J. Janes - Salamander

Ah merde , sentiment had no place in a detective’s life. Louis was having trouble. The noise was constantly distracting him. Once a father, always one, the poor Frog would leap in alarm at each gap in the rumbling, each pause that might signal a cliff, an imminent head-on collision with a stone wall or tree, then he’d try to recover only to catch an impatient breath as the next bit of quiet suggested its ugly possibilities.

‘Monsieur Charlebois, don’t be so evasive, eh? A tragedy, my friend. Your sister …’

Rumble, rumble …

‘Mademoiselle Charlebois telephoned me here, Inspector. I assure you she could not possibly have tried to kill you,’ said the brother stiffly.

‘ And herself!’ shouted Louis nervously.

‘No, no,’ grunted Bishop Dufour. ‘It’s just not possible in one so tender.’

‘ Tender ? Is that how your secretary found her, Bishop? Ah, must I throw the two of you to the Obersturmfuhrer Barbie? That girl is out there, my friends. Does she have the phosphorus? Is she going to torch another crowded tenement?’

‘Inspector, what is this?’ demanded the antique dealer. ‘Are you suggesting Mademoiselle Charlebois is the Salamander?’

That was better, thought St-Cyr. He would take out his pipe now and begin to pack it and they would know he was doing so, because he would offer them some tobacco. Resistance tobacco!

An uncanny silence closed in on the hill, and for a moment all the bobsleighs had gathered for a rest or had departed, or perhaps it was the riders were simply hauling them back?

Louis waved out the match. ‘No, monsieur, I am not suggesting your sister is the Salamander.’

‘Then what are you suggesting?’ demanded Charlebois nervously.

‘Monsieur, if she telephoned you here, tell me, please, how she knew you’d be with Bishop Dufour? It’s a Saturday night. You cannot have seen her in some time or is it, monsieur, that you saw her at your shop at around seven this evening and that what she said then drove you to seek an audience with the bishop?’

‘Henri, let me,’ began Dufour. The Surete had no business being so high-handed! ‘Monsieur Charlebois and I had a meeting, Inspector, to discuss the final details for the concert. This meeting had been arranged for some time and was conducted over supper in the manse. Martine Charlebois would have known of it. She is also a member of our symphony orchestra.’

Ah nom de Dieu , had he to contend with them both? ‘The cello … yes, yes, Bishop. But the girl did try to kill me and herself …’

‘Surely not. The gas is often turned off by our German friends out of necessity, is that not so? Perhaps the main valve at the school was left open, the others also?’ said Dufour.

All right then! ‘Did you give Monsieur Charlebois absolution this evening, Bishop?’

‘If I did, Inspector, that is a matter between God, myself, Monsieur Charlebois and no other.’

The bastard!

‘Inspector,’ said the antique dealer, ‘I have a great deal of work to do tomorrow. There is an important sale in Paris on Monday afternoon and evening. The Reichsmarschall Goering will be there. Due to the robbery at my shop in Dijon, I must place a number of pieces up for auction and must have them ready to leave with me on the first train.’

How convenient! At 6 a.m. Berlin time, and with Frau Weidling, was that it? ‘Paris … yes. Yes, I understand, monsieur, but what of your sister? Surely you have a thought for her? A little concern, perhaps?’

‘Mademoiselle Charlebois will be at home where she belongs. Bishop Dufour will attest to the fact that I told her she had nothing to fear, Inspector, and that she was to go home and wait for me there.’

‘And then, monsieur?’ asked Louis, drawing on his pipe. God, but the city was quiet!

‘Then I will sort it all out, Inspector. I promise you there’s been nothing untoward. It’s all a misunderstanding.’

‘Yes, yes, a misunderstanding,’ echoed Dufour.

‘Bishop, we have the deaths of so many to consider, that of Father Adrian also, and now that of Monsieur Robichaud.’

‘Julien … but … but …’

Were they both so taken aback? wondered St-Cyr. Ah, it was not possible to tell, and now … why now the shouting grew again as the boys and girls struggled back up to the heights with their sleighs.

‘Inspector, surely Julien was not murdered? An accident …’ said the bishop, aghast at what had happened.

Louis was brutal. ‘No accident, Bishop, and now the city is at the mercy of the Salamander. Yes, my friends. With Robichaud out of the way, the Salamander has a clear field unless …’

Damned if Louis didn’t pause to tap out the pipe and begin to repack it!

‘Unless what , Inspector?’ asked Charlebois impatiently.

More shouting came from well off to the left. ‘Hey, Cecile, over here, my sweet little rocket. Let us have the challenge match!’

‘Together, Cecile, a marriage of our racers, with no holds barred.’

‘Marie, he wants to contest his little bit of sandpaper with our goddess of the ice!’

‘Every year it is the same,’ grumbled the bishop. ‘Shut up, you bunch!’ he shouted violently. ‘You are to leave the hill at once!’

Dead silence followed, then giggles, after which came laughter and a few catcalls. ‘A meeting !’ shouted Dufour angrily. ‘An important conference is in progress. The … the fate of the city …’

Rumble, rumble … bump … bump! Rumble, rumble … Ah merde , the first bend in the Stations of the Cross … A shriek! A cry …

Then cheers as the racers flew past others in the darkness.

‘Unless we have the truth, Bishop. The truth!’ leapt the Surete. ‘Mademoiselle Charlebois made a tragic mistake. Once committed, she had no other choice but to follow through.’

‘What mistake?’ demanded Charlebois.

Stung, Louis turned on him. ‘Please do not interrupt a police officer in the exercise of his duties, monsieur. A mistake compounded by a history of your abuse! Now I must have answers from you both!’

‘What abuse?’ asked Dufour, his suspicion all too clear.

Others had arrived. ‘Not physical, but mental,’ said Madame Rachline. ‘Admit it, Henri. You have always wanted Martine for yourself and to protect her purity. Oh not to love in a sexual way, Inspector-she would never have agreed to that-but to keep from others who would only violate her.’

‘Hermann …?’

‘Louis, I’m over here.’

‘Good! Prefet, this man is to be placed under arrest.’

‘Now wait a moment, Louis. Monsieur Charlebois …? Pah! It’s impossible. You must be out of your mind. You expect me to put the bracelets on him for what, please?’

Guillemette had always been difficult.

‘For the murder of Robichaud?’ snorted Charlebois.

The antique dealer was breathing quickly, but was it the moment to pounce? ‘Three people were involved in the cinema fire, monsieur …’

‘ Three , Louis?’ demanded Guillemette. ‘Don’t tell me our Salamander is three women and if so, hah! how does that explain your inclusion of Monsieur Charlebois?’

Hermann had best be working the shadows. If only the bob-sleighs would cease their torment again. ‘Madame Rachline, did you go to that cinema with Claudine Bertrand?’

It was all coming back to haunt them. Concarneau and the beach, Henri and his little sister. ‘I did not, Inspector. There are several who were at La Belle the night of the fire. Any or all of them, if necessary, will tell you I was at the house over the supper hour and left it to cross into my own house at about 9 p.m. to be with my children.’