by Ivo Fornesa
‘I suppose you’ve already checked your husband’s office,’ said the agent, jotting down all the information in his notebook.
Just then her mobile rang. Everyone held their breath, except Madame Shennan, who quickly answered. A man’s voice could be heard on the other end. She answered in Japanese, with short, sharp sentences that sounded like orders. She immediately hung up and explained, ‘Pardon me, that was my brother calling from Nagoya. I told him to call me later.’ Then she thought for a minute before answering the agent. ‘Yes, I went to the office, and once I saw Carlos hadn’t gone inside, I decided to call you.’
‘What led you to conclude that your husband hadn’t gone into the office?’
‘His office and the hunting room are the only places where smoking is permitted inside the château. As a result, both rooms usually reek of tobacco, because the first thing Carlos does when he steps inside is light a cigarette. His office didn’t smell of recent smoke, and the ashtray was empty, two details which, had he been there, would have been inconceivable. So I knew my husband hadn’t gone into his office.’
‘I see. That’s all we need,’ concluded the Slav. ‘We’ll spread out through the château to look for Monsieur Shennan. You, Madame, stay on this floor, in case he shows up or calls. And don’t worry, it’s probably a false alarm.’ Then, turning to the other agents, he said, ‘All right. The château has four floors, not counting the basement service floor. Madame Shennan can take a look at the rooms on this floor, and each of us will take one of the others. Any questions before we split up?’ He looked at everyone in turn. ‘Cathy, what’s on your mind? If there’s something you want to say, say it now.’
‘No offence or disrespect, Madame Shennan, but your husband does have a certain reputation,’ said Cathy somewhat reluctantly. ‘Are you sure he’s not gone voluntarily missing … with someone else?’
Madame Shennan studied her with great interest but looked unmoved by this blunt allusion to her husband’s proclivities. Fearing her response, Laurent couldn’t help tensing up when he saw she was about to speak.
‘No offence taken, Mademoiselle. On the contrary, I applaud you for being the only one here with enough nerve to ask the question I’m sure it was on all your colleagues’ minds. That shows me you’re the most professional.’ Then, stroking the cuff of her silk sleeve, she stopped to look at a portrait of her husband hanging in a corner of the room and began to explain. ‘I’m aware of both my husband’s reputation and his behaviour, but I can assure you that with his Irish Catholic scruples it’s inconceivable he’d use our home as a place to indulge his sexual desires with any woman other than me.’
Laurent was impressed by her sangfroid but not terribly convinced by her argument.
And then, after a long pause, Madame Shennan looked each one in the eyes and offered another reason that seemed more plausible.
‘Carlos has extramarital affairs, I know. But he’s never allowed that to jeopardise our family life, nor has he been so vulgar as to let his affairs become anything other than fleeting. For all his flaws and shortcomings, he’s still a good father and a good husband, and—’
‘Madame, you don’t owe us any explanations. This is your home and we’re here to serve you,’ Cathy cut in respectfully. ‘Let’s not waste time and split up.’
The agents left, but Laurent, at Madame Shennan’s request, stayed back for a moment with her. She looked at him sadly.
‘I’m sorry to get you mixed up in this, Monsieur de Rodergues, but among all the guests at the château today you’re perhaps the person who knows Carlos best.’
Laurent placed his hand on her forearm.
‘Not at all. It’s an honour to be thought worthy of your trust. But I should go straight to the floor I’ve been assigned without wasting another second. The sooner we find him and get this over with, the better.’
‘Wait,’ Madame Shennan pleaded, ‘let me have Xiao Li go with you. She knows every nook and cranny of the château, because she was at Carlos’s side during the renovation work, and she’s got a master key to all the doors.’ As she spoke, she dialled a number on her phone, which was answered immediately. Within just a few minutes, Shennan’s assistant was standing before them, though she didn’t look like the same person Laurent had met. Had he not known it was her, a woman impervious to temptation and incapable of letting her guard down, he would have sworn she’d had a few drinks, since her face was flushed and the look in her eyes lacked the usual unfaltering disdain.
Madame Shennan briefly filled her in on the problem and what was required of her. Xiao Li, with an incredulous expression, took out a mobile from her jacket pocket.
‘That’s odd, I just got a message from Shennan about half an hour ago, asking me for the number of a client of his. Let me try to call him on his other phone.’
‘What “other phone”?’ Now Madame Shennan really was surprised. ‘I didn’t know Carlos had two phones.’
The secretary remained silent, and for a few seconds she seemed to be looking for an adequate response that wouldn’t violate the confidentiality she owed her boss. But Madame Mayumi was in no mood for games and, seeing the doubtful look Xiao Li gave Laurent, pressed her to explain.
‘Monsieur de Rodergues is a trusted friend. Say whatever you have to say, and quickly.’
The secretary, used to obeying the chain of command, finally spoke.
‘Madame, you’re well aware of the complex nature of your husband’s business. For the sake of security and discretion, the phone is only for communication between the two of us – no one else. We use it for certain transactions that require involving as few people as possible.’
As she spoke she tapped a number on the miniature keypad and lifted it up so Madame Shennan could hear that it was ringing with no answer. Then Xiao Li became alarmed.
‘This is very strange. He always keeps this phone at his side, and I can’t recall him ever not picking up, no matter how awkward the situation. Come with me, Monsieur. We’ll look together. I’ll open any doors you wish.’
Apparently having recovered her efficiency, the secretary marched out of the library without another a word to Madame Shennan. Laurent could only follow her to the second floor, the one he’d been assigned.
THE SECOND FLOOR
The château’s second floor was divided into two wings connected by a central tower that rose from the grand terrace to the attic, which in turn gave access to an upper terrace. Laurent and Xiao Li began to look through the south wing, which contained two large rooms. The first, an open space with leather recliners and decorated like an art deco cinema, they used as a home theatre. Neither here nor in the matching half-bath was there any sign of Shennan. The other room was a guest bedroom, with a bathroom decorated entirely in cream-coloured marble with blue veins that reminded Laurent of lapis lazuli. Completing the room was a separate small sitting room with a chaise longue, a large plasma-screen television, a sound system, a desk and chair and a small bookcase full of mystery novels. They didn’t find the slightest indication that Shennan had been here, either, so they walked back to the landing dividing the two areas on that level, which Laurent recognised as the place where he’d run into Pia de La Tressondière on his first visit to the château.
The north wing contained only the oversized bedroom for special guests where Laurent had changed clothes after the incident with the dog. It looked even larger than he remembered, and even less welcoming, perhaps because there was no fire in the fireplace, or perhaps because of the ominous situation that brought him here. Whatever the reason, it now lacked the charm he’d felt on that first occasion.
He and Xiao Li inspected it with painstaking thoroughness, even looking under the bed, in the bathroom and inside the study-alcove inside the adjoining tower that offered an imposing view over the park.
Xiao Li had begun throwing open the doors of the large Breton armoires when Laurent noticed something dark, a stain at the foot of the processional lantern that stood by the wa
ll. Without a word, he walked over to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him and the stain wasn’t maybe a shadow cast by the lantern. He knelt down and saw that there was indeed something running along the baseboard – in fact, it seemed to be coming from underneath it. The dark parquet floor didn’t provide the best background for distinguishing colours, but what from far away seemed blackish now looked unmistakably like blood. Almost paralysed by fear, Laurent touched the stain with his finger, and the sticky wet feeling removed all doubt.
He quickly overcame his fright and swung into action. Just behind that wall was the secret passageway that the girls had shown him. Determined not to waste time, he took from his pocket the business card Pia had given him and slid it under the baseboard, pushing it in. The edge of the card slid smoothly and came out stained with blood. Laurent knew then that what he’d find behind the panel would be unpleasant, and his sixth sense warned him like an urgent, pounding alarm, that a long list of troubles was soon to follow.
Nevertheless, he got up and knocked on the panel, remembering what Shennan’s daughters had said about how to open it. Before sliding it back, he called over Xiao Li, who was again on her mobile, looking out of the window in the hopes that her boss might appear among the guests.
Then, unexpectedly, he heard a mobile phone ringing from behind the panel, and he was overcome by an almost magical sense of calm and certainty.
‘Don’t bother, and come over here. I think I’ve found him.’
Xiao Li looked confused. She walked over with her phone still ringing, and when she stood next to Laurent she could hear the sound from the other side of the panel. Terror-stricken, she switched off her phone, and immediately the passageway went silent. That’s when she noticed the blood on the floor and the card stained a bright red in Laurent’s hands.
Seized by terror, Xiao Li went pale, but even so, she didn’t lose her self-control.
‘We have to call Madame Shennan and the security agents,’ she said.
‘Better call the agents first. You do that while I move the panel.’
‘How did you know the panel was movable?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘The girls showed me,’ said Laurent. Suddenly he felt irritated. ‘Do you think that if I had something to do with this I’d come here to be the one to find the crime scene, or whatever’s behind this panel?’
Xiao Li looked at him intently, then immediately called the security team and her boss. Laurent didn’t give a damn whether or not she believed him, or whether or not she called Madame Mayumi. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. She tapped desperately on her phone while he continued to feel the panel until he found the inner latch and released it.
As he slid it back, he heard the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs and into the bedroom behind him. They were too late. Before them lay the lifeless body of Carlos Shennan.
At that point everything happened in a flash. Xiao Li succumbed to a fit of hysteria and started shrieking with high-pitched wails, almost howls. Fearing her screams would alert Madame Shennan, Laurent could only think to put his arms around her to try to calm her down. Meanwhile, the security agents poured into the tower, guns drawn, only to stop frozen and speechless at the scene before them.
Laurent assumed they’d be no stranger to dead bodies, yet they seemed hypnotised by the sight of Shennan, smashed and covered in blood, splayed out head-first, torso slightly bent, matching the angle of the wall in the narrow passageway, with a rivulet of blood dribbling down from step to step toward them.
As he held the diminutive body of the secretary, still heaving and sobbing, Laurent realised in a flash of clarity that the girls and Tum weren’t the only ones who knew about that secret passage. Clearly so did their father, and he suspected a few other people did, too. He looked at his lifeless friend, and with the same clarity wondered how someone could take such a dramatic fall in such a small staircase.
‘We have to call the police, right now,’ the Slavic agent said, and began giving precise orders to the rest. ‘Bertrand, I don’t think anyone at the party has noticed anything, but just in case, close the outer gate and check that all the others are closed too: the one in the garden, the one that goes to the cemetery, and one by the main entrance. Make sure people don’t start panicking inside the park, and if someone wants to get inside, find some excuse or other to stop them. If anyone tries to leave, tell them they can’t, because there’s a surprise in the programme, or whatever believable story pops into your head. As for Madame Shennan, we need to call her and—’
‘No need to call me, I’m right here.’ Her voice was calm. ‘I heard Xiao Li’s screams and came straight away, just after all of you.’
Everyone turned at once, stepping back to clear a path to the passageway. Xiao Li, in a surprising gesture, broke away from Laurent and ran to Madame Mayumi, taking her by the hand and looking her in the eyes with tears and sobs. No words were needed. Madame Shennan looked back at her full of sadness, gently brushed her black hair and moved her aside to step toward Laurent, who was standing between her and the opening to the passageway.
‘Madame, I don’t think you should see your husband like this,’ he implored.
But she took a step forward and serenely replied, ‘Thank you, Laurent, but for some time now I’ve had the darkest premonitions.’
THE GENDARMES
For all their experience and all their efforts, the security agents couldn’t keep the guests from growing nervous and eventually panicking. That idyllic summer party in a lovely park with lively music and endless food and drink had become a scene of chaos as soon as the gates were closed to the public. A few minutes later, the sirens of the ambulance and the police pierced the air, an extraordinarily rare sound in a small rural town in central France like Saint-Chartier, where life was quiet and absolutely nothing ever happened.
The authorities arrived to find a situation bordering on anarchy. Trying to flee what they assumed was some catastrophe, some guests started clambering over the lower walls, while others argued with the security agents or pressed against the gate, making it impossible for the police and the ambulance to get inside the park.
The gendarmes had to get out megaphones to ask people to clear a path for the ambulance. They spread out and closed off vehicular traffic to allow the thousand or so people at the party to leave. The insufficient number of officers made it impossible to search the guests, who, once the gates finally opened, poured out, increasing the risk of accidents or stampedes.
Sergeant Lafonnier, accompanied by the police chief from La Châtre, took around twenty minutes to reach the place where the body of Carlos Shennan had been found. Unfortunately, the media were also on the way to the château, since many guests had begun calling friends and relatives, multiplying the spread of the news. The investigation required utmost discretion and stealth, two things that were now entirely impossible.
As soon as he entered the guest room, Sergeant Lafonnier introduced the chief to Madame Mayumi and asked everyone else to introduce themselves, except Laurent and Mademoiselle Xiao Li, whose identities he corroborated himself. The chief asked to see the body of the victim, and perhaps because he’d been stationed in Marseille, where he’d no doubt been exposed to grimmer scenarios, he didn’t show any surprise at Shennan’s body. Calmly, he asked the sergeant to call the coroner in Châteauroux, ordered an officer to stand guard and asked to be taken to a room where he could speak to everyone who had witnessed the discovery of the body.
Madame Shennan proposed they retire to the parlour next to the library, and they went there to give the first statements.
THE FOLLOWING WEEK
If Laurent de Rodergues ever made up his mind to write his memoirs, no doubt he’d describe the week following the death of Carlos Shennan as one of the most unpleasant and unsettling experiences of his life.
Emotional considerations aside, Shennan’s passing marked the beginning of Laurent’s suffering, for he was subjected to the traumatic expe
rience of being the prime suspect in the investigation into the death. Not only had he found Shennan’s body, he also knew about the secret passage, something that apparently no one else but Shennan’s daughters and their nanny was aware of.
To anyone leading an investigation, Laurent was a natural suspect: he was a foreigner and a family friend with no job or known source of income. He wasn’t detained overnight, but his passport was confiscated, and he was told not very subtly that if he felt the need for a change of airs, he should refrain and instead actively cooperate on solving the case. He had to repeat his statement over and over again, so as not to jeopardise his presumption of innocence. He even began to fear he’d wind up in prison.
Fortunately, the other people questioned had only words of praise for him. Of these, Madame Shennan’s defence carried the most weight, yet oddly enough, it was the statement from the security agent, Cathy Barnaud, that ultimately exonerated him. She went on record saying she’d found Laurent de Rodergues suspicious from the moment he arrived and therefore hadn’t let him out of her sight all evening, making it impossible for him to commit a crime.
The general insistence on his innocence, the lack of fingerprints or witnesses against him, the absence of any motive or justification and the results of the coroner’s reports, which conclusively stated that there was no indication that a third party had been involved, ultimately dampened the police’s initial enthusiasm and freed Laurent from suspicion or blame.
In the end, the theory of an accidental death won out:
For reasons unknown, the deceased had cause to use the secret passage, which lacked interior lighting.
The deceased was known to race up and down stairs and habitually rush about, and to have a certain propensity to danger. On the night in question, in the course of the celebrations taking place at his home, he had ingested a considerable quantity of alcohol, which had likely dulled his reflexes and his vision.