R Raichev - The Death of Corinne

‘I was very frightened,’ Corinne whispered.

‘I know you were. Ma pauvre petite. You trembled like a little bird.’ Maitre Maginot reached out for her hand. The way Corinne reacted to MM’s touch made me think she was afraid of her. A certain tensing of the shoulders.

‘The Japanese were very good to me,’ Corinne went on. ‘They produced a CD to coincide with the concert.’

‘Ah, the new CD.’ Tilting her head to one side in an oddly bird-like manner, Maitre Maginot regarded Corinne with the kind of pride that could only be described as motherly. ‘Perhaps we could listen to it now, yes?’

At a sign from Lady Grylls, Provost inserted the CD and turned on the player.

J‘ai vu son visage tout au long de ma vie

Comme si je n’avais connu que lui -

It was a song that started as melancholy and became progressively intense and dramatic.

Va decrocher tes lunes

Batir tes cathedrales

Dans les matins sans brume

Mais ne me fais plus mal…

When the song was over, Maitre Maginot asked for the player to be turned off. She said, ‘Corinne, ma chere, would you sing that last bit for us again?’ And Corinne smiled – and did. Although the song wasn’t my cup of tea, I have to admit that her voice is as beautiful and powerful as it is fresh. Any suspicions that Corinne might have mimed to playback at her Japanese concert were dispelled in an instant. That, I believe, was Maitre Maginot’s secret intention – to show us, in case we harboured any doubts.

We were having coffee in the drawing room when Provost came in to say that someone had rung, a Miss Tricia Swindon, an American lady. She wanted to speak to Miss Coreille. Corinne didn’t stir. Maitre Maginot rose to her feet. ‘I’ll speak to her. I have no idea who she is. It might be the other one, the crazy American woman, don’t you think?’ Her eyes flashed angrily at Jonson. ‘However did she manage to get this number?’

As Maitre Maginot left the room, I noticed something very strange. Corinne tilted her head to one side, in a movement that was an exact replica of the one made by la Maginot.

When Maitre Maginot returned, she said, ‘It was most peculiar. The woman rang off the moment she heard my voice. Didn’t say a word, apart from asking if I was Corinne Coreille. Have you had any other such similar calls?’

She cast an inquiring glance at Jonson, who – after a moment’s hesitation – told her about the anonymous calls. ‘But this is terrible!’ Maitre Maginot cried. ‘It must be that crazy American woman. I am afraid we’ll have to inform the police first thing tomorrow morning. We have no option. I am sorry, ma petite.’ She looked towards Corinne who hadn’t stirred but continued sitting passively, blank-faced. ‘For the time being we rely on you to protect us, Mr Jonson. I am sure you will do your best to justify your fee.’

I saw Lady Grylls pushing up her glasses and squinting at Maitre Maginot’s turban, at the place where it had been fastened by the silver bird brooch. The turban folds having got a bit loose, more of the brooch was revealed now. I could see that it was in fact not one but two birds standing back to back, linked by their tails, Siamese-twins fashion.

Two ostriches.

I believe I experienced something of a shock when I realized where I’d seen that very same brooch before. It would be too much of a coincidence if there existed two such brooches.

It was Ruse, Corinne’s mother, who wore the brooch in one of the photographs pasted in Aunt Nellie’s scrapbook.

Put on by Cunning

They discussed the matter later in their bedroom.

‘It’s a fantastic idea. Not impossible though,’ Payne said.

‘We were right,’ Antonia said.

‘Mother and daughter, eh? Well, now that you mention it, their eyes are quite similar, if not identical. Deep-set, light-brown, almond-shaped. That’s one of the first things I noticed about la Maginot and I thought that perhaps she had been a good-looking woman once, before her stroke. Then I convinced myself I’d imagined the resemblance since in every other respect they couldn’t have been more different, but now that you mention the ostrich brooch -’ He broke off. ‘We were right!’

‘Yes. It makes perfect sense when you think about it,’ Antonia said. ‘Le falcon steals half a million from his clients. He is under investigation. He and Ruse think of a way out. They hit on a cunning scheme that combines keeping the money, cheating the law and getting rid of media attention once and for all. A triple whammy. They are gamblers. They are reckless – have ingenious minds. They are ruthless operators. They go to Kenya and contrive to get in touch with the leader of a dangerous local gang. They strike a deal with him – they pay him a handsome sum and in return he provides two dead bodies. Man and woman.’

‘The Dutch couple?’

‘The Dutch couple. The Coreilles supply the gang with their clothes, personal effects and passports to plant on the bodies. They themselves disappear. They already have forged passports in different names – possibly in a different nationality. A ransom note is left at the hotel… The bodies are abandoned in the open – the lions do the rest.’

Payne stroked his jaw with his forefinger. ‘Yes… Madame Coreille then “identifies” the bodies. She of course is acting in cahoots with her son and daughter-in-law. Her cooperation is essential. She has been in on it from the start. She too receives money – she needs it for her pet project – the clinic. The Coreilles, in their new identities, disappear – to a part of the world where they do not stand a chance of being recognized. They settle down and live happily for the next forty years.’ Payne paused. ‘When Francois-Enrique dies, Ruse returns to France. She contacts her famous daughter – manages to meet her. Ruse tells Corinne who she is and what she has done.’

‘Or they might have been in touch already?’

‘It’s possible. Either way, they must have hit it off. One suspects Ruse is completely amoral while Corinne’s moral sense is probably undeveloped. Corinne’s career has been showing signs of flagging and Ruse, enterprising as ever, believes she can help. She is unrecognizable after a stroke. She assumes yet another identity – she becomes “Maitre Maginot”, Corinne’s legal adviser and protector. She moves in with Corinne and takes complete control of her affairs. Her intention is to revive her daughter’s career and make even more money for her – for both of them – and she manages to do it. The Osaka concert is a spectacular success.’

‘However -’

‘However, somebody starts sending death threats to Corinne. Ruse decides on England and Chalfont Park as a retreat. Chalfont is pitched very much in a rural solitude. She has no fear of her girlhood friend Nellie recognizing her, not after all these years – besides, she knows that Nellie’s eyesight has always been bad…’

It had been the old trout who had come to the phone. The Frenchwoman with the Frankenstein face. Corinne’s minder.

Eleanor stared dully before her. She couldn’t say what she had been hoping to achieve with that phone call. She had had very little sleep the night before. It had been freezing cold, which, together with the wailing wind, the drumming of the raindrops on the greenhouse roof and the hooting of owls, had given her a horrible headache. In the morning there had been the dolorous cooing of doves. To her ears it had sounded like a bored or half-hearted keening for the dead… Her head was feeling very funny now. There was again the buzzing sound in her ears… She felt feverish… She hadn’t taken her pills – she couldn’t find them…

Eleanor admitted to herself that she had acted rashly, with little reason. She had no use for the Tricia Swindon ploy, not any more. How could she have forgotten? There would be no point in trying to persuade Corinne Coreille to agree to a meeting. Corinne Coreille would never agree to a meeting.