Murder on French Leave

by Anne Morice

  I unrolled the ball and smoothed it out on the blotter. There was an envelope addressed simply: ‘Ellen’, and one sheet of paper. They were both of the brand called ‘Bonde Parisien’, of which there were several pads in the flat, and doubtless in half the other flats of Paris. The message was as follows:

  Drop everything, hop in a taxi and meet me at Fouquet’s. Something exciting has turned up and no time to be lost. Explain when I see you. Love, T.

  (iii)

  ‘It’s not my writing,’ I told Robin. ‘You do realise that?’

  ‘It’s not even particularly like your writing. The mystery is that Ellen should have been fooled by it.’

  ‘There’s a reason for that. It’s not so unlike the way I wrote when my hand was bound up.’

  ‘Where do you suppose she found it?’

  ‘Downstairs in our mail-box, presumably. I expect she wanted to go to the bathroom and came upstairs to read it. That would account for her being in my bedroom.’

  ‘Well, try not to worry. It’s probably just someone having a joke. Jonathan, most likely. Has her cap gone too, by the way?’

  Despite his assurances, I could tell that he was a mite worried himself, and when I informed him that the cap was not in the flat he made two telephone calls. The first was to Fouquet’s, but no one answering Ellen’s description or wearing her distinctive headgear had been seen there. The second was to someone at the Sûreté. The whole performance took no more than seven or eight minutes, but I was in a frenzy of impatience, lest Ellen should be trying to telephone us.

  ‘I’ll go down there myself, presently,’ Robin said, referring to his second call. ‘I can probably stir them up a bit quicker in that way, but first of all I want to get a few things sorted out. Assuming for the moment that it isn’t some feeble joke, who is there in Paris who has seen your handwriting? Lupe?’

  ‘Well, yes, I’ve left her shopping lists and so on; but you can’t seriously suspect Lupe, Robin. She hardly speaks a word of English, certainly not enough to have written that foul note.’

  ‘We can’t exclude anyone at the moment. Who else?’

  ‘Practically everyone,’ I admitted hopelessly. ‘The Müllers, for a start. You made me write that note about the hairdresser.’

  ‘How about Jonathan? I still think he’s probably at the bottom of it. I daresay he wanted to see Ellen and was afraid she would refuse, after his tiresome behaviour yesterday.’

  ‘In a way, he’s had more opportunities than anyone. He delivered a note for Adela and he could also have seen the one which Ellen posted to Mrs Müller. That applies to Pêche, too. She was nosing through my desk and the letter was lying there, in full view.’

  ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Yes, there’s Adela. The only thing is that I wrote to her before I got bitten by the hysterical poodle, so she ought to have made a better job of it. And, if you include Adela, you must put in Reg Baker, as well, because I bet she showed him my letter.’

  ‘And that’s the lot?’

  ‘No, there’s still Sven. He got a fine specimen off me, much more like this forgery than the real thing, because I was worried and bemused, not to mention slightly high, when I scribbled down our address at the airport. But still, he’s the one person we can rule out.’

  Robin looked down at his shoes and then up again:

  ‘No, we can’t, Tessa.’

  ‘Oh, come now! Seeing he’s safely behind bars.’

  ‘Not any more. As from ten this morning, he’s a free man.’

  ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘No, I’m not. There’ve been what we call fresh developments. They’re the reason for my being here now, instead of winging back to London.’

  ‘Oh God, yes, I completely forgot to ask you about that. I’m terribly sorry, Robin, but this worry over Ellen has pushed everything else out of my mind.’

  ‘Which is only natural. In fact, I wouldn’t have mentioned the other thing, except that it might have some bearing on Ellen’s disappearance.’

  ‘What happened, then? Has Sven escaped?’

  ‘No, he’s been released. They’ve dropped the charges.’

  ‘You don’t mean to tell me he’s been able to prove he was in the cinema, after all?’

  ‘No, he’s been supplanted. Someone else has confessed.’

  ‘Are you serious? Is it . . . ?’

  ‘Dr Müller.’

  ‘No! Are you sure, Robin? I can hardly believe it. You mean, he’s actually confessed? Why did he kill her?’

  ‘No idea. I haven’t even seen the letter yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said slowly. ‘You mean he’s dead?’

  ‘Last night, at that place of theirs in the country. Died in his sleep from an overdose. The police had already rung up and asked him to call first thing this morning when he got back to Paris, so I suppose he thought the game was up. Naturally, he knew just the right stuff to knock himself out with, so it was all over before anyone found him.’

  ‘How very obliging of him! And I suppose they found a suicide note and full confession, all neatly typed out and lying on his bedside table? Who else was at their house last night? Adela for one, and Reg Baker too, if my deductions are correct.’

  ‘Also Mademoiselle Pêche, strangely enough,’ Robin said.

  ‘You don’t say?’

  ‘Apparently, she’s the go-between for Adela and Sven’s solicitor. Adela got her down there yesterday for consultations and she stayed the night.’

  ‘How very interesting! And I think I can add another to the list. Although he may not have been in at the death, so to speak.’

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Look at this,’ I said, getting up and fetching the menu card. ‘Take a look at that map and, considering what happened yesterday, you’ll see what I mean.’

  ‘You may be right,’ he agreed, when he had studied it. ‘I’ll do a check.’

  ‘But meanwhile all we know for certain is that Sven’s on the loose again?’

  ‘Yes, awkward of him, isn’t it? Things have been comparatively quiet since they locked him up, and now we have this new complication. Could it be another of his pranks?’

  ‘Somehow, I don’t think so. I agree there are certain features which make one think of him, but I also believe that he’s fundamentally kind. I don’t think he’d behave in a cruel way. Oh, I’d do anything if she’d only come walking in! You don’t think I ought to let Toby know, do you?’

  ‘Absolutely not. He’s at sea, for one thing. Even if we did get a message to him, there’s nothing he could do about it until the boat docks, and we’ll have it all cleared up long before that. If she’s not with Jonathan, listening to records somewhere, as I strongly suspect, the police are bound to catch up with her pretty soon. They’re frightfully efficient.’

  ‘I admire your faith,’ I said, ‘but they might work faster still with a little prodding. I honestly think it’s time you went down there and gave them a shove.’

  ‘I’m on my way,’ he said, tearing a page from his diary and handing it to me. ‘You’d better stick around for the telephone. I’ll be in touch anyway, but you can call me at this number and extension, if you get any news.’

  He had reached the door and was going out, when he hesitated, then stopped and turned round again, a faintly puzzled expression on his face.

  ‘There’s just one thing, Tessa.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, of course I realise you’re far too anxious about Ellen to give much attention to other things, but . . .’

  ‘Yes?’ I said again, endeavouring to conceal my impatience.

  ‘It’s just that you seemed to be knocked all of a heap when I told you Müller had confessed. On the other hand, you didn’t show any surprise at all to learn that he had killed himself.’

  I am inclined to believe that I shall be unable to resist a curtain line, even on my death-bed. I said:

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t. Not in the least. The only surprise is that it’s happened s
o soon.’

  (iv)

  I do not know whether Robin had believed there was the slightest danger of my moving more than two feet away from the telephone, but I could just as well have gone out and danced on the tables of Montmartre, for all the good my vigilance did me. There was no word from Ellen, nor any development at all on that front. Robin, himself, gave me a couple of heart attacks by ringing up to report on which steps were being taken by whom, but when it was boiled down, the news from that quarter also amounted to nothing at all.

  I kept the radio humming away, in case there should be a news flash, but this brought no results either, and I understood why when Robin returned, just as I lowered the volume again after the six o’clock bulletin. He told me that the police were withholding all information from the Press, until it was felt that their co-operation might prove valuable, and in the meantime were keeping their activities secret. This was not a policy which had my unqualified vote.

  ‘That’s all very well,’ I complained, ‘but if it’s ransom they want, I should like every paper to carry the front page news that we’re willing to pay whatever the kidnappers demand.’

  ‘Only we don’t believe for one moment that it is ransom, do we?’

  ‘It has happened before.’

  ‘Oh yes, if we were Rothschilds or something, but this is another kind of blackmail. If she has been kidnapped, it’s because there’s something they want from us, but I don’t believe it’s money.’

  ‘No,’ I admitted, ‘perhaps not, but by playing it this way we have absolutely no means of finding out what they do want.’

  ‘We’ll know,’ he said grimly, ‘just as soon as they’re ready to tell us.’

  He was right, as usual, though I had almost despaired of it when the call came through, nearly four hours later.

  We were facing each other on the twin beds, pretending to concentrate on a game of scrabble, with the telephone on the table between us. When it rang I experienced five seconds of total paralysis, before diving at it with both hands. In one movement, I grabbed the receiver, unhooked the extra earpiece and handed it to Robin. A voice said in French:

  ‘Are you there, Mrs Price?’

  ‘Yes, I’m listening. Is Ellen there?’

  ‘No questions, please. Your cousin is safe. She will be returned to you as soon as certain conditions have been fulfilled, and have been seen to be fulfilled.’

  I glanced up at Robin. There was a score card among the scattered scrabble pieces and he had already made some notes on it.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ the voice asked.

  ‘Oui.’

  ‘You may speak in English. I know well that you can understand some French, but if there is anything not perfectly clear, you are to ask me. Understood?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Listen, then. You are to make all arrangements to leave Paris immediately.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Shut up and listen. Tomorrow morning you will receive through the post a doctor’s certificate, stating that you suffer from acute appendicitis, which makes it necessary for an operation within twenty-four hours.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Do not interrupt. You will then telephone to your doctor in London, so that he may arrange for you to be met on arrival and taken directly to a nursing-home. Your arrival time at Heathrow is four-fifty. You had better write that down.’

  I waited while Robin did so, then said: ‘Yes, go on.’

  ‘You will then speak with your agent and instruct him to contact the Paris studios, to explain that you must cancel your contract with them. Is this fully understood?’

  ‘Oh yes, but . . .’

  ‘I shall continue then. You will send your maid with a letter and five hundred francs to Cook’s Bureau in the Place de la Madeleine, and you will also enclose your cousin’s passport. You will instruct them to hand over one first-class single ticket, which they are holding in your name, for Air France flight leaving Orly at four o’clock. You will also say in your letter that your cousin’s passport and the other ticket, which has been booked in her name, will be collected by a separate messenger. Is this clear?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘At two forty-five a car will call at your flat to take you in the airport. You are feeling ill, so you do not speak to the driver. You will have the doctor’s certificate with you, to make sure there are no delays, but the airport officials will be expecting you. There will be an invalid chair and attendant to take you directly to the aircraft. That is all.’

  ‘But what about Ellen?’

  ‘If you have followed these instructions exactly, your cousin will meet you on the plane with the other passengers. Have you understood?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. So there is a final warning. You are not to speak to anyone, now or later, of some events which have occurred while you were in Paris. If you disobey this order, it will be known at once and you or one of your family will suffer.’

  The voice ceased. There was a click and I found myself listening stupidly to the whine of the dialling tone.

  ‘It’s insane,’ I said, staring wildly at Robin. ‘I’m going crazy. This can’t be happening.’

  He took the receiver from my hand, rested it on the bar for a few seconds and then lifted it again.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I screamed, snatching it out of his hand.

  ‘Reporting to the Sûreté, of course. What else?’

  ‘No, no, you mustn’t. Listen, Robin, have you gone crazy, too? Don’t you realise that if we breathe a word of this, they’ll find out and do something terrible to Ellen? I know they will. I believed every word that voice was saying, didn’t you?’

  ‘The point is that we can’t possibly expect much help from the police, unless we co-operate with them every step of the way.’

  ‘But we don’t really need their help now, do we? Not just at the moment anyway. What I mean is, we’ve achieved something concrete at last. For God’s sake, let’s not throw it away until we have something equally good to put in its place. Well, do at any rate talk it over before you make some move which might destroy everything.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said, replacing the receiver, ‘but I still think my way is the right one. And what is there to talk about?’

  ‘Well, for one thing, did you have any ideas about who that voice belonged to?’

  ‘No. Not a Frenchwoman, obviously. The accent was quite strong. Could have been English.’

  ‘On the other hand, it could have been a Frenchwoman who mixes a lot with foreigners and can imitate different accents?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Are we even safe in assuming it was a woman?’

  ‘We’re not safe in assuming anything. That’s why I think your decision to play a lone hand is such a mistake. We oughtn’t to lose a minute before bringing in the experts. If the call came from outside Paris, there might be a chance they could trace it.’

  ‘Yes, and then the gang would find out the police were on their trail and probably kill Ellen out of revenge. They wouldn’t have much to lose.’

  ‘In other words, you mean to follow their instructions, go through with the whole programme and say nothing to anybody?’

  ‘Unless we can find an alternative which won’t endanger Ellen, yes I do.’

  ‘It won’t help your career much, you know; or mine, either.’

  ‘Oh, Robin, how could we possibly bother about any of that?’

  ‘I suppose not, but it’s still a gamble. This could be a hoax, you know. It could also be bluff. Someone might know that Ellen was away on some perfectly innocent jaunt and was using their knowledge to trick you into leaving the country. I would put that high on the list of probabilities.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because if they really had their claws on her, I would expect them to be a little more accurate in their information. Even you must have noticed one or two undeliberate mistakes. How about your suddenly developing acute appendicitis, you who had it
whipped out when you were five years old? Everyone who knows you well has heard that pathetic tale more than once and I bet Ellen was no exception.’

  ‘It’s true; and I also noticed that they’re not aware that you’ve doubled back to Paris, though I fail to see how it can help us in any way.’

  ‘It may yet do so, but I was thinking more in terms of what Ellen would have been able to tell them.’

  ‘Like their referring to my agent as though she were a man? I know, but it doesn’t prove they haven’t got her in their clutches. She could have been drugged.’

  ‘More than likely. Nevertheless, it would have been only prudent to have got as much information as possible out of her, first.’

  ‘It was as though someone were reading a part, or had learnt it by heart and could only get through to the end, so long as there were no interruptions or unrehearsed questions.’

  ‘I’m thankful they didn’t allow you to break the flow, though, Tessa. It might have ended with their discovering how little you actually do know about Leila Baker’s murder. There’s no telling how they might have reacted, on finding that all their trouble had been for nothing. That is, assuming that this is a genuine kidnap and the two things are connected.’

  I was rather at a loss for a reply to this, but since it had been framed as a statement and not a question I let it go by and asked: ‘Why is that supposed to be an advantage?’

  ‘Because the less they know, the stronger it makes our hand. I was puzzled at first by this touching belief that you knew something which would put them in jeopardy, but I think I’ve hit on the answer now.’

  ‘Oh? What’s that?’

  ‘Jonathan. One has to remember that his kind of fantasy boasting invariably works in both directions. He brags to Ellen about his fairy-tale life in the States, and no doubt he brags just as much about her, to everyone else. Can’t you just hear the stories that are put around about her cousin who is such a celebrated actress, and at the same time such a master mind that she is called in to assist Scotland Yard with all their most baffling cases?’

  ‘I only hope you’re right, Robin, and that’s all it is. Personally, I’ve got this grinding fear that it’s Ellen who possesses the one bit of knowledge which could put a spanner in their works. If so, I just pray she’ll keep her mouth shut.’