Murder on Brittany Shores

by Jean-Luc Bannalec

  Dupin was the last to stand up and was wrapping up the baguette to take it with him when his gaze fell on a diver leaving the quay and making a beeline for their little group. The others stood still too and were staring at the man, who looked a little like an alien in his full-body neoprene suit. Just a small area of his face – between the lower lip and eyebrows – was exposed. There was something very funny about the scene, Dupin thought.

  A few moments later the man was standing in front of them, audibly out of breath.

  ‘Somebody told me you’re from the police?’

  He kept breaking off to take deep breaths.

  ‘Correct. Can we help you?’

  Dupin still found the scene funny.

  ‘I spotted a sunken boat on a dive. A Bénéteau. A large Gran Turismo.’

  ‘What? You did what?’

  ‘I was diving. Spider crabs. Between Penfret and Brilimec, not far from Guiautec. The boat must only have sunk recently. It wasn’t there yesterday anyway. I’m sure of that. It’s badly damaged on the bow. You can’t make out the name of the boat.’

  The expression on Dupin’s face – like on everyone else’s –changed abruptly.

  ‘Could you show us the exact place, Monsieur?’ Goulch was straight to the point immediately.

  ‘I marked it with my buoy. The boat is right at a small rock formation. I was out in my dinghy.’

  ‘How far down is it?’

  ‘Four or five metres. You can see it from the boat.’

  The diver started to peel the head part of the neoprene suit down, which looked far from easy. There was a small pause. Dupin looked at Kireg Goulch.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘If it’s as he says, the probability is very high that we’re dealing with the boat the three men were on. They wouldn’t have got far, if they set out from here and sank at Guiautec.’

  This whole investigation, the way it was going, the whole day in itself – it was ridiculous. Strangely topsy-turvy. Dupin was absolutely fed up.

  ‘I want to know what’s what. Goulch, take the boat and go with –’

  Dupin turned to the diver who understood immediately.

  ‘Monsieur Tanguy. Kilian Tanguy.’

  ‘Go out with Monsieur Tanguy and take a careful look at the boat. I want to know straight away and with one hundred per cent certainty whether it’s the boat that the three men were out in. Find out who it’s registered to. Where it comes from. Then we’ll also know who the third dead man is. It’s probably his boat.’

  ‘We’ll set out immediately. Come with me, Monsieur Tanguy.’

  Goulch was already walking towards the quay.

  ‘One more thing: Monsieur Tanguy, you said you went diving in the same place yesterday? What time were you out till?’

  ‘Five maybe, no later than that.’

  ‘And what time were you there today?’

  ‘I think around half three. My boat is on one of the beaches on Penfret. I came from there by dinghy.’

  ‘Do you dive here often?’

  ‘All season long. I’m a member of the diving club.’

  Monsieur Tanguy openly scrutinised Dupin for a moment.

  ‘You’re the Commissaire from Paris.’

  He said it in a very friendly and approving way. Dupin normally objected sharply in these kinds of situations, even though it was utterly pointless. And there were all too many of these situations. He was not the Commissaire from Paris – he was the Commissaire from Concarneau. But to Bretons, you were either a lifelong Breton or ‘totally new here’.

  ‘Yes, that’s me.’

  All the same, Dupin was impressed by the diver’s astuteness. Commissaire Georges Dupin had become a real name in Finistère due to solving the sensational double murder in idyllic Pont-Aven last year. Yet he wouldnever havethought that people knew him out here.

  ‘The people down at the quay told me that the Commissaire from Paris was on the islands. And since you have such a quizzical look on your face right now – the “season” runs from April until the beginning of November. The Atlantic has to be warm, over fourteen degrees, or else you need completely different equipment.’

  ‘That – is very helpful to us, Monsieur Tanguy. Please accept our warmest thanks. We are in the process of clearing up an – accident.’

  ‘The three bodies.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  When Dupin was wrapped up in something, he occasionally forgot the outside world and was surprised when it then reappeared. Of course the whole archipelago already knew, everyone who moved in its circles in some way. More than that, Dupin was certain that the press had long since got wind of it and that the report about the three dead washed up on the beach of Le Loc’h had already made a splash on the homepages of Ouest France and Télégramme. The report would already be on the radio too – radio that, with its many local broadcasters here at the end of the world, still played a considerable part in spreading news. He was actually surprised nobody from the press had turned up yet. It wouldn’t be long now.

  ‘It’s almost impossible to comprehend that Lucas Lefort suffered a shipwreck in these waters. It’s a horrible irony, he could navigate his way round here blindfolded.’

  Dupin was shocked again. But of course – the fact that one of the dead was Lucas Lefort, even that had already got around, the news was too sensational. The only remarkable thing was how swiftly it happened here on the islands. Monsieur Tanguy must have noticed the stunned look on Dupin’s face this time too.

  ‘The people on the quay. They said that Lucas Lefort is one of the dead.’

  This was true.

  ‘Thanks again. As I said, you’ve been a great help to us.’

  ‘The sea is unpredictable.’

  The diver hadn’t said this sentence to Dupin at all, but to himself. Dupin assumed he was thinking of the Atlantic mantra.

  ‘Keep me up to speed at all times, Goulch.’

  ‘Of course, Monsieur le Commissaire.’

  Riwal and Kadeg positioned themselves to the right and left of the Commissaire.

  ‘And now?’ Kadeg actually managed to infuse two such banal words with a sweetly sarcastic tone of triumph.

  ‘And now, what?’

  ‘What will we do now?’

  The stupid thing was – Kadeg’s question was valid. The situation, it seemed, had thoroughly changed. The tasks he had given were largely no longer relevant. It now seemed possible to reconstruct much of what had happened. It had been a boating accident. And when they knew who the boat was registered to, they would in all likelihood know the identity of the third man. Potentially even before that. From a few conversations in the Quatre Vents. First and foremost with Solenn Nuz. Then all that would be left to clarify would be why they were all on this boat, the exact sequence of events, things like that. With Savoir’s final autopsy findings they would be in possession of all the necessary facts to present a satisfactory report to the Prefect. That left the missing angler from Île-Tudy – probably just a second accident.

  There really wasn’t much left for them to do on the island now.

  ‘Kadeg, you go on the Bir too, you can try to investigate the owner of the sunken ship straight away from the boat. As a top priority. And Riwal, you come with me. And…’

  Dupin’s mobile rang and he answered it.

  ‘Muriel Lefort here. I’d like to apologise for my lack of composure just now. I know that it is important for you to find out certain things quickly. And I’d like to help.’

  She had spoken at considerable speed. Without any apparent emotion. Dupin was familiar with these kinds of reactions, they were not uncommon in the initial shock. But emotions ‘on display’ or ‘not on display’ were, he knew, not an indicator of anything. Dupin had taken a few steps to one side and was now standing next to the first of the two oyster ponds.

  ‘I feel ready to carry out the identification of my brother. As quickly as possible.’

  ‘I will arrange for the helicopter to c
ome and collect you immediately.’

  There was a long pause from Muriel.

  ‘My assistant will be coming with me.’

  ‘Of course. I will also ask one of my inspectors to fly with you.’

  ‘Thanks very much.’

  ‘And as soon as you’re back, I would like to speak to you again.’

  ‘I’ll call you.’

  They hung up. Dupin had briefly contemplated telling her about the boat that had been found, but then he left it. He wanted to be absolutely certain.

  He still had the phone to his ear when the horrific ringtone pierced deep into his eardrum again.

  ‘Yes?’

  He had practically roared.

  ‘Yannig Konan drowned too. That’s also clear. Death by drowning.’

  ‘I…’

  ‘We’re opening the chest cavity of the third man now. I’ll be in touch.’

  Savoir had hung up before Dupin could react.

  He saw that Riwal had walked to the mole with Kadeg. He followed them. Kadeg leapt on board the Bir and took up a position in the bow with Goulch’s colleagues. The engines were already running.

  ‘Riwal?’

  ‘Yes, boss?’

  ‘Go with Madame Lefort to the identification. Let Savoir know. He’s already waiting. Meet Madame Lefort behind the sailing-school building.’

  ‘All right, boss.’

  ‘Call me afterwards.’

  Dupin turned around and walked along the rusty old tracks that ran from the quay right to the bar.

  * * *

  Everyone at the Quatre Vents was sitting inside by now, the terrace was completely deserted. Even though the sun was still quite high, it had become ‘a little nippy’ – and for Bretons, Dupin had noted in the last few years, not without amusement, anything under fifteen degrees was ‘a little nippy’, which meant that at their latitude and in this Atlantic position, it was often ‘a little nippy’. At this time of year, the switch from being summery outdoors to being cosy indoors happened quite quickly. Someone had closed the windows, the guests were sitting cosily close together at the small wooden tables. The old room had a high ceiling, a good four metres high and the rough stonewalls were whitewashed.

  The Nuz women had their hands full. Solenn Nuz had greeted Dupin with a slight nod when he came in. Dupin had signalled that he wanted to speak to her. Putting down the bottle of wine that she had just skilfully opened, she hadpointed left, to the very end of the long wooden counter where nobody was standing. That was fine.

  ‘Bonjour, Madame Nuz, Commissaire Georges Dupin from the Commissariat de Police, Concarneau.’

  He hadn’t meant to be so formal. Solenn Nuz smiled anyway, a big, open smile. She was a beautiful woman, he had to agree with Nolwenn there. And it would actually have been hard for him to guess her age.

  ‘I know.’

  Dupin had of course known that she knew.

  ‘We are about to investigate what happened to the three men whose bodies were washed up on Le Loc’h this morning.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You also know who they are then?’

  ‘Lucas Lefort. And probably Yannig Konan. They were here together yesterday evening. They’re often out together. Mostly on Konan’s boat. But in fact only ever the two of them. Do you know who the third person is yet?’

  Solenn Nuz spoke in a very familiar way, as if they already knew each other.

  ‘No, we don’t know yet. I had hoped you might be able to help us. Was it just the two of them, Monsieur Lefort and Monsieur Konan, the whole evening? Was nobody with them?’

  ‘I saw them talking to a few people. But in an evening here almost everyone speaks to everyone else once. At the bar. At the tables. Also, because you always fetch your own orders, there’s always a lot of commotion.’

  Solenn Nuz gave him a meaningful look.

  ‘Lucas Lefort was interested in very young women and there are a huge number of them here during the season. The sailing courses. You understand.’

  ‘I understand. But did Monsieur Lefort not a “steady” girlfriend recently?’

  Solenn Nuz cast the Commissaire an amused look. It was clear that she would not answer this ludicrous question.

  It took Dupin a moment.

  ‘What’s really important is this: was there someone who was recognisably a part of their group? Who came or left with them?’

  ‘No. Definitely not.’

  ‘Can you tell me the time span the two of them stayed at your bar?’

  ‘I think from about seven to nine. Thereabouts. In the evenings things really kick off at around six. And we close at one. But a storm started up last night. Anyone who still wanted to get back made a move quite quickly. So a bit before nine. The two of them left then too. They were amongst the last to get going, if I’m not mistaken. But you should speak to my daughters again. And to other customers. There was a lot to do yesterday evening.’

  ‘Was it as full as today?’

  ‘It was pandemonium.’

  Dupin estimated there were about thirty people there that day. There wasn’t room for many more.

  ‘The annexe isn’t open in the evenings?’

  ‘There’s a terrible draught. And there’s no heating. It’s just something for during the day. For the height of summer. We have plans to change that by doing a bit of renovating,’ she said, an open laugh crossing her face again, ‘but it’s going to be a while. The bureacracy…’

  ‘Did you speak to Monsieur Lefort and Konan yourself, did they say anything to you?’

  Dupin had to make an effort the whole time to speak quite loudly. Solwenn Nuz, it was clear, did this as a matter of habit.

  ‘No. I didn’t speak to either of them. I didn’t speak to anyone for very long yesterday, a few words here and there.’

  ‘Were Konan and Lefort here often?’

  ‘Lefort was here regularly and Konan came maybe every third or fourth weekend. Konan was rarely here on his own, once or twice a year perhaps.’

  ‘Who did the two of them speak to? Maybe they told someone what they had planned.’

  Solenn Nuz reflected for a moment.

  ‘I’m sure I wasn’t aware of everything. I’m constantly in the kitchen. Sometimes for long stretches too.’

  She made a curt gesture with her head towards the passageway behind her.

  ‘Lefort with a young woman. A sailing school student probably. That was right at the beginning and, I think, again at the end. Also with Maela Menez briefly, as far as I could see. Muriel Lefort’s assistant. His sister, the head of the sailing school.’

  ‘I’m aware.’

  Dupin had fished out his notepad, placed it on the counter along with the bic and begun to make notes in his notoriously idiosyncratic style, which made the pages into a kind of chaotic work of art.

  ‘In theory, Maela Menez is Lucas’ assistant too, but Muriel handles the sailing school’s affairs, not her brother. Maela is accompanying Muriel to the pathologist on the mainland as we speak.’

  When Solenn Nuz said ‘mainland’, it sounded like she was speaking about a continent far away. But it had seemed that way to Dupin all day too.

  ‘Does anyone else come to mind?’

  ‘They were sitting in the corner then. The new mayor of Fouesnant, Monsieur Du Marhallac’h, was sitting at the table directly beside theirs. I think they chatted too.’

  ‘Du Marc…?’

  ‘Du Marhallac’h. It’s simple.’

  She of course pronounced the tongue-twister without any trouble.

  ‘During the season, he’s also out here almost every weekend, a keen angler. That’s how it is – during the day they’re at sea and on their boats, in the evenings at my bar. He’s here this evening too. He’s sitting over there. At the same table as yesterday.’

  She pointed openly at an unremarkable, middle-aged man at the other end of the room, who was clearly having a heated conversation with another man. The affable old sailor from midday was now sitting
right next to him, this time without a newspaper, but alone as before.

  ‘Yes, we have a series of regulars here in the Quatre Vents.’

  She said this last sentence with undisguised pride. It was clear she knew her customers. Knew them well.

  ‘Half of our world here is absolutely familiar, the other half is made up of participants on the sailing and diving courses and the tourists who come to go boating, fishing or snorkelling.’

  ‘Do you remember Lefort and Konan speaking to anyone else?’

  ‘Konan also spoke to Kilian Tanguy. A member of the diving club. An amateur archaeologist. And to his wife. He was standing at their table, I don’t know how long for.’

  ‘Monsieur Tanguy was here yesterday evening too?’

  ‘Oh yes, with his wife. Lily. They’re practically always out here in good weather. And we had a fantastic weekend. The loveliest of the season so far. Like today. And then the severe storm came. But even that’s normal. – I think that’s as much as I can remember off the top of my head. But I’ll have another think. And I’ll ask my daughters.’

  ‘Thanks very much, Madame Nuz. This is really important. We will speak to all of these people soon. From that we really might learn something that will help us make progress. Did you know Monsieur Lefort well?’

  ‘We didn’t have much to do with each other. Even though I’ve known him a long time. I’ve been living on the islands for ten years now. And I used to come here a lot, even before that.’

  ‘Incidentally, who is the old man sitting next to Marcha … sitting next to the mayor.’

  Dupin had asked the question out of sheer curiosity.

  ‘That’s Pascal, my father-in-law,’ she responded with great warmth in her voice. ‘He was here yesterday evening too. He’s always here. He lives with us. Has done for some years now. Since my mother-in-law died.’

  There really were quite a few conversations to be had now. Dupin was annoyed not to have brought Riwal or Kadeg with him. Madame Nuz watched him.

  With the noise level, Dupin could only hear it faintly, but his mobile was ringing.

  Savoir again.

  ‘Where are you, Monsieur le Commissaire?’

  The noise of the bar was of course audible, even at the other end of the line.