She found the rest of the family in the studio, where her main concern now was to reassure Luc: no, she said, as she accepted Dorian from his arms, she hadn’t known that Cyril was going to appear, he was on a different mission entirely, and as for working on the case with him, nothing could be further from her mind. Besides, she added, glancing at Magali for confirmation, if the rumours were anything to go by, Thibault Seibel would be arrested within hours. Magali didn’t answer, but the pressed lips and raised eyebrows told her it might not be that simple. Tatty was all for going next door to find out, until reminded the garden was out of bounds, whereupon she declared she was going to test the energy flow in the Zenhouse: if it was as good as Adeline claimed, she herself would solve the case in a jiffy.
‘Ah, your aunt Fernande,’ sighed Luc when she was gone. ‘However would the world manage without her?’
‘Mummy, do these go in my nature box?’ Chloé appeared at her side with a handful of pebbles.
‘Nature? Do you mean your treasure box?’
‘No, I’ve got a nature box too now.’ She picked up a shoe box from the floor containing a layer of dried moss, leaves and twigs. ‘I started it with Papa.’
‘Ooh, that’s pretty! Um, pebbles... Sort of, I suppose. But they’re not alive so... maybe they go in the treasure box.’
‘Nature,’ Luc said firmly. ‘They’re not man made, are they? That’s the criterion.’
‘Well, there you go. If Papa says nature, nature it is.’ The matter was as clear-cut to Luc as the classing of African fetishes as junk.
At that point Pico appeared in the doorway and beckoned Sophie away.
‘A little background first.’ They were sitting on the terrace, Pico’s gaze roaming over the garden, only occasionally glancing at Sophie as if to confirm that he wasn’t speaking to himself. ‘You may be aware that I’m now in the Marseille Research Unit – where I’m kept very busy – but one affair I’m looking into concerns a mining company swindled out of half a million euros. I won’t concern you with the details, but the operation centred on a project to extract rutile – a precious mineral found in sand – from a beach in Cameroun. The reason Captain Eveno is here is to look into the possible involvement of Eddy Ferrucci. Whether he played a significant part is unclear – perhaps not. The scam was perpetrated by individuals purporting to be from the Qatar Investment Authority, so Ferrucci may have been no more than an intermediary. Now, the murder next door was obviously unexpected, and upsets the apple cart a little. My first thought was to hold back on Ferrucci until the matter next door was settled, but Eveno made the point that he now has a good opportunity to observe Ferrucci without revealing what he’s really after. There’s the further consideration that Lieutenant Bondy is looking into the cause of the fire up the road, in which it’s been suggested that Ferrucci may have had a hand.’
He fell silent, grey eyes narrowed as if scanning something in the distance. The endless fight, perhaps, against lawlessness and disorder, where he was reduced to a futile attempt to stop it spilling out, like sticking tape to a long, rusty pipe. Wherever you turned, lawlessness seeped and dripped, spurted and gushed, and the tape was hopelessly thin. Then he leant forward, clasping his hands, and the eyes locked directly onto her own. ‘And then of course, there’s you.’
‘Me?’
‘I never got back in touch with you, did I? We mentioned a mission a few months back, which Eveno was keen for you to be part of. Premature, I thought, but as I recall, you didn’t object to the idea. It went ahead with someone else but it was a fiasco. Never mind the details. I’ll give you a mission here instead. Now this is a criminal investigation, probably quite straightforward, which a PI wouldn’t normally get involved in. So I’m not expecting you to. But I’d like a report all the same.’
‘A report?’
‘Not on the crime itself but on the investigation. The manner in which it’s conducted.’
‘But how...’ She shook her head, bewildered. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.’
‘Oh, nothing exhaustive, don’t go out of your way. Just your personal impression as an outside observer.’
‘Might I ask you why?’
‘Of course.’ For the first time, he smiled. And he smiled in such a way that for the first time too, she saw that he was capable of mischief. ‘I know Captain Praud very well. Before moving to Aix, he worked under me in Aubagne. Captain Eveno too, as you know, but only for a year before I got my promotion. Now, it so happens that in my department, following the retirement of a colleague, a position is vacant to which both of them have applied. A decision will be made in the coming weeks.’ He folded his arms, the smile broadening as he left her to fill in the implication.
‘So you want me...’ She couldn’t help a whistle of air from escaping. ‘It’s rather... I didn’t expect –’
‘Let me reassure you, Madame Kiesser.’ He held out a hand. ‘Your report will be one among many other considerations, most of them more important. It will also remain strictly confidential. But if you’d rather not do it, I understand.’
‘No, it’s fine, I... I don’t know if I can be very objective. I know the one much better than the other.’
‘I’m aware of that. What you write will be based on what you observe, but we often only see what we want or expect to find. But you know that yourself, and I’m sure you’ll strive to take it into account.’ Slapping the table with both hands, he stood up abruptly. ‘How’s the jiu-jitsu coming along, by the way?’
‘Oh, um... Nicely, thank you. Blue belt now. But then I stopped because I was pregnant. Temporarily. I’ll go back to classes next month.’
‘Good. I do taekwondo myself.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better be going.’
‘General Pico, excuse me but...’ She jumped to her feet, almost stumbling in her urgency. ‘When you arrived, they were arguing about who was in charge. I think you heard.’
‘Yes, I did. Like a pair of stags locking antlers.’
‘Captain Eveno said you’d adjudicate. Have you...?’
‘Yes, indeed. As far as the murder investigation is concerned, Eveno will be taking his instructions from Captain Praud.’
Chapter 12 The Secret Sketchbook
Though he had a clean nappy, and a bottle of milk inside him, Dorian was resisting sleep when Magali came into the bedroom. ‘No good?’
‘Just too hot, I think.’ Sophie removed him from the cot and held him on her shoulder. ‘Aren’t you, sonny boy? His forehead’s all damp.’
‘It’s a tiny bit cooler downstairs.’ She sat on the bed. ‘Perhaps we could put the cot in the Zenhouse. Fernande says the vibes are conducive. Though quite to what, I’m not sure.’
‘Probably not sleep, knowing her. Identifying the murderer, more like.’
‘Pico didn’t stay long.’
Sophie smiled. As if it wasn’t hot enough already, Magali was now burning with curiosity. ‘A busy man, I think. Busting international crime – a little murder like this hardly figures on his radar.’ She moved Dorian to her lap, where he played with the cord on her dress. ‘No mission abroad, if that’s what you’re wondering, though he did mention it. Maybe one day but right now he wants me to spy on the two captains. They’re after the same job in Marseille so he wants my opinion. He said observe, not spy, but that’s what it is. Spying on Cyril.’
‘And Praud.’
‘I don’t see how. At least I have access to Cyril whenever I want. I’m sure Pico knows that. So basically it’s spying on Cyril. Pico wants a report. A pair of tomcats fighting over territory? What the hell can I say?’
‘Pico moves in mysterious ways. I wouldn’t sweat it too much. You won’t be his only source, far from it. Could be more about you than them if he’s really thinking of giving you work in future.’
‘And you say not to sweat it? I’d love to work for Pico!’
Since getting her diploma, the question of how committed Sophie was to the job loomed much larger than before. Unti
l now she’d been winging it, getting by because she wasn’t qualified – nothing to lose, a bit of fun, in part cooperation, part competition with Cyril. But the stakes were higher now, and Pico’s interest in her raised them higher still. And the more her mind was occupied with missions abroad and murders, the less room it could make for a mislaid mojo.
‘It’s a tricky one, sure. But what I mean is there’s no point trying to second-guess what Pico’s after. Just write what you observe, like he says.’
‘He ruled in favour of Praud, you know, for the murder investigation. Cyril was so confident it would be him. He’s not going to take that well.’
‘Yes, I spoke to him. I don’t know if he’d been lurking around the corner or what, but as soon as you left he was there on the terrace. Didn’t look happy at all. He said Praud’s already interviewing Martin Best, taken Bondy with him, and pretty much told Cyril to piss off. Which he did. Marched away as if he was about to murder someone himself.’
‘Oh, dear. I don’t think he’s used to a snub like that. And coming from Pico, it’s worse – he tries so desperately to please him. And always has as far as I know. It’s a real slap in the face.’
‘I wouldn’t read too much into it. Praud’s older, surely been in the rank for longer, so on seniority alone he gets the nod. Plus it’s normal procedure. The Prosecutor’s in Aix, this is Praud’s patch. Just because Cyril happened to get here first doesn’t give him precedence. If he’s a sensible tomcat, he’ll suck it up and move on.’
‘Let’s hope so. And since he’s not in charge, he has no reason to work with me, which is all to the good. I can get on with the workshops and Luc will be happy.’ She held Dorian up above her face. ‘Won’t he, you little rascal? Giggling away just like you. Fully awake now, aren’t you? Might as well go downstairs.’
Back in the studio, despite the morning’s disruption, Claire at least was making the most of her time, diligently copying from the photograph book, tongue protruding in concentration as she worked. At the other end of the table, Lyle was writing in a notebook. ‘In the leisure room,’ he said before Sophie even asked. ‘Your daughter thrashed me at Snap. I’m nursing my wounded pride.’
Magali went next door to see, taking Dorian with her, while Sophie strolled over to look at Claire’s drawing. ‘Nice. Prettier than the photo itself.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just to keep me busy. And for the discipline. My usual stuff’s all over the place.’
Sophie read from the book. ‘Ophrys Bombyliflora. The bumblebee orchid, native to the Mediterranean region.’
‘Lovely name, isn’t it? They’ve got one next door. They’re quite rare apparently.’
‘At the nursery?’
‘They’ve got a whole collection, Adeline says.’ Suddenly she tossed the crayon down, letting out a rasp of irritation.
‘I’m sorry. I’m disturbing. I’ll let you get on.’
‘No, it’s not you, just... thinking of next door.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s so tasteless!’
‘Tasteless?’ Strange way to describe a murder. ‘Bit of an understatement there. A crime like that –’
‘No, I don’t mean... But their games. Martin’s grotesque. Acting as if it’s all a bit of a lark.’
‘Martin? I thought he was being interviewed.’
‘Well, he’s back now. All jolly and chipper, pretending it’s an Agatha Christie mystery.’
‘Christie? How so?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, going on about some formula she had. And saying we’ve got it here, the different ingredients. Him and Eddy, egging each other on.’
‘They’ve made up? Well, that’s something anyway. After last night’s fisticuffs.’
‘Eddy thinks he’s just got to apply this stupid formula to write a bestseller. But this is real! The poor man next door has lost his father. It’s no time to play games.’
‘Mmm. Rather tasteless, indeed.’ But again, Claire’s reaction seemed excessive. Is she just too sensitive for this world? Or has she got something to hide? ‘Pointless as well, I imagine. I don’t know what ingredients they mean, but they’ll be next door if anywhere. A family business, sparks between father and son...Maybe there’s no need to look any further.’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. That’s what the police are for.’
‘Of course. Difficult not to, though. Right next door.’ She left a pause. ‘And to think we were there only yesterday and Seibel had you running away screaming.’
Claire looked up sharply. ‘It was nothing. I get these... I don’t know, fits of anxiety, that’s all. I told you, like Munch.’ She gave a brief, mirthless laugh. ‘Existential angst.’
‘Excuse me, is this yours?’ Lyle, who all this time had been scribbling away, moved to pick up a notebook from the floor. ‘It just fell out of your bag.’
‘Yes!’ Claire jumped up. ‘My... my sketchbook.’
‘Oh. Where you draw like Munch?’ He started flipping through it. ‘Mind if I look?’
‘No!’ Claire lunged, snatched it away from him, and stuffed it into the bag on the bench beside her. Then, realising that once again her reaction had been startling, she muttered, ‘I’m sorry, it’s just... I’d rather not. They’re first drafts, nothing to them.’
The moment passed, Claire blushing down to her chest, Lyle apologising stiffly before returning to his seat. Left behind was the knowledge of something strange, embarrassing to them all. Something hidden too, because Sophie had glimpsed the pages and now was wondering why, if it was a sketchbook, it contained nothing but words.
No use pursuing it, not with Claire like that. She was about to change the subject, smooth the incident over, when Isadora appeared in the doorway. ‘Oh, here you are.’ She stood, hands on hips, filling the studio with her presence. But the joy was missing – no laughter now but a sombre, no-nonsense tone as she declared, ‘A new development. Gareth wants us all in the leisure room. The gendarmes are moving into the house.’ She pressed her knuckles to her cheeks. ‘No one’s to leave until they’ve questioned us all.’
Chapter 13 One Of Us
They all went back to the leisure room. The only person not present was Penelope Best. In the hushed, dramatic tone of a co-conspirator, Tatty Fur informed Sophie of developments: Martin had given no details, except to say that as soon as he saw the body, he ran to tell Thibault Seibel, who rang the gendarmerie in Moudiret. What Martin had been doing there in the first place, no one knew. Once the gendarmes were informed, he’d come back to Venturi View, where he announced Henri’s murder before going upstairs to comfort Penelope. Then he returned next door to await the arrival of the gendarmes. He’d been questioned twice already, once by Cyril, now again by Praud. ‘Twice!’ Tatty repeated. ‘They must think he did it!’
‘Normal procedure, Tatty. He was the first on the scene.’
‘By two different gendarmes though. Isn’t that odd?’
‘A bit complicated. I’ll explain later. What is odd is why Penelope should need comforting.’ She recalled the encounter on the stairs. Not a bout of colic at all. What, then? But there wasn’t time to speculate because Gareth and Adeline were at the fireplace, holding hands as they waited for everyone to settle. Sophie faced the front, Dorian quietly attentive in her lap, clearly approving of the way the plot was developing.
‘First of all,’ Gareth began, relinquishing Adeline’s hand to clasp his own together, ‘my wife and I would like to say that our thoughts are with Thibault Seibel and his wife Jackie. In the two years we’ve been here, they’ve always made us feel welcome, giving us precious advice for the garden, and generally been excellent neighbours. I’ve rung them to express our condolences, and at the first opportunity, we’ll be going in person but obviously we can’t do that just yet. As you’re well aware, a murder investigation is under way, conducted by Captain Praud, who tells me he’s replacing Captain Eveno, whom you saw earlier. We – I mean all of us here – will of course do all we can to help. That means not l
eaving the house itself until we’re allowed, and making ourselves available to be interviewed when we’re asked. Captain Praud assures me there’s nothing to be alarmed about – it’s standard practice, we’re just helping in the enquiry. It should all be over soon, and we’ll be able to get on with the week’s course as planned. Probably not this afternoon, I’m afraid, as the interviews will be taking place, but tomorrow. Just to confirm, in the writing group with me will be Martin and Penelope Best, Lyle Carmichael, Eddy Ferrucci, and Isadora Waverley, while Adeline will have the painting group with Claire Bourane, Maya Ferrucci, Sophie Kiesser and Fernande Raynal.’
‘And you’re welcome,’ Adeline said, addressing Magali, ‘to join in if you want. I know you didn’t sign up for the course itself, but there’s still room. I’ve got activities for Chloé too, no problem.’
Magali nodded. ‘Thank you. I’m really here to help with the children, but we’ll talk it over and let you know.’
‘So the first day’s out,’ Eddy said. ‘Twenty percent of the course. We’ll get reimbursed for that, naturally.’
‘If you don’t mind, maybe we can discuss that later?’ Gareth pressed his palms together, pleading. ‘Adeline and I haven’t had time to talk about it yet.’
‘Fine.’ Eddy held up his hand. ‘As long as you don’t forget. The whole thing’s a rip-off already, I don’t want to be swindled out of any more.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Maya turned away, hitting the cushion beside her.
‘Come on, darling,’ Eddy sneered. ‘What the hell are you expecting to learn from these jokers? If you suckers’ – his gesture took in all of the guests – ‘are willing to be taken for a ride, that’s your affair. Personally, I think there’s a pretty good case for leaving right now and demanding the whole lot back.’
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