The Witch Who Mysteries Box Set 2

by Katie Penryn

  With that in mind, as Felix and I walked down the steps of the gendarmerie, I said, “I’d like to visit the key and see what we can find out.”

  Felix stopped abruptly. “What now? You’re not up to it, boss.”

  I put my hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m stronger than I look.” I held out my hand. “See, no shakes.”

  “But what about keeping out of this one and leaving it to the police?”

  I told him about the mental image that flickered in and out of my mind all the time. “It will be banished if we find the murderer. Didn’t you notice how free with information Dubois was? I’m sure he was priming me to work away in the background and help him out.”

  “Okay, but can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Felix asked me.

  “No, we should strike while the iron is hot. People may move on tomorrow or forget what they’ve seen or heard. We should go straight down to the key now.”

  Chapter 10

  The key was a scene in a different land when we arrived there that Sunday afternoon. The cobbles had dried off in the sun; the sea had lost its dingy tint of opaque khaki and the white paintwork on many of the boats shone in the brilliant early autumn light.

  “First stop, the Harbor Master,” I said striding out towards the building at the end of the key with the tricolore flying above it.

  “Will his office be open on a Sunday?”

  “Of course, he would register boats coming and going and, if necessary, arrange for a customs check.”

  The notice outside the office gave the hours of opening as 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.

  Felix tapped the board. “So, the office would have been shut during the night. They must work on an honors system in a small harbor like this one.”

  “Only one way to find out,” I said taking the steps up to the front door of the building. Like so many in the area, it dated from the seventeenth century with walls three feet thick and openings lined by perfectly cut chunks of local limestone.

  The man behind the reception counter awoke from his doze as the door clattered to behind us. He got to his feet from his comfortable armchair and stretched his mast thin frame to its full extent.

  “Bonjour ’sieur, ’dame,” he managed when he finished yawning. “Have you come to register your boat?”

  “No. We’re making inquiries about the boats that were tied up last night and early this morning. May we inspect your register?” I said reaching out for the thick bound ledger sitting on the counter.

  Showing surprising energy for someone still half asleep, he dragged it towards him and shut it with a bang.

  “Certainly not,” he said. “That’s government information. I’ve already had the gendarmes prowling through the pages with their dirty fingers. I like to keep my register clean and free from marks.”

  “See,” I said, showing him my hands palms up. “Clean hands. And I’ll be gentle with the pages.”

  “I’m not supposed to let members of the public read the register.”

  I looked back at Felix who winked at me and patted his pocket.

  “Will this help you to turn your back?” I asked, taking a one hundred Euro note out of my pocket and pushing it across the counter towards him.

  He glanced at the door. Satisfied no one was about to enter the office and witness his corruption, he slid the note off the counter and into his pocket. Felix reached around me and turned the ledger to face us. It was a muddle of columns and blurred letters to me.

  Felix ran his finger across the columns. “It gives the dates of arrival and departure of all vessels, port dues charged and paid, home port, whether subject to customs clearance or not, and registration number.”

  “What about the Princesse?” I asked.

  “She did leave port yesterday afternoon at 3 p.m., but there’s no mention of her return during the night.”

  I turned to the clerk. “Why would that be, monsieur? The boat was tied up when we arrived early this morning?”

  “There’s no one on duty at night. Ship’s masters come in during the following morning and sign the register if they arrive during the night. They are honor bound to report first thing in the morning when the office opens at eight. The harbor officer on duty walks around the docks at about ten checking that everyone has reported and that the register is up to date. The Princesse must have returned after eight last night when the office closed. The police had already arrived and cordoned off the Princesse by the time I did my round this morning.”

  “So you don’t know what time the Princesse came back to harbor?”

  The clerk shook his head. “You could try asking the captains of the boats that were tied up on either side of her last night.”

  “Felix, make a list of all the boats that were here overnight.”

  “Why do we want the time the Princesse came back?” he asked me as he took his notepad and pen out of his pocket.

  “Joseph was killed between one and three. It would be helpful to know if he was killed after the Princesse returned to port, or if he was killed at sea.”

  “If Joseph was killed at sea, someone had to bring the boat back. If Ben did leave with the boat yesterday afternoon, it doesn’t look good for him, does it? He would have had to be the murderer and bring the boat back. That could be why he’s missing.”

  Felix wrote down a couple of names.

  I continued, “Unless Ben didn’t go, and Joseph took someone else with him. We should ask about that as well. If they left at three yesterday afternoon, someone may have seen who was on board.”

  “On the other hand if they came back before 1 a.m. Joseph was killed after the Princesse had docked and Ben could be in the clear.”

  “Except he hasn’t come forward and even Désirée doesn’t know where he is.”

  “Until we get some more information, we’re wasting time making wild guesses, boss. Anything else you want me to check?”

  “Page through the last few weeks and see if anything strikes you.”

  The clerk hauled himself out of his armchair again and grabbed hold of the register, almost tearing it out of Felix’s hands.

  “Ca suffit,” he said. “Enough.”

  Felix wouldn’t let go. He turned and winked at me. “More dosh, boss.”

  I pulled another note out of my wallet and waved it in front of the clerk’s face.

  “Now?” I asked.

  He snatched it out of my hand with the speed of a cobra striking its prey. Felix sighed and continued running his finger down the columns, flipping the pages over and pausing to take notes. While I waited I turned the facts over in my mind, but couldn’t make any sense of them. The stumbling block for me was that if Ben was innocent where was he? And why hadn’t Désirée heard from him?

  Felix snapped his notebook shut and turned the register back to the clerk.

  “So what are the details?” I asked him.

  “There were twenty-one boats here overnight. Two of them were private yachts which left this morning before the police arrived and will not be returning.”

  “We’ll keep them in mind but put them right at the bottom of our list for practical purposes.”

  “Five of them are private yachts, two are in port now and three went sailing early this morning but are expected to return.”

  “And the rest are fishing boats?” I guessed.

  “They include the Princesse, of course. Only one of those has gone out to sea today. I suppose because it’s Sunday.”

  I rapped on the counter to arouse the clerk who was already drifting off to sleep again. “Is it usual for the fishing boats to stay in harbor on a Sunday?” I asked him.

  “It depends on the fishing. If the fish are scarce, then they will take Sundays off.”

  “That’s lucky for us,” I said to Felix. “Anything else in that little notebook of yours?”

  “One thing: the pleasure boats come and go but don’t stay for long, no one above a week except for the Eva. She’s been here since the end of April
. She goes out to sea most days.”

  “What would be the attraction?” I asked him.

  The clerk stirred at my question. “I can answer that. They are diving enthusiasts and are researching to write a book on all the wrecks we have around our coast.”

  “How do you know that?” Felix asked.

  “Because they asked me where to get diving permits and explained about their project for the book. It’s going to be illustrated with photos. One of their crew is an expert underwater photographer.”

  “Merci monsieur,” I said and handed him a fifty Euro note.

  “I don’t suppose the Eva is in dock now?” I asked Felix as we left the office and turned towards the first boat tied up at the key.

  “Not according to the register. Anyway, they wouldn’t talk to us.”

  “That’s a pity. With their coming and going every day, they may have noticed something that would help us.”

  Chapter 11

  We walked back up to the end of the key nearest the car park, having decided to work our way down the line in an orderly fashion. We learned nothing from the first three fishing boats whose owners had battened down the hatches and locked the doors to spend the Sunday with their families.

  The owner of the fourth boat along, La Mouette or the Seagull, greeted us with a bonjour. He was mending one of his nets which he’d spread out over the cobbled key.

  “Do you mind answering some questions about last night?” Felix asked him, man to man.

  “What you and the gendarmes, too?” the sailor asked.

  “This is my colleague Madame Munro,” Felix answered pushing me forward to shake hands. “You may have heard of her. She helps out the mayor of the Beaucoup-sur-Mer commune which includes this port.”

  “Enchanté, madame,” he said holding out a grimy work calloused hand. “Are you working for Monsieur Bonhomie at the moment with all these questions?”

  “Not yet,” said Felix quickly, “but I’m sure she will be when he finds out what happened here last night. Talking of which, did you hear or see anything unusual last night? I take it you slept on board?”

  “I did that. I wanted to start on my nets early this morning, but there was such a rumpus after the police arrived with the ambulance and other vehicles parked all over the place I had to clear up my nets and wait until they’d left.”

  “So, last night?” I asked him.

  “I turned in early, but I did wake once or twice as ships came home to port and docked late last night. However, I didn’t get up to look, and I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. You’ll need to ask the captains whose boats are docked fore and aft of the Princesse.”

  “We’ll do that and good luck with the nets,” said Felix as we took our farewell.

  The next fishing boat was deserted, so we moved on to the one tied up aft of the Princesse, the Caroline, registered in Bordeaux. Her captain hailed us as we approached.

  “Bonjour, I saw you this morning. You’re the ones who found Joseph?”

  I nodded. “We’re looking for information about last night. Can you help us?”

  “Come aboard,” he said, “and have a coffee.”

  We hurried up the rickety gangplank glad to find someone at home on board and willing to talk to us.

  Up close he was in his mid-thirties, younger than most of the captains we’d seen on our previous visits to the port. Even at that age his life on the sea had given him early wrinkles round his eyes from which he now flashed a welcome as I stepped off onto the deck.

  “Mpenzi Munro,” I said offering my hand. “And this is my colleague, Felix Munro.”

  He waved us to a bench fixed to the outside of the cabin and ducked below to fetch us the coffee he’d promised us. Felix and I left our seat and walked to the bow to look across to the Princess. Yellow police tape fluttered in the breeze all along the railings demarcating the ship as a crime scene like some perverted take on holiday bunting. My stomach dive-bombed. I had to grab hold of the railing on the Mouette.

  “Gut trouble, boss?” asked Felix stepping in quickly and putting his arms around me. “Don’t worry. We’ll catch the blighter or blighters who did this.”

  “Madame, monsieur,” said a voice behind us.

  We turned round to find the captain carrying a tray with three demitasses. Felix and I helped ourselves and resumed our seat on the wooden bench.

  “Incroyable, non?” he said. “I can hardly believe it. It must have happened while I was tucked up safely in my bunk.”

  “What can you tell us?” I asked him.

  “Not much,” he answered with a wry shrug. “I slept deeply last night. I couldn’t tell the police anything when they questioned us all this morning.”

  “So, you didn’t see or hear anyone on board the Princesse in the night?” Felix asked.

  He shook his head.

  “You don’t know what time she docked?” I asked.

  He sipped his coffee for a moment.

  “Not precisely, but I remember waking up in the early hours when my boat bobbed up and down as the Princesse tied up. I couldn’t tell you what time it was. I glanced out of my porthole. It was pitch black, and the moon hadn’t risen if that is any help to you.”

  Felix handed his coffee cup back. “Do you have any more of that excellent coffee? If so, I have some Scotch.”

  He pulled his trusty silver hip flask out of his pocket.

  The captain’s face lit up and he took my cup from me and went below to fill up.

  “What do you think?” Felix asked me.

  “If we find out what time the moon rose last night, that would give us a rough parameter. And we should pump him about Joseph and Ben’s relationship. Perhaps he knows something about Ben’s absence.”

  “Wouldn’t Dubois have asked him that?”

  “People aren’t always as open with the police as they are with us, Felix. You should know that by now.”

  The captain was back. Felix tipped a capful of Laphroaig into the three little cups and we drank to absent friends, all three of us thinking of Joseph Marin.

  “How about Ben Marin?” I asked him after I’d replaced my cup on the tray.

  “Nice guy. Everyone likes him. Can’t think for the life of me where he could be. The two brothers often go out together at the weekend after Ben finishes with his diving school. Because they’re oyster farmers, they don’t go out fishing like we do.”

  “Did they get on?”

  “Most of the time, but I’ve heard raised voices recently. It’s probably something to do with women or money. It always is, isn’t it?” he asked with another shrug. “Maybe the captain on the boat tied up at the other end of the Princesse can help you more than I have.”

  We thanked him and turned to leave. At the head of the gangplank I realized we’d missed an important question.

  “Did you see whether Ben was on board when the Princesse sailed yesterday afternoon?”

  “Sorry, no. I was out at sea yesterday.”

  We made our way past the Princesse. To do so, we had to walk around the quarantine space the police had carved out of the key in front of her. The captain of the next boat, the Lamartine, was sitting on a chair at the foot of his gangplank gutting a couple of fish. He looked too young to own the new boat behind him.

  “Beautiful boat,” I said. “Is it yours?”

  He smiled. “I wish. No, it’s my grandfather’s. I crew for him and help out with odd jobs from time to time.”

  “Were you on board last night by any chance?” Felix asked him as he stepped forwards to shake hands.

  The sailor held up his fishy hands and shook his head with a smile. “Not a good idea, monsieur.”

  Felix smiled and dropped his hand back. “Well, were you?”

  “Yes, I was. There’s been a lot of thieving around this harbor for a while now, and my grandfather was concerned because his boat is so new and it’s the pride of his heart.”

  It was my turn to introduce myself.


  “I’ve heard something about you,” he said. “Weren’t you involved with the murder of that American blues singer?”

  “That’s me,” I answered. “We help the mayor from time to time.”

  “I guess there’s no harm in talking to you then.”

  He dropped his filleting knife into the bucket of water and rinsed off the fish. “My supper. Caught them yesterday.”

  “Last night,” I prompted. “Did you hear or see the Princesse dock?”

  “I didn’t tell the police this, but yes, I did notice when she returned. I didn’t actually see her, mind you. I was watching TV late into the night. One of those series that won’t let you switch off. You know the kind of thing?”

  We both nodded.

  “I felt our boat rise and fall as the Princesse docked a couple of minutes after the series ended.”

  He put his fish into a dish, picked up the bucket and tipped its contents into the harbor setting off a screeching of seagulls who’d been sitting watching him from a safe distance.

  “Come with me, while I clean up. I can check the time the series finished.”

  We followed him onto his grandfather’s sparkling new boat and waited for him to wash off the fish and put his supper in the galley. He came back with three bottles of beer and gestured for us to sit.

  “I switched off the TV at 1.45 a.m. this morning. So, there you have it. I remember now that I went up on deck to have a look, but it was dark, no moon and they didn’t have their navigation lights on, nor did they switch on the all-round light which is mandatory in port. I made a mental note to talk to Joseph about it this morning but, of course, events overtook me.”

  “Did you see who was on board?”

  “No, it was too dark, but they made more fuss than usual about tying the boat up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wondered if one of them was drunk. They’re both so familiar with the boat they could tie it up blindfold, but last night they faffed about a bit.”

  “Did anyone shout? If so, did you recognize their voices?”

  “No, not a word. Sorry, I can’t be of more help. I liked them both, Ben more than Joseph who could be a little surly at times.”