by Ivo Fornesa
‘The only really horrible part of the plan was that he had to die without raising any medical suspicions – that is, he had to be killed. After considering all the possibilities, he concluded that the stone jutting out in the passageway was the most believable option: the darkness, the narrow space with irregular steps … it was an ideal setting. Carlos was brave, and he was willing to throw his own head against the stone, but I couldn’t ask him to do something so horrible, so I persuaded him to at least use a local anaesthetic, the kind that disappears from the blood immediately. He wanted me to push him, but I didn’t have the nerves, and neither Xiao Li nor Tum would ever have agreed to play an active role, even if they did help out with the rest of the preparations.
‘That’s where the Japanese man on the recording comes in: that was my younger brother, who came expressly for this purpose. It was hard to get him to help, but my husband managed to convince him. My brother is a sensei, a teacher at a Shorinji Kempo school in Nagoya. Carlos appealed to the chivalrous spirit of our ancestors, explaining he was soon going to die and that by helping him he’d be safeguarding the future of his sister and nieces. With such an argument, he couldn’t refuse. He arrived two days before the party and stayed hidden in an extra room in the attic, which is why no one saw him. When the time came, he crept down to our daughters’ room to wait for Carlos, and when my husband arrived as planned, coming up through the secret passage, he thanked him, embraced him, and then turned to go back down the way he came. My brother is very quick and inordinately strong, so he waited until Carlos was off balance with one foot in the air and gave him a single shove. He fell to his death. My brother thinks he died from the impact, but since he didn’t want to leave anything to chance he broke his neck cleanly and laid out the body in case I had to see him.
‘As for the rest … you know the story. Everyone was partly right, in fact: in a way it really was an accident, as Lafonnier said, but it was also a murder, as you now insist. Though in truth all it did was move up Carlos’s imminent death. It may comfort you to know that those last few weeks he had a tremendous time organising his death, and he loved combining it with the preparations for the party, which as you saw was spectacular.’
Laurent had tremendous difficulty finding words. ‘Madame, this is incredible. I don’t know what to say. It’s madness, but extremely methodical madness. I’m very sorry I doubted your good name. I hope you can forgive me.’
Madame Mayumi waved away his apologies. ‘Monsieur Laurent, I’m not proud of what I did, but I am proud of the love my husband showed us. I’m also not happy about the harm we caused innocent people, like the architect – or like you yourself, who were even considered a suspect.
‘Xiao Li, Tum and I were upset, and that’s why I went to the police to testify for you. And believe me when I say that, had things gotten any worse, I was prepared to confess everything.’ She paused. ‘Laurent, I free you from your promise. You have my permission to tell all this to the police. I don’t care if they lock me up, because my daughters’ inheritance is safe. I ask only that you not implicate anyone but me. Xiao Li acted against her will, and only because Carlos begged her. As for Tum, she was distraught. And my brother I should say is now in Japan. They’re guilty of nothing. Only I am.’
‘You have my word of honour that I’ll take this to my grave, Madame,’ Laurent reassured her. ‘There’s just one thing I don’t get; it has to do with Tum. Her performance as Carlos’s lover was so masterful that I have a hard time believing it was faked. But aside from that, what worries me now is that she’s apparently disappeared: her key ring turned up broken in the guest room where you were walling off the entrance to the passageway. And then …’ Laurent hesitated. ‘Then there’s the fact that you said you drove her to the station, when in fact that day she couldn’t have left, because there was a train strike.’
‘Laurent, think back. Did I at any point tell you I dropped her off at the station in Châteauroux?’
He tried to recall and had to admit he hadn’t heard that from Madame Mayumi’s lips.
‘No, Xiao Li told me. But then I mentioned it to you and you didn’t deny it.’
‘You see? Xiao Li thought that’s what happened because that was the original plan, but when we got there and found out there was a strike I drove her to Paris myself. I think I could even find expressway receipts from that date, if that’s of interest to you. When you mentioned it to me I didn’t think it important enough to waste time contradicting you, since you wanted to find out about Tum, whom you think I killed and walled up in the passageway. Isn’t that right? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Laurent, but she’s alive and well in Burma. I’ll try to have her contact you. That way, with proof of her existence, you can exonerate me.’
Laurent tried to reply as best he could. ‘To be frank, I really would like to know that she’s safe in her country and has been able to locate her brother.’
Mayumi smiled at his failed attempt at chivalry. ‘Monsieur Laurent, you’re quite a case, but that’s part of your charm. Say no more – she’ll call you, you have my word.’
With that she seemed to signal that the conversation was over, but suddenly she remembered to add something. ‘You remarked on how well Tum and Carlos did the kissing scene … I was surprised myself, actually, by their feigned ardour. Not on his account, since he had the appetite of a satyr, but on hers. I even wondered if she wasn’t secretly in love with my husband, which would have been in terribly, unpardonably bad taste, don’t you think? And now, if you have no more questions …’
‘No, Madame, you’ve been very kind, both with your time and your honesty. You have my word that the police will never hear a word of this.’
Laurent accepted everything Madame Mayumi had told him. Not only did it make sense, it truly seemed like a ploy contrived up by Carlos’s convoluted mind. Besides, his self-esteem as a detective was at its peak, because he’d finally been right: Shennan’s death was the result of a crime, an extraordinarily complex crime that he would forever keep silent. He motioned the waiter to ask for the bill, but Madame Mayumi stopped him.
‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘The drinks are on me. After all, I’m the one staying in the hotel. Go and enjoy your life in Saint-Chartier. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon.’ She again gave him her hand and got up to leave, but before she did, she asked, ‘You came by train, I suppose? Are you going back to Berry today, or will you be staying a few days here with Mademoiselle Cathy?’
Laurent smiled.
‘No, she’s not in Paris today, and as for me, I’ll fly back this afternoon. I found a very cheap flight to Châteauroux leaving at five-twenty. Farewell, Madame.’
AND CATHY
He’d never been in the Châteauroux airport before, and he didn’t plan on going back: with all the hurry-up-and-wait, it took almost as long as by train or by car. Once he landed and got off the plane, he took the first free taxi and headed to Saint-Chartier.
When he opened the door to the vicarage, he was surprised to find three enormous suitcases sitting neatly in the entryway, next to a large duffel bag. Then he heard Cathy singing softly to herself in the living room and called her name. She rushed down, threw herself into his arms and began trying to remove his shirt.
Laurent dodged politely and pointed to the suitcases. ‘What’s all this doing here?’
She looked him in the eyes mischievously and said, ‘Isn’t it obvious? I’ve decided to move in with you. I know you’ve been longing for this day, but you’ve got some sort psychological issue or trauma from childhood that keeps you from telling women that you care. You can help me unpack and put everything away later.’
Not much would have shocked him at that point, but this invasion of his space came as a surprise. On the other hand, he didn’t exactly think it was a bad idea. He decided to let her undress him. In fact, he had always wanted to do it on the stairs.
A few hours later, lying comfortably on the queen bed in his room, Laurent thought t
o turn on his mobile, which he had switched off on the plane. Cathy lay with her eyes closed and her head on the large bolster pillow and asked him how the meeting in Paris had gone.
He gave a detailed account of his conversation with Madame Mayumi and the information she’d given him. Then he gave a little shout.
‘Look, what a coincidence. I’ve got a missed call with a voicemail from a foreign number. Let me listen. I’ll turn up the volume.’
First there was a sound like an engine or gears, and then came the clear voice of Tum.
‘Monsieur Laurent, it’s Tum, calling from Burma. Madame Mayumi asked me to call you to let you know I’m all right. Thanks for your concern. My brother is also all right, so I’m very happy. This phone belongs to a neighbour who doesn’t speak English. Tomorrow we’re going to our village. Take care. Goodbye.’
Laurent shut off the mobile and looked at Cathy.
‘See? In the end everything has a reasonable explanation, and Tum is fine. I’m glad, but I feel like a bit of an arse for all the trouble I’ve caused.’
Cathy sat up on the mattress.
‘Right. Shennan’s widow gave you her version, and of course you, as always, swallowed it without a second thought.’
‘What do you mean? I know you hate her, but as far as I can see, everything’s been cleared up. I just want to forget about the whole mess and burn my notes in the barbecue.’
‘Yes, sure, that’s all well and good, but first I’d like to give you my theory. You’ll love it, you’ll see.’ Laurent looked at the ceiling as though praying for forbearance as she began. ‘Everything Mayumi told you is very logical, but I suppose you realise she’s the only one who can back up her story.’
Laurent sat up against the headboard. ‘What are you insinuating, Cathy?’
‘Nothing, just that what she told you is a perfect explanation for everything that was bothering you. There are no loose ends. Too bad you can’t prove any of it: you have no idea where her brother is, nor whether he was even in the château beyond that call we listened to.
‘As for Shennan’s supposed illness, you heard about that from the priest, and he could have heard about it from Shennan directly or even from his wife, because, if you recall, he stressed that he learnt about it outside confession. But what’s even stranger is that all your suspects have turned out to be her puppets, including your Israeli girlfriend – to say nothing of the perfect timing of the fatal blow. And finally, it turns out Tum and Shennan’s passion was merely a performance for our benefit. I’m sorry, but those kisses were real, on both sides.
‘And one more thing: it’s curious how Mayumi gave you such a warm goodbye and enquired how you’d get home – a smart question she asked after she promised she’d have Tum call. Sure enough, predictable as always, you go and tell her what time your flight is. And what do you know? Tum just happens to call while you’re in the air, leaving you an uncompromising voice message. Not only that … hold on.’ She typed something into her mobile, looking for information. ‘You received her supposed call at six in the evening. Unless I’m mistaken, that was one in the morning in Burma, and Tum doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who’d be awake so late. In those countries people usually go to bed at ten.’
‘I don’t see where you’re going with this, Cathy.’ Laurent seemed confused.
‘You’re the one who likes to dream up intrigues and conspiracies. Here’s one: everything she told you is a lie. Shennan wasn’t ill, and she was the one who spread that story. Nor was there any Japanese brother – she could have had anyone call her, or she could have ordered Tum to call her using a recording in Japanese. You heard it, it was practically inaudible. And last, maybe Tum really is dead, and the master strategist Mayumi, predicting you’d be uneasy, convinced her to record something neutral enough not to arouse suspicions if she had to use it. That’s why she so cleverly got you to tell her your flight time, so you couldn’t return her call – a call where, even more damningly, she says you can’t contact her in the future.
‘As for Tum’s trip, the business about her getting a call from the Burmese embassy could also be a set-up, a lie to dupe Tum herself. The only thing we know for certain is that the girl really was in love with Shennan and may indeed be walled up in the château. What do you think of my conclusions? I defy you to refute them,’ she said, sitting up on her knees on the bed in front of him.
Laurent snorted and then reduced her theory to a single sentence. ‘So you are jealous of Carlos’s wife. Come here, I’ll give you something to be jealous of,’ he joked, grabbing her by the waist and drawing her toward him.
She closed her eyes with her arms around him. She couldn’t wait until they had more interesting topics of conversation than Shennan’s death. She regretted saying what she’d said, and prayed Laurent wouldn’t put too much stock in her version of events.
Laurent pulled away from her and held her by the arms, staring at her intensely.
‘Cathy, there’s something very important I want to ask you.’
Heart aflutter, she thought she saw a great passion in his eyes, and she hugged him again even more tightly than before.
‘Of course, my love, whatever you want.’
He gently pushed her back again and took her by the hands. ‘Do you think your friends can locate Tum in Burma?’
AFTERWORD
This novel is set in and around the Château de Saint-Chartier, a medieval fortress located in the historic Berry region of France (Department of Indre), in a town of just over six hundred inhabitants named after the castle or château whose walls protect it. A bit weathered now, those walls still retain an elegant, austere majesty, having borne witness, over their long history, to innumerable events both inside and out.
While the characters are all fictional, they are inspired by actual people. The geography is entirely real, as are some of the establishments and shops that appear in the story. Others, such as the tavern La Cocadrille, are not – though we have it on good authority that a handful of them will soon acquire a physical and fiscal existence.
This book’s sole aspiration is to generate a bit of income and kind words, not to mention – since there’s no harm in asking – to help revive this lovely French town, for we would be remiss if we failed to note that it is a constant source of comfort and joy for the troubled spirit.
We hope you enjoyed this book.
Do you want to know about our other great reads, download free extracts and enter competitions?
If so, visit our website www.allisonandbusby.com.
Sign up to our monthly newsletter (www.allisonandbusby.com/newsletter) for exclusive content and offers, news of our brand new releases, upcoming events with your favourite authors and much more.
And why not click to follow us on Facebook (AllisonandBusbyBooks)
and Twitter (@AllisonandBusby)?
We’d love to hear from you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Spanish businessman and historian, Ivo Fornesa is known for his work as a consultant in China, as well as for his many collaborations with newspapers and publications. His fascinating life has seen him volunteer in the Spanish Foreign Legion; train as a parachutist; live as a Catholic friar in the Holy Land; restore traditional houses in South America, Morocco, China, Thailand and Burma. Fornesa now lives in France, in a chateau in Saint-Chartier.
By Ivo Fornesa
Death in Saint-Chartier
COPYRIGHT
Allison & Busby Limited
11 Wardour Mews
London W1F 8AN
allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2019.
This ebook edition published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2019.
Copyright © 2013 by IVO FORNESA REBÉS
English language translation copyright © 2019 by ALLEN YOUNG
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2439–0