An hour later, Katherine and Philippe arrived back at Simone’s. Their faces mirrored a mix of concern and relief.
Simone was now looking her composed and put-together self. Along with Véronique and Gilles, she was sipping a glass of wine and offered some to Kat and Philippe.
Coco was curled up asleep in a basket of cushions.
“Rocco is not out of the woods yet,” Kat reported, taking a long sip from her glass. “Merci, Simone. They are doing surgery to open the wound on his leg, clean it out and stitch it up. He has a fever from infection … and—” Kat’s voice broke and she struggled for control.
Philippe took over the story, “And he is extremely weak. However, the vet feels Rocco ultimately will recover. He says this young man saved his life by using the most basic methods. We owe him our thanks.”
He looked over at Abdalla, who was now sound asleep on the sofa, wrapped in Simone’s cashmere throws.
Véronique said, “We sent him to take a shower. Gilles called Didier, who brought over some old work shirts and jeans. The poor kid is swimming in them, but he is clean. He did not want to lie down, but when we insisted he was asleep within minutes.”
Simone’s brow was furrowed, and her voice concerned. “We have heard quite a story while you were gone. This will hopefully be a happy ending for Rocco—and for Abdalla. We must try to do something for this young man.”
Véronique’s voice was solemn. “Mon Dieu! He has told us of his entire journey, and I agree he deserves our help.”
Kat and Philippe looked to Gilles for his reaction, and he quietly shared what they had learned. “Abdalla seems to be around seventeen or eighteen. His father is a farmer, and Abdalla helped on the farm since he was a small child, even while attending school at the same time. He speaks French quite well, along with a smattering of English. When the military came into their village and began shooting for no reason, his family sent him off with their blessing to find a better life. He left with his best friend. They made their way through the jungle and across Chad, crossing the Sahara jammed in the back of a pickup truck with twenty-some other men. Reached Libya. Then they paid an atrocious amount to take a boat to Italy.”
An air of sadness hung over them, in spite of their relief that Rocco had been found. This story was hard to process.
Gilles continued, “As we hear so often, the boat capsized. Abdalla was picked up by the Italian Navy but he lost all of his documents, shoes—everything.”
“And his friend?” Kat asked.
“Never seen again. Abdalla hopes he survived somehow.” Véronique filled in for Gilles. Her eyes glistened with tears. “Even though we read about these stories, it is simply heartbreaking to hear it firsthand. The poor kid walked all the way through Italy to Vintimille and stayed in the camp there for a few months trying to contact his family.”
“Sans succés,” Gilles said.
“Yes, no luck at all. He doesn’t know if his family is still alive or if they know what happened to him. When he lost his papers, he also lost the information about relatives in France,” Simone told them. “The authorities were about to send him and a large group of other Africans back to Libya, so he snuck away and swam along the coast to France.
“Some French-Algerian fishermen picked him up and brought him to Antibes. They felt sorry for him and understood what he had been through. He worked for them and they fed him, but he wanted off the boat.”
“But how did he find this cave? How did he come to have Rocco?” Kat asked.
Gilles took up the story again. “Trying to find a hiding place, he found the cave by sheer accident. He thought he would climb up, hide in our woods, and rest. Then he discovered the opening in the rocks when his foot slipped in the crevice. Surprisingly, it led to a small cave deep within. He planned to stay just for a few days. Someone had told him to try to get to Marseilles. He went out that first night and scavenged from the cans outside restaurants. Then the next day, Rocco fell through a hole on your property leading into the roof of the cave.”
“What? Where?” Kat and Philippe were surprised they had not noticed it in all the searching they had done.
Véronique shook her head. “Rocco gashed his leg on a sharp rock edge and lost a lot of blood. There is a smaller wound on his head. He actually was stuck partway down, and Abdalla cut his arm helping him get unstuck. He knows a lot about animals and about treating illness and injury with plants from his family’s farm. He’s resourceful. He would slip out at night to find food in trash cans and got a container for Rocco’s water. Sometimes he found edibles in nearby potagers like Simone’s.”
“Bien sûr, some late potatoes and turnips. He stole my sheet, too!” Simone said. Then her voice softened. “Now that I know why it was taken, I’m glad I could help in some way.”
“I’m sure we will find out more in the next few days,” Véronique speculated.
“Alors, que devrions-nous faire?” Gilles asked. “What are we going to do?”
“Let’s not do anything for now. We will come up with a plan tomorrow,” Philippe said, after quickly conferring with Kat. “We’re not going to call Mercier yet, en tout cas.”
“And what about that box? If he lost everything, where did that box come from? Did he explain that?” Kat asked.
“He claimed he found it when he was diving in the sea early the other morning, trying to catch a fish,” Simone explained. “He was pretty sure it would fit in the crevice and thought he could use it as a small table. It appears to be sealed all around and is not very heavy.”
Philippe mentioned to Gilles that he had noticed no markings on it. “Let’s have a look at it again.”
They got up and went into the front foyer. Philippe brought the box into the kitchen and put it on the island. There did not appear to be any way of opening it.
Simone examined it suspiciously and suddenly was very interested. Her voice was authoritative as she said, “We should call Thibideau about the box right this minute.”
“What’s he got to do with this?” the others all asked at once.
“Croyez-moi,” Simone murmured, her eyes wide with disbelief, “he needs to see this. It’s only five o’clock. Philippe, please call him. Do you want his number?”
Everyone looked at Simone with wonder.
Kat was puzzled. She and Philippe exchanged looks that asked, How and why does she have Thibideau’s phone number?
Kat made a mental note to get to the bottom of that. Her suspicions still lingered from that business with the drug cartel the previous year.
Philippe placed the call. He explained they were at the home of Madame Garnier and in possession of a strange metal box that had been found in the cove across from their properties. At Thibideau’s request, he took a photo of the box and messaged it to him immediately.
Calm and cool as always, Philippe thought, as the commissaire said he would be there within the hour.
24
Another situation took on urgency now: what to do about Abdalla. He could not be seen by the commissaire. The migrant situation in France was increasing each year, and the rules were clear. Abdalla was in the country illegally, and harboring him was clearly a punishable offense.
Kat had to smile at Simone’s prudent approach to the immediate situation.
“Pas de problem! I will close the doors to the salon, and we will just meet in the kitchen. It is more than big enough with plenty of places for us all to sit. We don’t need to disturb the poor boy. He is out cold, anyway. Time will help us resolve the situation.”
Gilles had been quietly processing all that was happening. “At the risk of sounding paranoid, we need to be sure that the windows and doors here are secure, Simone. Our young friend is living with great fear, and I would not be surprised if he tried to leave.”
Philippe agreed and suggested the two of them do an outside inspection of all possible ways to exit.
“When you finish, I will turn on the security system for the house, except for the kit
chen,” Simone told them. “Now let’s have something to eat. I have a pot of cassoulet in the frigo that I made yesterday and was going to freeze in small batches. It should do us—and we all know cassoulet is infinitely better the second day!”
“It’s a good day for cassoulet,” Philippe commented, “with a touch of winter finally in the air.”
Katherine and Véronique leapt into action, and after a half hour reheat in the oven, the meal was on the table along with a baguette and a green salad with vinaigrette.
“J’ai la fringale!” Gilles exclaimed, patting his stomach.
“Now that you mention it, I’m starving, too,” Kat said. “I was so worried about Rocco, I’ve hardly eaten these past few days.”
Murmurs of appreciation accompanied the hearty meal, with its delicious combination of duck, sausage, beans, and tomato sauce, all smothered in buttery, garlic-laced bread crumbs.
They were still sitting around the table, some enjoying a second helping, when Inspecteur Thibideau arrived. His car was followed by an ominous-looking police van. Two armed officers stepped into the driveway and began to inspect around the house.
Philippe knew better than to ask questions as he greeted the commissaire at the door.
“Bonjour, Inspecteur. I don’t know what this is all about, but Simone insisted we ca—” Philippe began.
Thibideau cut him off sharply. “C’est pas nécessaire.”
Simone was right behind Philippe, and Thibideau greeted her with warm bises. “Entrez, inspecteur,” she said. Then he acknowledged Kat with a formal nod. She in turn introduced Gilles and Véronique.
Then he lifted his nose to capture the aroma in the kitchen. “Cassoulet? Ton cassoulet, madame?” he asked Simone.
At her invitation, he joined the others at the table and was soon expressing adulation for the meal. “I see my timing could not be better! Ma chère madame, I have never known you to create anything less than a masterpiece in your kitchen—comme tes peintures.”
Simone modestly bowed her head to him, with the hint of a smile.
The inspector knows about her cooking—and her painting ? And he uses the familiar “tu” with her, Kat thought, as she noticed Philippe’s perplexed expression. One of these days, I hope Simone will explain her connection to him.
After a fine selection of cheeses, slices of tarte tatin (with some sent out to the officers outside), and coffee had been served, Thibideau said, “Eh bien. La boîte et l’histoire. The box and the story.”
Philippe took the box from the cupboard where it had been hidden and placed it on the counter. Thibideau, after one quick glance, turned to Simone. “Tu as raison! You are correct. No mistake.”
He carried the box to the door and handed it to an officer, who disappeared into the back of the van with it.
During the moment he was at the door, Simone whispered to the group, “We have to tell him about Abdalla now that the box is what I thought it was. We have no other choice.”
Thibideau spoke sternly now to Simone, as he assumed his official persona. “You knew right away, and now you must tell me how it came to be in your possession.”
“Another slice of tarte, inspecteur? More coffee? It’s a long story.”
25
When all the details of the afternoon had been revealed, there was an air of tension in the room as they waited for the normally taciturn Thibideau’s reaction.
He had remained expressionless as they described Rocco’s disappearance and the search for him. His eyebrows did raise when he heard about Simone’s foray with Victor Hugo to the bottom of the garden.
“Tu l’as fait, madame?” he asked, implying his concern that Simone had gone there with only the help of Victor Hugo.
Kat began to explain about Simone’s hearing acuity. She blinked in surprise as the commissaire cut her short and nodded knowingly. Then she finished with the details of discovering Abdalla and Rocco and the box.
She stopped speaking as Thibideau’s phone vibrated with a text. He stood up and moved to the side of the room to read it. All eyes were on him. He looked briefly at Simone, his eyes conveying a message to her.
She responded with a nod and the hint of a smile.
“Where is this young man now?” Thibideau asked.
No one spoke. Then Simone said, “He is here. Asleep from exhaustion and malnourishment. We want to help him. As Katherine told you, he speaks French quite well. Can someone connect him with his family? Find out about relatives here? Surely something can be done. He obviously has done a service—not just in keeping Rocco alive, but, more important to you, in finding the box.”
The commissaire steepled his fingers together and sat quietly contemplating.
“Yes. It is remarkable that he found the box. Of course, he has no idea what it means to us. And we have no option but to take him in.”
No one moved as they stared intently at Thibideau.
“Really, we should call Mercier because the young man was discovered locally. But I am not going to do that. Mercier would be obliged to turn him over to the local immigration officers. I will hold him as a witness to the retrieval of this box. He will be comfortable and safe in our detention. I cannot divulge any more information now. When I am at liberty to discuss this, I will be certain to let you know. I believe we may be able to do something for this young man, but there is a process to be followed. Leave it to me.”
Simone spoke up, her voice filled with concern. “Surely he does not need to be sent back to Cameroon or into one of those dreadful holding places crammed with humanity. He seems a kind, smart, and very frightened young man from the little bit I saw.”
Thibideau looked sad and pensive. “Je sais. The fact is, many of these migrants fit that description. It’s an incredibly tragic state of affairs—a humanitarian disaster.”
A subdued conversation ensued, and Thibideau said they would be able to visit Abdalla in detention in Nice. Philippe and Gilles went in together to wake up the teenager, then brought him into the kitchen. His eyes flitted nervously from one face to another.
The commissaire asked him to take a seat. With the others around him, Thibideau explained what would happen in the coming weeks and assured Abdalla that he would be safe. “Young man, the box you discovered in the sea is of great importance to us. We are indebted to you and will help you, but you will need to be patient. These things take time. I promise you will not be sent back to the migrant camp.”
Abdalla appeared to be confused. He was worried about his borrowed clothes, and whether he could keep them.
“We will bring you some more things tomorrow when we find out what is allowed,” Philippe told him. “Please trust us. We are deeply grateful to you for saving our dog, and we will do what we can to help you.”
He gestured to the commissaire and said, “Do not be afraid. These are good police who will make certain you are safe. You need to trust them, too.”
Then Thibideau apologized to Abdalla. “Désolé, nous devons vous menottez. It’s procedure to put handcuffs on.”
Everyone felt terrible as Thibideau called in one of the officers, who put plastic zip ties around Abdalla’s wrists and took him out to the van. The boy turned and bowed to Gilles and the others on his way out. “I wait to hear from you. Please.”
Their voices followed him with reassurances.
Inspecteur Thibideau said his goodbyes and thanked them all profusely. “You will discover in due course what this box represents. All I can say now is that our department is grateful.”
He looked at Simone, took her hand, and bowed slightly to her. “Madame Garnier, once again you have been of tremendous assistance. And your cassoulet lived up to your reputation.”
Simone modestly brushed aside the compliments and chuckled. “Inspecteur, you are most welcome to share a meal at my table any time.”
After the police had gone, the friends returned to the salon and talked quietly for another hour. The vet called with an update on Rocco’s condition, which
was still dicey.
“Minou, let’s go home,” said Philippe. “I think we all need a decent night’s sleep.”
Katherine agreed. “It’s been a big day, all right. Véronique, our simple lunch date turned into quite an adventure.”
“D’accord!” Véronique exclaimed. “C’est bien vrai! Too true! I need to go home and go to bed. But I will check on Abdalla in the morning. The detention center is not far from us.”
Everyone expressed their relief that Rocco had been found. Praise and accolades were heaped on Simone, who modestly waved off their words.
Coco was excited to go home. Kat told her over and over that her brother was going to be back soon. “We’ve got to try to find the hole that Rocco fell through and patch it up.”
26
Christmas was just one week away.
Katherine realized her anxieties were almost gone. The all-consuming worry about Rocco and the events of the past few days had put everything else in perspective. Simone had assured her that the drug cartel issue had been resolved with the discovery of the box. Kat knew better than to ask for details and welcomed the relief she felt.
Now she was truly focused on creating a celebration. Her confidence had returned. She would do her best and trust that everyone would be happy. Looking around and finally appreciating the decorating she, Philippe, and Andrew had accomplished, she began to feel the Christmas spirit taking over.
That morning Kat took Coco for a lengthy walk along the sea and over to the port. She couldn’t help noticing most of the yachts were decorated with ropes of colored lights, flags, and wreaths. She chuckled at how the figure of Père Noël was positioned in creative postures from some of the masts.
After their walk, Kat caught the late-morning yoga class she usually attended. Her friend Annette was waiting for her. She had been keeping up with Kat over texts.
The First Noël at the Villa des Violettes Page 13