Death in Saint-Chartier

by Ivo Fornesa

  Laurent felt a stab of anxiety. ‘What do you mean by that, Xiao Li? Is there someone you suspect?’

  The secretary shook her head. ‘My father was a party cadre during the Cultural Revolution, and if anyone knows the meaning of “hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil”, it’s those of us who lived through that period. Best not to go back over those things, Monsieur.’ Suddenly her mobile rang, and she answered it. ‘Yes, Madame, I’m on my way.’ She switched off her phone and looked at Laurent again. ‘Excuse me, Monsieur, but I have to go. Take my advice and don’t waste your time thinking about that tragedy.’

  IN THE WORKSHOP

  OF THE SABOTIER

  Two days after his visit, as he busied himself in his workshop with a new set of clogs, Laurent fondly recalled his wonderful time with the girls. They’d looked genuinely happy to see him, and their shouts of delight when they opened their gifts had been gratifying, despite the inevitable fights when each one said her pair of clogs was the prettiest or that they weren’t painted her favourite colour.

  Tum also seemed delighted by her gift, a key ring he’d carved that showed the outline of a chedi of a temple from her country with her name engraved in Burmese script. Afterward, she and the girls had gone with him to see his workshop, poking into everything and making him promise he’d carve some little horses and send them by post. Then he invited them to his home, where they ate bread with butter and honey from the Green Goddesses. The girls had a lovely time, and he had to admit he did, too.

  That morning he was finishing a pair of clogs he wanted to put on display at the tourism office in La Châtre, which showcased pieces by local artisans to promote their work, and he had to be sure it was perfect, because the person who ran the office was exacting in her selection. He stood up to get a thicker gouge, and as he hunted through his grandfather’s tools he heard a car pull up outside the shop, followed by a tapping on the window. It was the three girls, all dolled up and wrapped in warm layers.

  Laurent went to open the door, and they came in crying.

  ‘What’s the matter? What are three pretty little girls like you doing crying? Come now, such beautiful young ladies should always be happy.’

  A visibly upset Xiao Li came in after them.

  ‘Mum says that now that we’re finished it’s best for us to leave now, but she said we could stay longer. She promised!’ wailed the oldest of the three.

  The middle one grabbed Laurent’s leather apron and hugged him, crying, ‘We don’t want to leave! Let us stay with you! We’ll work here!’

  ‘Please!’ begged the littlest, who was especially bright. ‘We’ll be like Santa’s little elves.’

  ‘Madame and I have completed the inventory and left everything ready for the handover,’ explained Xiao Li. ‘It’s true we initially planned to stay longer, but Madame is of the opinion, as am I, that if everything is ready and there’s nothing more to do, then it’s best we leave. Besides, late yesterday evening the Burmese embassy called asking for Miss Tum – something to do with her family. Understandably she became quite upset. Her parents died long ago, but two of her brothers are with the Karen Liberation Army. Madame gave her permission to go, and she herself drove her this morning to catch the first train to Paris. I’ll be taking the girls to Tokyo myself, as Madame still has some legal matters to sort out with Monsieur Jablard in Paris.’

  ‘I’m very sorry you’re leaving,’ Laurent confessed, saddened.

  ‘The girls love you, and though you may not believe me, I’m fond of you too. Now I just hope they behave: it’s a very long trip, and I’m not used to dealing with children.’ She was clearly terrified at the prospect of the flight.

  The three sisters, meanwhile, had let go of Laurent and were looking about the workshop, playing around with everything they found.

  ‘Girls, you heard Miss Li: you have to be on your best behaviour,’ said Laurent. ‘And you have to promise to write to me, because I promise I’ll write back. But above all, I want your word of honour that whenever you can you’ll come back to Saint-Chartier. Now, give me one more hug.’

  The girls leapt on him and covered him in kisses, and Laurent walked them to the car. At the last moment, he even gave Xiao Li a hug, who first went rigid but then smiled and said, ‘You know? That’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been hugged, and I think I like it. Thank you.’ She didn’t wait for Laurent to respond and got into the passenger seat, cheeks flushed. She seemed like an entirely different woman than the dour secretary he’d first met.

  Laurent stood in the street waving goodbye to the girls, who from the back seat blew him kisses. When the car turned the corner, he couldn’t help shedding a few heartfelt tears.

  CLOGS FOR MADAME MAYUMI

  It was dinner time, and Laurent decided he had worked enough for the day. The longer he practised his new trade, the more he liked it, but he was worried that people only bought clogs as a souvenir or a decoration for a country house, so he spent time thinking up new designs and ideas. In fact, he’d started making carved wooden stirrups, in the Chilean style, specifically the kind they call rugendas, and he hoped to find someone who could make the piece of steel with silver filigree that could hold the strap. France had a remarkable equestrian culture, and it followed very strict rules, so perhaps riding tack and gear were commercial terrain he could explore. As he walked into the vicarage, he went to hang up his coat.

  That’s when he noticed a paper bag at the foot of the coat rack that was partly covered by the hem of his raincoat.

  Laurent clicked his tongue in annoyance, realising he’d forgotten to give Madame Mayumi her gift. He decided he’d better take it to her as soon as possible, in case she left earlier than planned.

  He put his coat back on, grabbed the package and left for the château. As usual, the large gate was shut but not locked, and from far away he saw the Thai gardener in the greenhouse. He reckoned the most sensible thing to do was to enter through the main gate, which led to the terrace. He climbed the steps but found the door locked. Accustomed as he was to always being met there, he didn’t notice until now that there was no doorbell.

  He walked back down the stone steps and turned right toward the stairs that led to the park, but he also found the door there locked. He was about to give up, assuming that Madame Shennan had gone out to see to some business, when he remembered, as he headed toward the street gate, that behind a large cluster of boxwood trees was the service door in the south tower, the same door the Monattis had snuck in through.

  The door was unlocked and he decided to go inside. He liked to believe he enjoyed the Shennans’ trust. He reached the hunting room, where a desk lamp cast a soft light over some magazines and papers in Japanese. He didn’t dare call out, because he recalled that Madame Mayumi was bothered by voices and sounds. Instead, he called her name quietly but got no response.

  He went from one room to the next, until he reached the second floor, where he heard a metallic sound from the guest room. As he got closer he could make out some droning music. He rapped on the door with his knuckles and, getting no response, he turned the handle and entered. Inside the room where they’d found Shennan’s body was Madame Mayumi, in front of the passageway, which stood open. The panel had been taken off and set against the wall. A speaker emitted the droning sound he’d heard, which immediately made him think of something religious. But what really surprised him was Madame Mayumi’s posture.

  She was kneeling on the floor with her back to him, with a container of fresh cement and several bricks next to her. Trowel in hand, she was applying plaster to a wall that she was building to seal the entrance to the passageway. Laurent cleared his throat to get her attention, but she went on intoning a sort of mantra, so he decided to touch her gently on the shoulder, which made her turn and leap up in a defensive pose.

  Laurent raised his hands in a sign of peace.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I tried calling your name, but you were engrossed in the
music. I just wanted to drop off a present I forgot the last time I stopped by. I was afraid you’d leave again before I had the chance to give it to you.’ Laurent held out the bag to her to illustrate his words.

  Flustered, at first Madame Mayumi said nothing. Then after a few seconds she finally reacted, giving him her best smile.

  ‘No, I’m sorry. Forgive me, I was distracted reciting Shinto prayers, and in the constant repetition and the sound of the cymbals I think I fell into a sort of trance.’ She pointed to the wall with her trowel. ‘As you can see, I’m sealing the entrance to the passageway. I don’t want anyone else to have an accident. I’ll feel more at ease knowing it’s been closed.’

  Laurent looked at her work with curiosity. ‘I have to say, you’ve done a very nice job, Madame, but if you need help all you have to do is ask.’

  She laughed politely. ‘The post-war period in Japan lasted longer than Westerners realise, and there was a lack of strong men, and in every family and neighbourhood people had to help each other out. I was a girl, but I liked to help out my cousins and uncles, and that’s how I learnt how to do this, along with many other jobs. But let me see your gift, please. I’m sure if it’s from you I’ll love it.’ She opened the bag and took out the clogs, evaluating them admiringly. ‘This is beautiful workmanship! I love them. It was so nice of you to go to the trouble of finding the family crest. Let me try them on.’ She took off her shoes, and Laurent could see that she was wearing incandescently white tabi socks. The clogs fit perfectly. ‘I’m deeply grateful for everything you’ve done for us, and how warmly you’ve always treated us. You’ll be hard to forget. The girls have already called to tell me they’ve arrived safely in Japan, and they told me they promised you they’d come back here. The château is theirs; who knows what they’ll do with it, but if they ever do decide to return I hope they can count on you.’

  ‘I hope so too. As you know I’ll be here to help them. I’m not sure why, but I think that as adults they’ll be terrifying.’

  ‘They certainly will,’ laughed Madame. ‘Now I apologise, but I must say goodbye because I have to finish packing. Later Khun Suan will drive me to the Châteauroux airport. Take care, Laurent. We’ll write.’ She gave him her hand, and as he took it, she added, with a laugh, ‘And do let me know how things go with your secret agent.’

  Laurent pretended to frown. ‘The gossip really travels, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Listen to me, Laurent. You’re like my late husband in many ways, and that’s why I think that, just like him, you need a woman who understands you, but who’s headstrong and can put her foot down when she needs to.’

  Laurent found the remark funny, especially coming from a woman whose husband had been constantly running around behind her back, but then he remembered that, whatever he did, Shennan had never seemed to undermine the dignity of his wife. No one was ever allowed to make a joke about her, and the very mention of Mayumi was always met by everyone with respect and admiration.

  ‘I’ll try to take your advice,’ Laurent promised, ‘but not everyone is as lucky as your husband and can find a woman as exceptional as you.’

  ‘Thank you, it’s very kind of you to say so.’ Madame Mayumi put her hands together. ‘Life with Carlos wasn’t always easy. At home he was attentive, fun, affectionate with everyone, and an endless source of humour and generosity, but I never forgot his Janus-like nature, or his Dr Jekyll side, if you will. In Japan we learn from a young age to put up with anything, especially for the good of the family. I loved my husband very much, but I love my daughters more, and I’d never, ever allow anyone or anything to jeopardise their innocence, their future, or their well-being. That was and is my greatest duty. All I’ve done is try to fulfil my responsibilities.’ She remained silent, a silence Laurent had learnt he should respect. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why I launched into that speech. You’re very patient with the ravings of an old woman.’

  ‘Please don’t say “old”,’ he protested loudly. ‘Not only are you younger than I am, you’re a woman whose beauty I shall never forget.’

  ‘That’s enough mutual flattery for now. Take care, and please, think fondly of us.’

  Saying this, she knelt down to finish her task. Laurent turned to leave, but he suddenly remembered something.

  ‘Have you heard anything from Tum?’ he asked. ‘Xiao Li said she’d got a call from Burma, something to do with her family.’

  ‘I’m sorry? Tum?’ Laurent’s question had caught her off guard, as though she didn’t know who he was talking about.

  ‘Yes, I think you were kind enough to take her to the train station.’

  She raised her finger to her forehead. ‘Where is my head today? Yes, poor thing, she received a call about her brother. Yesterday she phoned me from Paris. There’s going to be an amnesty in her country, and apparently her relatives got word that one of her brothers is in one of those horrifying Burmese prisons. You can imagine what the people in the military junta are like. Tum left today to see what she could do for him. I’m afraid only money will help, but she’s got a lot of savings, and I’ll help her out if necessary. It was a miracle that they managed to find her. I’m not sure how they reached us. Maybe the nun I mentioned … But don’t worry, she’s fine, and I’ll give her your regards. Have a good evening, Laurent.’

  As he tried to find his way out, he stopped to admire the furniture and objects decorating the château. It would have been a shame to take it all down, and Shennan would have approved of the solution with the Russians, he was sure of it.

  A KEY RING AND AN

  INSURANCE AGENT

  Spring had finally sprung, the time of year when Saint-Chartier is arrayed with unrivalled beauty and colour. Ever since the château park had been redesigned, several neighbours, and even the city government itself, impressed by Solange’s project, had started to take a more active role in caring for the local vegetation. They’d gone so far as to make the floral decorations of the streets and houses a community activity, and the town was earning a reputation for its greenery. Partly that was the initiative of Miss Heather, a retired British teacher and amateur ornithologist who had seen to it that every resident was assigned a public tree they had to take care of. Partly it was due to the placement and maintenance of a bird feeder in the town, which attracted several birds of several species, whose singing and flitting about notably animated the little plazas and the old public wash house.

  Laurent’s garden, too, had taken on a more promising aspect, and a relative order had at last taken root among his hens, giving him eggs on a stable, regular basis. What’s more, the days were growing brighter, which made it possible to eat outdoors on the patio of the vicarage. All he needed now was for Cathy to come over more often. He’d by now accepted her for what she’d become: indispensable and inescapable. Barring some unforeseen incident, she’d arrive that very night from Clermont-Ferrand, and Laurent hadn’t forgotten that she’d been blunt in expressing an acute craving for empanadas, a delicacy that Le Juanch had been inspired to start making. His were a peculiar reinterpretation of the Argentine variety, since they had the chimichurri in the filling.

  Laurent headed to the tavern to order them, fearful that if he didn’t have them that night, Cathy would deny him the bedroom attentions he so ardently desired. Along the way, he passed by the château and ran into Yammei, who was trying to open the gate while laden with several bags. Chivalrous as always, he stopped to help and offered to hold her things while she looked for her keys. When she found them and took them out of her handbag, Laurent was taken aback: her key ring was almost identical to the one he’d carved for Tum.

  ‘Yammei, could I take a look at your key ring?’ She gave me a surprised look but still handed it to him, allowing him to closely inspect it. There was no doubt: it was Tum’s, but the upper part of the chedi had been broken off.

  ‘I’m sorry, but where did you get that key ring?’

  ‘I found it inside the château, under a sofa. Why? I
s it yours?’

  ‘No, but I made it for Miss Tum, it was gift for her. Too bad she lost it; I got the impression she liked it.’

  Yammei understood Laurent’s disappointment. ‘Don’t take it so hard, Monsieur. The last few days we were all running around like mad, and Madame was giving orders right and left. You know how Tum always tries to follow orders and satisfy Madame’s wishes. Probably she dropped it while running errands. If you like, I can return it to her.’

  ‘No, keep it,’ said Laurent. ‘But tell me, have you heard from her? Was she able to find her brother?’

  ‘Madame said Tum has to stay in Burma, since the business with her brother is more complicated than she thought. She’s very sad, because Tum is such a wonderful girl. She’s having trouble finding a replacement who’s even half as good. Of course, when she returns, she’ll always have a place in the Shennans’ house.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. She’s an excellent person, and I hope she can get all her family troubles sorted out as quickly as possible. Say hello from me if you’re ever in contact with her,’ said Laurent with sincerity.

  ‘Of course, Monsieur Laurent. So long.’

  Laurent continued on his way to La Cocadrille, and when he arrived he was surprised by the large number of people inside. More surprising still was the smell of Argentine empanadas wafting pleasantly through the air. Squeezing in at the bar, he accidentally pushed someone.

  ‘Laurent! Fancy meeting you here!’ It was Blareau, his insurance agent, a friendly chatterbox with an office in La Châtre. Before he could react, Blareau was already hugging him, and his breath testified to a substantial number of libations. ‘Everyone keeps telling me about this place, so I decided to come and try it out for myself. What can I get you?’

  ‘A beer, please, but just a glass. How’s the insurance business? Hope you’re not going to try to get me to sign up for another policy.’