J. Janes - Clandestine

‘Come on, Hermann. It’s time these two old soldiers, one from each side of this present conflict and the last one, met our garde champetre .’

‘I’ll let you ask the questions. That’ll put him on edge.’

Hermann generally needed to have the last word but this wasn’t one of those times. ‘Then I’ll start by asking him why Joliot shy;, the coroner from Laon, is not present.’

Rocheleau, felt Kohler, was a little man with damned big glasses shy; whose black Bakelite rims made him look like an owl that had just been surprised while tearing apart a chicken it should never have touched.

‘Rocheleau …’ began Louis.

‘Sergeant St-Cyr! Ah, the years they have taken their toll, but the mind will be as nimble as ever. I knew when I heard the car that you would have seen the smoke and found me. A deluge like this brings back memories of the battle, n’est-ce pas ? I’ve placed stones here near the fire for yourself and Herr Kohler. A little warmth for the soul. Le the de France and the ersatz ham in welcome.’

Like the rifle with its pig sticker’s lance that was leaning against the ruins, the tin mugs were antiques, felt Kohler: dented, banged back into shape and still imprinted with their French Army logos shy;. The bugger even had a poilu ’s rucksack and wore boots of the same, since the French never seemed to throw out anything. No medals, of course. Just the dark blue of a somewhat untidy cop’s uniform and a bicycle, the rain gear having been hung aside and the arch of stone above looking solid enough.

‘ Ah bon , Inspectors,’ went on Rocheleau, ‘the steaks will soon be ready. One for each of us to bring a little warmth of their own.’

Thumb-thick slices of rutabaga, felt Kohler, were being fried in lard when, having come from a farming community, Rocheleau should at least have had potatoes with a few eggs and rashers of bacon. Reaching for some sprigs he must have gathered, the cook tore off bits to sprinkle over the repast.

‘A little thyme and oregano, to better the flavour, eh, Herr Detective Inspector Kohler? Don’t burn the fingers. Bon appetit. ’

And why was he serving up even such?

The answer came quickly enough. ‘Food is the great leveller, Hermann. It lubricates even those matters that are less than obvious. Rocheleau, our sincere thanks for such a consideration but please be so good as to tell us when you arrived, what you found and why Coroner Joliot, an old and much valued colleague, is still not present?’

There must be no hesitation, not with this former comrade in arms. ‘At 0900 today I received instructions by motorcycle courier from Laon to come here, touch nothing and keep everyone else away but yourselves. I was even brought the rifle with its bayonet and six cartridges.’

While Boemelburg must have sent word that they would be in charge, that motorcycle alone would have meant the Wehrmacht whose local Kommandant would have been duly notified by the Prefet of Laon or vice versa, the former being the only one who could have sanctioned the rifle. But Hermann would already be thinking the investigation was only going deeper and deeper. ‘And did anyone else attempt to intrude?’

With St-Cyr it would have to be said. ‘Father Adrien, our village priest, insisted on blessing them before consigning their souls to heaven.’

‘And was curious, Hermann. Our priests always consider it a duty to find out as much as possible about what has happened in their parishes and what might still be happening. He touched the victims, did he, Corporal?’

Ah merde . ‘Only with his cross and maybe sprinklings of holy water from his little bottle.’

‘In a deluge like this?’

‘Should that matter?’

‘Of course not. Now be so good as to tell us that you covered the bodies with the tarpaulins that courier had instructed you to bring along from Corbeny.’

Bon! St-Cyr hadn’t asked about Father Adrien’s other bottles. ‘I did, yes.’

‘And while you were busy, did the father duck his head into that van or did he step right into it to have a better look?’

Sacre nom de nom! ‘Me, I was not nearby but he wouldn’t have touched anything. When I returned, he said that God would find it hard to forgive the killers. Then he rode off on his bicycle.’

‘Killers?’ asked that Surete.

‘ Oui. Since the bodies were not lying together or even beside the van, Father Adrien concluded rightly, as I also did, that the shots must have come from two assailants.’

‘And where, precisely, did he find the bodies?’

And never mind who had first been busy hauling that canvas, thought Kohler.

‘Both were some distance from the van, Chief Inspector, the one not among the herbs that are nearest to the ruins of the kitchen shy;, but nearer the distant remains of the boundary wall and in what must once have been another herbal, the other in what little remains of the chapter house which is right next to what was once the sanctuary and main altar but has more walls.’

A mouthful, but Louis wasn’t going to let him off.

‘Father Adrien was summoned by yourself, was he?’

‘That is correct. Whenever there is a death, I always summon him.’

‘Now tell us why such a van would even have been here?’

‘Robbery. Hijacked on the road from Reims to Laon. That bank regularly does collections from Reims to Laon, Soissons and Senlis before returning to Paris.’

‘And is that all that Father Adrien told you?’

L’espece de salaud! ‘He said that it had to have been the Resistance from Reims, that they would have known the schedule far better even than the victims.’

And wouldn’t you know it, thought Kohler. Reims instead of Laon which was much closer to Corbeny. The steaks were woody, the lard a trifle off and the tea as thin as usual.

Snapping his fingers, Hermann demanded the reserve cigarette, and carefully cutting it in half, lit both at the fire and passed one to the corporal before sharing the other with this partner of his.

It was Louis who told Rocheleau to keep the fire going and the tea warm. ‘We’ll have a look.’

When well away, it was Hermann who said, ‘That was one of the old Lebel Modele d’ordonnance 1886, eight millimetres.’

And the first to have used the ‘new’ smokeless powder and find itself in the Great War and then during the Blitzkrieg of this one. ‘A museum piece, Hermann. The bolt sticks out like a sore thumb and catches on everything, and the spare rounds that have been patiently fed into the forestock’s tubular magazine insist on taking their time.’

‘That needle of a pig sticker’s lance is a good fifty centimetres long.’

‘He’s hiding something. Me, I still don’t know what it is but assume there’s got to be more than meets the eye.’

‘Another piece of canvas for starters. It was tucked behind the rubble he had leaned that beat-up old blue chariot against. If you’d been observant and using the cameras of the mind that you repeatedly insist on, you’d have seen it.’

‘ Ah bon , mon vieux, you did see it. Me, I’m gratified. The lessons I’ve been trying to teach you are finally coming home. Keep up the good work.’

‘Laon may have lots of reseaux , Louis, but that priest of his was smart enough to point us in the opposite direction.’

‘But was the poor box of his church alleviated?’

Since it was a bank van. ‘Meaning that even priests might be tempted?’

‘You said it, not myself. Me to find the bodies, you to look over the van. It’ll be drier.’

‘Then take this with you.’

‘I’d no idea you were so light-fingered.’