by Katie Penryn
“It’s a puzzle. We’ll have to wait for the results of the autopsy. Meanwhile, Felix and I must visit Désirée Marin and give her the dreadful news about her husband.”
“Eat up first, boss,” said Felix putting a plate of scrambled eggs on toast in front of me. “We have to keep up our strength. Our attention should be on Désirée when we get there and not on ourselves.”
“Of course,” I answered sharply.
Sometimes Felix took it upon himself to monitor my behavior, but perhaps he didn’t want me fainting about the place.
Sam came downstairs as we were washing our plates off in the sink and we told him the news.
“I heard the commotion,” he said, “but I pulled my pillow over my head and fell asleep again.”
“We leave Jimbo and Gwinny in your care,” said Felix steering me out of the kitchen. “We have to visit Madame Marin.”
“Can’t I come?” asked Jimbo. “She’s my teacher and I feel sorry for her and for my friend Marcel.”
“Not today, Jimbo. It wouldn’t be appropriate. You can tell her how you feel later when she’s over the first shock.”
Chapter 21
My car found its way to Désirée Marin’s house. I’d been there so many times over the past few days helping out and keeping up her spirits while the town of Beaucoup-sur-Mer treated her as if her husband Ben had murdered his brother Joseph. I hoped they would learn not to jump to conclusions in the future. Officer Legrand tailed us in his police car and parked to the side of the gate when we arrived to wait until called to take the DNA sample from Désirée’s son.
Dubois had said he wouldn’t release the name of the body found on the beach until the results of the DNA test confirmed Ben’s identity and Désirée had been informed. I worried that some busybody had pipped the police to their job of notifying the next of kin. I needn’t have been so anxious. When Désirée opened the door her face portrayed her now customary look of anxiety and tension but not of grief.
Felix and I followed her into her kitchen.
“Where’s Marcel?” I asked her not wanting to break the news in front of her son.
“He’s next door with his friends. He hasn’t done something he shouldn’t have done, has he?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that we need to speak to you alone.”
“Please sit down,” said Felix pulling out a chair for her and guiding her to it.
Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes opened wide.
“It’s Ben, isn’t it? You have some news?”
“It’s bad news, I’m afraid, Désirée,” I said laying my hand on her arm in comfort.
I waited a second for her to catch up with me.
“You’ve found him. He’s hurt?”
“Désirée, I’m sorry to have to tell you, but a body’s been found. Although it has to be confirmed, we believe it to be Ben.”
“He’s dead? Oh, no. How? Not knifed like Joseph?”
Felix moved across the kitchen to make coffee.
“No. It’s too soon to be certain of what happened, but it looks as if he drowned. His body washed up on the beach below the Esplanade.”
“He couldn’t have drowned. He’s an excellent swimmer. You know that, Penzi, don’t you?”
I nodded.
She clutched my arm in an effort to convince me. “It could be an accident. That can happen to the best of swimmers.”
She struggled to get out of her chair. “I want to see him now. Please take me to see him.”
I held her down gently.
“Not yet. Inspector Dubois will phone here when it is time for you to make a formal identification.”
“Why can’t I go now?”
“Désirée, the pathologist is conducting an autopsy.”
She clapped her hands over her ears. “That’s too horrible.”
Felix put a cup of coffee in front of her and tipped a capful of Laphroaig into it.
“Drink, Désirée. You’re in shock and you need to be calm to tell your son what has happened.”
Her cup trembled, so I held it up to her lips for her and she took a couple of sips before pushing my hand away.
“Marcel adored his father. It’s going to break his heart especially after all the bullying at school and the other kids calling his father a killer.”
With that her eyes welled up. She sat there unmoving with the tears pouring down her face. I snatched up a tea towel and dabbed her cheeks. She took it from me and wrung it, turning it round and round in her hands.
“How am I going to cope?” she asked. “The last few days have been bad enough, but now I know why Ben wasn’t here to answer all the accusations, it’s going to be worse. His parents haven’t spoken to me since the news of Joseph’s murder.”
I crouched down and put my arm around her shoulders. Her tears had grown to full-blown sobs now. I had to calm her down so she could tell her son about his father.
Felix made patting signs at me behind her back. I had to let her cry it out. When she stopped crying, I took her upstairs to the bathroom and helped her wash her face and brush her hair.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced.
“So, this is what it feels like to be a widow. I didn’t give Bella enough love when we heard about Joseph.”
“Would you like Felix to fetch Marcel?” I asked as I led the way downstairs.
“No, I’d rather wait until I’ve seen Ben. Perhaps you would go next door and ask my neighbors to keep Marcel for the day.”
I stepped off the bottom stair and turned to face her.
“Désirée, you need to tell him now. He might hear the news from someone else, or on television.”
“You’re right, Penzi. Yes, please ask Felix to fetch him.”
We returned to the kitchen, and I dispatched Felix on his mission.
We sat quietly apart from the odd sniff from Désirée, each lost in her own thoughts. Anger and a thirst for justice filled mine. I was sure the autopsy results would point to murder. I hated that murderers rob their victims of their lives, but even worse was what their crimes did to the close relatives of those they killed.
Oh no, my duty as a white witch to fight evil and support the wronged was pulsing through my veins. It was a call I had to obey to stay true to myself. I sighed as I foresaw the inevitable clash with Felix and his duty as my bodyguard to keep me safe from mortal danger. He would cite a second murder as making even the investigation into Joseph’s death too dangerous for me. However, I wouldn’t say anything until after we’d received the results of the autopsy. Maybe, just maybe, Ben’s death would prove to have been an accident, but the knowledge in my heart of hearts told me I was kidding myself.
*
Felix’s arrival with Marcel broke Désirée and me out of our reveries. Marcel’s reaction to his mother’s news only reinforced my sense of duty as a white witch. Sad as it had been to tell Désirée of her husband’s death, it was a million times worse to witness the nine-year-old’s initial puzzlement followed by his slow comprehension of the fact that his father would never again walk through the door and play fight with him. Ben had been an ever-present nurturing father for all of Marcel’s nine years, all of his young life.
Marcel sat staring at his mother, his normal exuberance quashed by the enormity of the vacuum that lay before him. All of a sudden he sat up, squared his shoulders and looked up at me.
“Madame Munro, you must find this man who killed my father.”
“Whoa, young man,” said Felix giving him a pat on his back. “We don’t know yet if your father was killed, or if his death was an accident. If he was murdered, it’s a job for the police, not for Madame Munro.”
Marcel twisted round in his chair and fixed Felix with a solemn eye.
“Madame Munro hunts for killers. Jimbo told me all about his clever big sister who helps the police when they get stuck.”
I had to smile at Marcel’s pronunciation of Jimbo’s name, Zheembo, but I stopped sm
iling when the expression on Felix’s face rebuked me.
I raised my eyebrows at Felix in reply and reached across the table for Marcel’s hand. He stretched it out to reach mine and we shook.
“That’s a promise from me to you,” I said, “that if Inspector Dubois tells me your father was killed deliberately, I will do everything in my power to track down his murderer and bring him to justice. How does that sound?”
He snatched his hand out of mine, jumped out of his chair and ran round the table to hug me.
“Merci mille fois, Madame Munro,” he breathed into my ear. “You are as wonderful as your brother says you are.”
I disengaged his hands squeezing them gently.
“Let’s wait until the Inspector speaks to us later today. For now, your mother needs to rest. Do you want to stay with her?”
He glanced at Désirée who dipped her chin at him and looked back at me.
“My mother says it’s all right for me to go back and be with my friend next door. She can rest and my friend will cheer me up.”
“Just one thing, Marcel. I need something from you to help with this case.”
“Anything, Madame Munro,” he said looking so wan I had a hard time preventing myself from tearing up.
“There’s a policeman waiting outside. He needs to take a swab from you to help with the investigation.”
I didn’t want to explain why because that would be too gruesome for such a young child.
I went on, “It won’t hurt. It’s just like an ear bud. Is it all right if Felix calls him in now?”
Marcel looked at his mother for guidance and she said, “You should agree, chéri.”
“Very well,” Marcel said.
Felix left to fetch the policeman.
Felix returned with Legrand who pulled out the DNA kit the doctor had given him and gloved up. The swab only took a couple of seconds and he tucked it back into the sterile container, sealed the envelope, signed across the flap and left to take it for analysis.
“That was a brave lad,” I said, giving Marcel a hug. “I’ll take you next door now.”
Marcel ran round to give his mother a kiss.
Felix followed me to the door.
“You can’t go wandering about on your own, boss. I should come with you.”
“Felix, Désirée needs someone with her. Stay until I get back. I have something I must do next door. Trust me. You can watch me out of the window.”
Marcel took my hand, showing me how much he needed comforting. When we opened the gate of the house next door a curly haired golden dog bounced towards us in greeting.
“That’s Coco,” Marcel said. “He’s a cockapoo. My friend is so lucky to have a dog.”
“Does your mother know you’d like to have a dog?”
“Yes, but she says it’s not fair to leave a dog alone all day.”
When we reached the front door, I rang the bell. Désirée’s neighbor came to the door. I pushed Marcel gently past her and pulled her aside. I quickly explained the situation. She was understanding and said she would look in later on Désirée after her husband had returned from work, make sure she had something to eat for supper.
As the front door closed behind me I turned round to leave only to find the friendly dog had been sitting right on my heels.
He cocked his head to the side and held his right paw up for me to shake.
“Bonjour, Coco,” I said.
He lurched to his feet and took a couple of paces back but never taking his eyes away from my face. “What is wrong with Marcel?” he asked me. “He looks so sad.”
“His father’s body was found today. He’s sad because his father’s dead.”
“Now I’m sad, too. Marcel is a nice boy. I like him a lot. He’s best friends with my master.”
“How about you take care of him today? Give him lots of cuddles and let him pet you? He doesn’t have a dog of his own.”
Coco wagged his tail so hard I thought it was going to fall off.
“Marcel is lucky to have a witch as a friend. Open the door, madame,” he said snuffling up against the handle.
I rang the bell again and explained to Désirée’s neighbor that a little dog therapy would go a long way. Coco pushed himself past her legs. His tail disappeared into the kitchen to a burst of nine-year-old laughter.
Felix stood at the window of Désirée’s house watching me walk back along the pavement. He looked so earnest I cocked a snook at him. His shoulders relaxed and a wide grin spread across his face. When he opened the front door to me he said, “It’s good to see this business isn’t getting you down, boss.”
“Well, it is, but we have to keep our spirits up if we’re to be of any use to Désirée and Marcel. Is she still resting?”
Felix nodded and led the way into the kitchen where he poured me a cup of coffee boosting the caffeine with a touch of Laphroaig.
I sat down cradling the cup in my hands. “We have a long afternoon ahead of us, waiting for Dubois to call with the DNA results.”
Felix broke into my thoughts. “It occurs to me that now is a good time to do a little surreptitious searching about for anything related to either of the killings.”
“You think Ben was murdered?”
“I pointed the hose out to you, remember. I’ll bet it’s murder and, before you say anything, I know what you’re like. You’re going to investigate. I heard the promise you made to Marcel. Whatever I say about possible danger will count for nothing. Am I right?” Felix asked quirking his right eyebrow at me.
“You know me so well.”
“So, shall we search the ground floor?”
“It’s unethical to do so without asking permission, Felix, but I agree it’s tempting, so put your gloves on. Take care not to disturb anything.”
I gloved up and took the kitchen while Felix began on the sitting room. He moved on to the dining room and checked out the utility room and garage. We met up in the kitchen. Neither of us had found anything of note. That’s when Felix pointed to the shed at the bottom of the garden. We walked down to it but found the door was still locked. I could have used magic to open the lock, but that was going a step too far. We’d have to wait for Désirée.
Chapter 22
We didn’t get a chance to ask her about the shed because Dubois’s call came through at five o’clock with the information that Marcel’s DNA confirmed the body found on the beach as that of his father, Ben Marin. Dr Ambrose was ready for Désirée to go in and view the photographs.
“Why does Désirée need to call in if the paternity test was positive?” I asked Dubois.
“Dr Ambrose advises me that even the best test is 99.99% and not 100% sure. She added that Madame Marin would want to see for herself for her own peace of mind.”
I hurried upstairs to fetch Désirée. She had cried herself to sleep, poor woman. Her hair lay lank on her pillow which was damp to the touch as I stroked her cheek to wake her up. She stirred, looked at me blankly before sitting up with a start.
“Oh, it’s all real then?” she asked. “I thought I was having a nightmare.”
“The results have come back with an almost one hundred per cent chance of its being Ben.”
“There goes my last hope,” she said flopping back on the pillows.
“Inspector Dubois would like you down at the mortuary as soon as possible to look at the photographs.”
“Very well,” she said struggling to swing her legs onto the floor.
I gave her a hand and took her through to the bathroom to freshen up.
We collected Felix from downstairs and I drove us off to the hospital to visit the mortuary.
*
The pathologist was waiting for us and showed us into a pleasant office out of sight of the business end of the mortuary. As soon as Désirée was seated Dr Ambrose handed her the first photograph: the dolphin tattoo. Désirée froze, unable to speak, but she nodded her head. The second photograph showed the tattoo of the second dolphin on Ben�
�s calf with the name Désirée written below it. Again Désirée nodded her head. Dubois pushed her for a verbal response and I feared Désirée was going to faint, but she managed to hold herself together and stated that they looked exactly like the tattoos her husband had.
Dr Ambrose put the photographs away. Désirée turned to Dubois and asked if she might see her husband’s body.
“I don’t recommend it,” Dr Ambrose replied. “Ben was in the sea for several days. It would give you a shock to see him the way he is. Much better for you to remember him the way he was in life.”
Désirée burst into tears. I put my arms around her and let her sob herself out on my chest. When she quietened down Dubois asked Felix to take her to the hospital café for a drink.
“I need to speak to Madame Munro alone for a few minutes,” he said.
Felix was about to argue that he should stay with me but I frowned and indicated Dubois with a flick of my head.
Désirée wasn’t in any state to argue. She allowed herself to be led away by Felix as I turned to Dubois and asked him what the problem was.
“Come with us,” he said. “Dr Ambrose wants you to see this on the body itself.”
“Must I? Isn’t it something you can show me in a photograph? I haven’t been trained for this.”
I did not want to view Ben’s body in reality, not now. Once on the beach had been enough for me.
“It’s important,” Dubois said, “or I wouldn’t ask you. I’ll be standing by.”
What could I do but shrug and follow him and the pathologist into the mortuary? There Dr Ambrose explained the results of the autopsy to me. Ben’s lungs had been large and heavy and filled with saltwater showing that he’d inhaled the water and that he had presumably drowned in the sea.
“That’s what we guessed from the scene on the beach,” I said.
“Yes,” said Dubois, “but we wanted to show you that he was almost certainly murdered. Forensics are likely to prove that his breathing hose was cut, but Dr Ambrose wants you to look at his ankle, the one with the missing foot.”