Martin Walker: The Devil's Cave

‘Sorry?’ Bruno said, the pent-up anger from Francette’s story finally exploding. ‘You may have signed the girl’s death warrant. She’s what stands between the Count and inheriting a fortune, and until you blundered in he didn’t even know she existed.’

‘How was I to know?’

‘What flight was she on?’ Bruno demanded.

‘I don’t know, but our guy got there late yesterday so it must have been the evening flight. She’ll already have landed in Paris.’

‘ Putain de merde ,’ Bruno roared, closing the phone, and barging into the interview room where J-J sat opposite Madame de la Gorce.

‘Emergency,’ he said, and forced himself to remember his manners and the need for discretion. ‘Excuse me, Madame, but we need the Commissaire outside.’

Once they were outside the room Bruno explained then slammed his hand against his forehead and called himself an idiot when he realized he’d never asked Gilles for the girl’s name. He called Gilles back, apologizing for his temper, and wrote the details down on his notepad.

J-J was already on the line to the security office at Charles de Gaulle airport and repeated the girl’s name as Bruno showed his notepad: Marie-Francoise Bourbon Merrilees. It must be her father’s surname. Gilles had given Bruno the father’s number, the girl’s mobile phone and the fact that she had both a French and an American passport. The father might have the passport numbers. Who might speak English well enough to call him?

He tried Gilles but the line was engaged. On an impulse, he rang Pamela in Scotland, briefly explained and asked her to call the father to ask him for the numbers and any other details. And if the father spoke to his daughter, he should tell her to go direct to any police station and stay there while insisting they contacted him or J-J.

‘She flew in on Air France and connected with a flight to Bordeaux that should have just landed,’ J-J said. He was already calling the security office at Bordeaux’s Merignac airport.

‘Check if they’ve had any incoming helicopters at Merignac,’ Bruno said, reading out the tail number of the Count’s helicopter from his notebook. His mind raced as he tried to think of any other useful information he could provide J-J. He almost hopped up and down with frustration as J-J waited, then said who he was, gave his security code and explained what he wanted.

‘They’re trying to seal off the baggage claim area but it’s an internal flight from Paris so there’s no customs check,’ J-J said as he waited for more information. ‘I can hear them calling her on the public address system.’

Bruno’s phone vibrated again. It must be Pamela, he thought, snatching it from his pouch, but it was Fabiola.

‘I’ve just had my access authorization to the Red Chateau faxed from the Procureur ’s office,’ she said. ‘You want to join me?’

But of course, Bruno suddenly realized, with the old woman and Foucher at the Gendarmerie, Eugenie disappeared and the Count seeking his long-lost cousin in Bordeaux, the chateau would be wide open.

‘I’d love to,’ he replied. ‘Pick me up at the Gendarmerie whenever you want.’

J-J closed his phone. ‘They missed her. Apparently she had no checked baggage and there’s no helicopter flight plan into Merignac. They’ll check other airports nearby and call me back. Meanwhile I’ll have to call the Chief of Police at Bordeaux and I’d better brief the Procureur . Who’s planning to pick you up?’

‘Dr Stern, Fabiola. We’re going to see the Red Countess at the chateau. But you also need to know about what looks like financial fraud, using the Countess’s signature to pay for bank loans when she’s supposed to be comatose.’

‘It’s the girl who’s the priority now. Let’s get going, I can phone from the car. I’ll go with Sergeant Jules and you wait for the doctor.’

‘You’d better warn Inspector Jofflin, who’s running the search at the auberge, just in case the chopper lands there,’ Bruno said.

Fabiola’s old car was wheezing as it tackled the long hill leading to the ridge that overlooked the Red Chateau. Isabelle had been briefed, which meant the Interior Ministry could now deal with the Defence Ministry. Bruno kept his eyes on the western horizon in case a helicopter came into view.

‘I’ve worked out the identity of your private patient, or patients,’ he said.

‘I thought you might,’ Fabiola replied. ‘I’m just surprised it took you so long. And even more surprised that you thought I’d be practising medicine for money.’

‘Beatrice didn’t pay you for doing check-ups on the girls at the hotel?’

‘No, she made a donation to the abused women’s shelter in Bergerac, a very generous donation. I suppose that’s going to end now.’

Bruno shrugged. He imagined that some other defence company would soon be dispensing corporate hospitality somewhere else. They might even use Beatrice, so long as she wasn’t linked directly to the death of Athenais.

Fabiola parked beside the Gendarmerie van. The main door to the chateau was already open and Sergeant Jules was standing on the steps waiting for them, a nervous maid wringing her hands at his side.

‘ Bonjour , Mademoiselle, who else is here?’ Bruno asked her.

‘ Bonjour , Monsieur, the groom is in the stables and the other maid is with the Countess,’ she said. ‘Everyone else has gone.’

‘When did the Count leave?’

‘Just over an hour ago. He’d been waiting for Madame’s return and asked me to tell her he couldn’t wait any longer.’

‘Did he leave a message for her?’

‘Not with me, Monsieur.’

Bruno showed Fabiola the way to the hospital room where J-J was skimming through a file on the nurse’s table.

‘This non-qualified nurse kept decent records, I’ll give her that,’ he said, looking up as they entered. ‘What’s a proper dose for temazepam?’

‘It depends. I’d use no more than fifteen milligrams for insomnia,’ said Fabiola. ‘How many is she on?’

‘It says she’s on thirty in these notes.’

‘That’s a lot. I’ll need to see what else she’s on.’ Fabiola cast an expert eye over the array of machines against the wall as she took the Countess’s pulse. ‘It has too many side effects for my liking and it can become addictive quite quickly. I’ve seen it used in suicides. Can you see if there are any prescription bottles around? They should have the prescribing doctor’s name on the label.’

She pulled back the sheets and took out a stethoscope to listen to the Countess’s heart and then began to palpate her limbs. Bruno heard Fabiola muttering to herself about muscular atrophy, when J-J’s phone rang.

‘Where? Which airport?’ J-J said. ‘We’re near Les Eyzies. What’s the flying time to here? ’

When he rang off he looked at Bruno. ‘It seems there’s a small private airport called Souge, a few kilometres west of the main Bordeaux airport. That’s where he landed and he took off again about thirty minutes ago. He could be here in ten or fifteen minutes.’

‘His usual heliport is at the hotel,’ Bruno said. ‘But there are police all over it. If he decides to land here, do you think he’ll do so with a Gendarmerie van in the courtyard?’

‘See if you can move it under cover. Do you think he’s likely to be armed?’ J-J pulled his Manurhin revolver from a hip holster and checked the rounds. ‘What about you and Sergeant Jules?’

‘Jules has his standard PAMAS handgun. I’m unarmed.’

J-J raised his eyebrows and shrugged. ‘The last thing we want is a hostage situation.’

‘I’ll move the van.’ On the way out to the van Bruno asked Jules to look around for an envelope or message that the Count might have left for his grandmother or for Foucher. The keys of the van were in the ignition and he drove it out of the courtyard and round to the stables, where he found a barn half full of hay that was big enough to take it. He looked around the stables but could not see the white mare Eugenie had ridden, nor any sign of a groom. In a cupboard in the tack room he found a large syringe, too big for his standard evidence bag. He used two bags and took it to show Fabiola.