Graeme Burnet - The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau

The maid left Gorski in the hall and returned a few moments later to show him into the reception room. It was exactly as he recalled. The air in the room was dead, as if it had not been disturbed since his last visit. The maid informed him that M. Paliard would join him in a few minutes and offered him a refreshment while he waited. Gorski asked for a glass of water.

‘It’s very hot,’ he said, immediately scolding himself for feeling the need to justify such a modest request. The maid disappeared and returned with a jug of iced water and two glasses on a silver tray. When she left, Gorski poured himself a glass and downed it. He was still sweating from his walk through the woods. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. Céline maintained that sweating was a lower class habit. And it was true, in twenty-two years of marriage, Gorski had never seen his wife perspire.

The old man arrived. He gripped a walking stick in each hand and leant heavily on them. A plastic tube was attached to his nose with medical tape. His skin was a greyish yellow and hung loosely on his face. Nevertheless Gorski recognised him immediately. Despite his frailty, he retained an air of authority. He struggled to a sofa and dropped down into it with difficulty. He motioned with a crooked finger that Gorski should sit, which he did. Paliard’s fragile state of health sharpened Gorski’s feeling that his visit was an intrusion.

Paliard made no attempt to initiate proceedings. There was no What can I do for you ? or How can I help you, Inspector ? Only those cowed by the presence of a police officer began in such a manner. Old money, Gorski had long since learned, treated the police with disdain. They were received as, in the past, the gamekeeper or the stableboy might have been.

‘You’ve risen in the ranks since our last meeting, Inspector.’

‘Yes,’ said Gorski.

‘That probably says more about the mediocrity of our police force than any ability on your part.’ A thin smile flickered across Paliard’s lips. The effort of this prompted a wheezing cough from the back of the old man’s throat. He indicated that Gorski should pour a glass of water from the jug on the table. Gorski did so and handed it to Paliard, who waited for the wheezing to subside before taking a sip. Gorski was reminded of the hours he spent sitting silently with his father in the latter days of his life. He waited for Paliard to catch his breath.

‘I’m investigating the disappearance of Adèle Bedeau,’ Gorski said by way of justifying his reappearance, despite the fact that the current investigation had no bearing on his visit or at least not one that he could easily have explained. In any case, Paliard ignored him.

‘I remember your last visit. I was as unimpressed with you as I was with the conclusion of the case you were investigating. What was the name of the girl?’

‘Hurel, Juliette Hurel.’

‘Yes,’ said Paliard. ‘It was a vagrant that got done for it, was it not? Malou, if I recollect?’

‘That’s right,’ said Gorski. He was embarrassed that the old man recalled the details of the case.

‘Not a shred of evidence, if I remember correctly. A real stitch-up.’

‘There was an eyewitness that placed him in the vicinity,’ said Gorski without conviction.

Paliard tutted slowly and shook his head.

‘I’m quite sure even a man of your limited intelligence would not place too much credence on the evidence of an attention-seeking old woman.’

‘Malou was tried and found guilty,’ said Gorski.

‘And thus you absolve yourself of responsibility. Splendid!’ said the old man.

Gorski said nothing. He was beginning to regret calling upon Paliard, especially given the ill-defined grounds for his visit. At the end of the day, the conviction of Malou was not his responsibility. He had been obliged to follow up a lead and likewise he was obliged to divulge the testimony of the widow. It had not been his decision to prosecute Malou, nor had it been he who had found him guilty. There was, however, little to be gained from putting this to Paliard.

‘As I said,’ he began again, ‘I’m investigating the disappearance of Adèle Bedeau.’

Paliard shook his head again. ‘I find it hard to believe that even a man such as yourself could think that I might be able to furnish you with any information in that connection. Rather, I imagine you are here because you believe there is a connection between the two cases. And, as such, it stands to reason that you think that Malou was falsely convicted.’

Gorski could see no way of progressing the interview without conceding the point.

‘Yes,’ he said. He was not sure he had ever admitted this to anyone other than Céline. In a way it was a relief to do so.

Paliard showed no sign of satisfaction at his small victory. ‘So, given that you are, as I gather from the newspapers, getting nowhere in your current investigation, you think that the case you failed to solve twenty years ago might shine a light on the present one.’

Hearing Paliard articulate his thoughts made it sound every bit as ridiculous as Gorski feared it would.

‘You’re clutching at straws then?’

‘Yes, I am,’ said Gorski.

‘A man who doesn’t clutch at straws drowns,’ said Paliard. He looked at Gorski. He had narrow pale blue eyes. Gorski wondered if he detected a hint of encouragement in Paliard’s words.

‘Inspector Gorski, in a matter of minutes my nurse is going to appear at the door there and tell you that your time with me is up. I suggest that if you’ve got something on your mind, you come to the point.’

Gorski felt he had nothing to lose. It did not seem likely that Paliard could have a lower opinion of him than he already did.

‘Ever since the trial, I’ve gone back to the clearing where the murder took place. It’s ridiculous, of course, but I thought there might be something that had been overlooked. I suppose I was hoping for a moment of inspiration.’ He paused, expecting Paliard to inject some sarcastic remark, but he said nothing.

‘After a while, I just went up there out of habit. Often I didn’t think about the case at all, or I just thought about whatever case I was working on at the time. It’s quiet up there. You couldn’t pick a better spot for a murder.’

Gorski felt that he was beginning to ramble. To his surprise, however, Paliard was listening attentively. ‘Since this girl disappeared I’ve been thinking about the Hurel case again. One thing’s for sure, if Malou was not the culprit then the real killer is still at large. I always believed at the time that the perpetrator must have been local, which was one of the reasons I never believed that Malou was the guilty party. So it stands to reason that he may still be in the area, assuming he’s still alive, of course. So when Adèle Bedeau disappeared I couldn’t help wondering if the same killer was at work.’ He shrugged. ‘As you said, I’m clutching at straws.’

Paliard said nothing.

‘I was in the woods a short while ago. For no particular reason, I left the clearing in a different direction than usual and found myself at the gate in the wall to the back of this property.’

The door opened. A young woman in a blue medical smock entered.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now. Monsieur Paliard is not able to receive visitors for long. It exhausts him.’

Paliard jerked his thumb towards the nurse. ‘She likes to talk about me as if I’m not here.’

Gorski smiled thinly.

‘I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time. I came on a whim. I’m sorry for disturbing you.’

Paliard waved away his apology. ‘Not at all. I’ve found our talk quite stimulating. Feel free to call again. Only…’ He was interrupted by another fit of wheezing.