

‘Yes, Kehlweiler, I like you. And while we’ll have to wait and see what damage you’re going to do me concerning Pauline, whom I love, as anyone who has known her well will perfectly understand, and while waiting for the traditional kind of rivalry to send us head to head – and indeed I feel sadly that I won’t have the upper hand, since as you have noted, I’m ugly, which you are not – waiting then for the possible moment which may shake the foundations of my life, I find totally intolerable the idea that someone bashed old Marie over the head. Yes, Kehlweiler, intolerable. And don’t count too much on the mayor to dish the dirt about his constituents, either to you or to the cops. He nurses every vote, and spends his life trying to avoid trouble, I don’t blame him, but he is – how shall I put it? – rather flaccid.’

‘On the surface or all the way through?’

Darnas pursed his lips.

‘Well, well, now, you’ve seen him. Nobody knows what’s underneath the surface with the mayor. He’s had two terms of office here, since coming down from Paris, and even after all this time, it’s impossible to find anything firm about him. Perhaps that’s the secret if you want to get elected. The best thing to do, if you want to be able to turn in any direction without seeming to, is to be smooth-edged, don’t you agree? Well, Chevalier is like something round, slippery and glossy, like a conger eel, a masterpiece in some ways. He’ll very rarely give you a straight answer, even if they seem straight to you.’

‘And what about yourself?’

‘I’m as capable of lying as the next man, naturally. Only a fool would deny that. But apart from the garden, I can’t see any connection between Marie and me.’

‘From the garden, she might easily get into the house.’

‘She did indeed, as I said. With the vegetables.’

‘And inside a house, you might find out a lot of things. Was she inquisitive?’

‘Ah, yes! Very! Like many people who live alone. She had Lina of course, and Lina’s children, whom she brought up, but the children are big now, both of them, and away at high school in Quimper. So she was around a lot on her own, especially after her husband disappeared, Diego, about five years ago I think, yes, about that. Two old folk who’d married late in life, and were very fond of each other, it was touching, you should have seen them. Yes, Kehlweiler, Marie was indeed a very inquisitive person. Which is why she accepted the rather sleazy job the mayor offered her.’

‘Do you mind if I take my toad out of my pocket? I didn’t mean to stay as long as this and I’m afraid he’s getting too hot.’

‘Well, well, now, go ahead,’ said Darnas, who was as little perturbed to see Bufo on his marble floor as if he had been a packet of cigarettes.

‘I’m listening,’ said Louis, picking up the kettle, now cool, and sprinkling a few drops on Bufo.

‘Why don’t we go and talk about that in the grounds? There are a lot of staff here, and as you found out this morning, anyone can just walk in. Your pet will be better off outside too. I like you, Kehlweiler, at least for the time being, and I will tell you about Marie and the dustbins, just between ourselves. Pauline is the only other person who knows about it. Other people may have found out though, Marie was less discreet than she thought. It’ll interest you.’

Louis stood up, sat back down to pick up Bufo and got up again.

‘You can’t bend your leg?’ asked Darnas. ‘The left one? I saw you were limping when you came in.’

‘Yes. I did my knee in during a particularly nasty investigation. It was after that that Pauline left.’

‘And you think that was the reason?’

‘I thought so. But now I’m not sure.’

‘Because when you set eyes on me, you told yourself that Pauline doesn’t set too much store on physical appearances? Well, well, now, you could be right. But let’s keep things separate, like we said.’

Louis moistened his hand, picked Bufo up, and both men went out into the grounds.

‘You really are rolling in it, aren’t you?’ said Louis, looking at the size of the pine forest.

‘Yes, I am. But look, this is what I wanted to talk about. About five years ago, this man came to live in our village. He bought a big villa, an ugly one, as ugly as this spa building, which is saying something. Nobody knows where his money comes from, he works at home. Nothing out of the ordinary at first sight, seems sociable enough, plays cards, talks loudly. You can’t miss him at the Market Cafe, he’s there every day, for a game, a big solid chap, all of a piece. Blanchet, his name is, René Blanchet, pushing seventy perhaps. Not very interesting then, I’d have nothing particular to do with him, except that he’s got it into his head that he wants to be our next mayor.’

‘Ah.’

‘He’s got time, another five years before the election, anything could happen. People like him. He’s a sort of local anti-immigrant campaigner. Port-Nicolas for the Port-Nicolas residents and no one else, which is a bit odd, considering he’s an incomer himself. But it goes down all right with some folk round here, as you can imagine.’

‘And you don’t like him?’

‘He bad-mouths me. René Blanchet mutters during his card games that the thalassotherapy centre brings foreigners into Port-Nicolas: Dutch, Germans, and worse, Spanish, other Latins, and worst of all, rich Arabs. Getting the picture now?’

‘Yes, indeed.’

‘And you are German yourself?’

‘Partly.’

‘Well, he’ll nose that out before long. He’s a dab hand at sniffing out foreigners.’

‘I’m not a foreigner, it’s just that my father is German,’ Louis said, smiling.

‘Well, for René Blanchet, you’ll be German all right, you’ll see. I could find ways to get him out of town, I have the means. But it’s not my style, Kehlweiler, believe it or not. I’m waiting to see what he’s up to, and I keep my eyes open, because things wouldn’t be nice in Port-Nicolas with him in charge. Better by far to have the smooth conger. And it was because I was keeping an eye on him that I discovered our dear old Marie was doing the same thing. That is to say, she was going through his dustbin after dark.’

‘On behalf of the mayor?’

‘Well, well, now. Here we put the bins out once a week, on Tuesday nights. And for the last seven or eight months, Marie was taking René Blanchet’s dustbin bags home, looking through them, then putting them back, tied up again, nobody the wiser. And next day, Marie would trot off to the town hall.’

Louis stopped and leaned against a tree trunk. He stroked Bufo automatically with one finger.

‘And the mayor’s afraid Blanchet is looking for some way to discredit him, before his term of office is up? Has Blanchet got something on him?’

‘Possibly, but you might also think the opposite. The mayor could be trying to find out more about Blanchet – what he’s up to, where he’s from – and hoping to pick up enough from the dustbin to sabotage him as a candidate when the time comes.’

‘Right. And if Marie was surprised by René Blanchet while she was going through his rubbish, he might have killed her?’

‘And if Marie had learned too much about the mayor from Blanchet’s dustbin,
he
might have killed her?’

The two men fell silent.

‘Dirty business,’ said Louis at last.

‘Dustbins are never very glorious.’

‘What about the Sevrans? What do you think of them?’

‘Apart from their ghastly pit bull, I have nothing but good to say about them. She’s impressive, beautiful rather than pretty, you probably noticed, and very reserved, except when her children are home, she changes completely then, much more fun. I think she’s bored to death here, frankly. Sevran is a pleasant enough companion, he’s intelligent, amusing, open, but there’s a big problem with his wretched machines. He’s mad about levers, pistons, gears, he goes all over the place finding his blessed typewriters, but then he does make his living from them. He’s a genuine collector, and he does good business with them, he deals, buys and sells, and that’s what they live off, believe me. He’s one of the big specialists in the country, European reputation, people come from all over. Lina has no interest in the machines, and he loves them too much. So, naturally, she’s going to be fed up. I’m just throwing that out, because in my case, I’d prefer it if Pauline was interested in machines for instance, rather than in you.’

‘Let’s keep things separate.’

Darnas looked up and scrutinised Louis’s face.

‘You’re examining me? Something wrong?’

‘I’m getting an idea, estimating the degree of risk.’

Darnas screwed up his small eyes and looked hard at Louis without moving. Finally he nodded and stirred the pine needles on the ground with his foot.

‘Well?’ asked Louis.

‘The danger is not negligible. I’ll have to think.’

‘So will I.’

‘Right, goodbye for now, Kehlweiler,’ said Darnas, holding out his hand. ‘Rest assured that I shall be following you closely, both on this case and regarding Pauline. If I can help you with the former and hinder you in the latter, it will be with the greatest pleasure. You can count on me.’

‘Thanks. And you have no idea what Marie might have found in the bins?’

‘Alas, no. I saw her doing it, that’s all. The mayor will be the only other person who knows, or possibly Lina Sevran. Marie was her nanny too. But before you get any information from either of them, you’d need to spend a number of hours in the cafe.’

‘Does Lina Sevran go to the cafe?’

‘Everyone does. Lina’s often there, watching her husband playing billiards or meeting her friends. It’s the only place to go for a chat in winter.’

‘Thanks,’ Louis said again.

He went towards the gates, dragging his leg, and could feel Darnas observing him from behind his back: he must be wondering whether or not this man with a limp was in with a chance. At any rate that was the question Louis was asking himself. He shouldn’t have seen Pauline again, that was clear. She hadn’t changed, except for place and surname, and now a slight sorrow was chasing round inside his head. And she had run away from him. Not surprisingly, considering he had behaved like a clumsy oaf. The most annoying thing about it was that he liked Darnas as well. If only
he
had killed Marie, that would be very convenient, of course. Darnas had been pretty keen to provide him with avenues to explore, useful ones in fact. A fine rain began to fall, which pleased Bufo. Louis did not hurry. He almost never did. He breathed in the scent of the pine trees, brought out by the moisture in the air. The smell of pines was very good, he wasn’t going to think about Pauline all day. He could do with a beer.

THE HEALTH SPA
was quite a distance from the market cafe, and Louis was walking slowly along the empty narrow road, as a cold shower began to drench the grass verges. His knee hurt. Seeing a milestone, he sat down on it with Bufo for a few moments. For once, he was trying not to think. He wiped the moisture off his forehead with his hand, and then looked up to see Pauline standing in front of him. Her expression did not look conciliatory. He struggled to get to his feet.

‘Stay sitting down, Ludwig,’ said Pauline. ‘You were the one who played silly buggers, so you can just stay where you are.’

‘OK. But I don’t want to talk.’

‘No? Then what the fuck were you doing in my place this morning? Coming in like that, talking like that. Who the hell do you think you are?’

Louis watched the grass grow wetter. Best to let Pauline have her say when she was angry, simplest way for it to settle down. In any case, she was completely in the right. And Pauline did have her say, for five long minutes, tearing strips off him with the energy she could put into a four hundred metres race. But at the end of the race, you have to stop.

‘Have you finished?’ asked Louis, looking up. ‘Fine, OK, I absolutely agree, you’re right in every respect, no need to say any more. I just wanted to call on you, no serious intention, and it wasn’t necessary to shut your door on me. Just a call, nothing else. Now it’s over, all right, no point shouting for hours about it, I don’t intend to bother you any more, I give you my word of honour as a German. And Darnas isn’t a bad chap. Not bad at all, and in fact better than that.’

Louis stood up. His knee hated damp weather.

‘Are you in pain?’ Pauline asked sharply.

‘It’s just the rain.’

‘You haven’t been able to get your leg fixed?’

‘No, spare me the sympathy, it stayed this way after you left.’

‘Loser!’

And off she went. Honestly, said Louis to himself, it wasn’t worth her while to have come after him. Still, if she’d shouted at him, she had good reason. He could do with a beer.

Marc appeared in the distance, on a bike.

‘I hired this for the day,’ he said, as he came to a stop by Louis. ‘I like cycling. It’s all over with the woman?’

‘Totally,’ said Louis. ‘Our relations are strained to the point of non-existence. The husband’s very interesting, I’ll tell you about him.’