limitations. After a double fault, a missed volley and one accidentally
excellent serve that made Bruno think he might one day be able to play this
game, they changed ends.
Have you caught the bastard yet? Michel asked as they passed each other at the
net. He ran the local public works department. Sixteen men served under him and
he supervised a motor pool of trucks, ditch-diggers and a small bulldozer. He
was a powerful man physically though not tall, and compact with a small but firm
paunch. He was even more powerful in the life of the town and his signature was
needed on any planning permission. He came from Toulon, where he had served
twenty years in the Navy engineers.
Bruno shrugged. Its out of my hands. The Police Nationale are running the
show, and Paris has got involved. I dont know much more than you do, and if I
did, you know I couldnt talk about it.
He knew that his companions wouldnt let him get away with that. These four were
the towns shadow government. The Baron owned the land, and was rich enough to
make the discreet donations that helped the tennis and rugby clubs to keep
functioning as they did. Michel was a man of real influence and Xavier was the
Maire-adjoint, the deputy who did most of the administrative work and ran the
day-to-day business of the Mairie. He had worked in the sub-Prefecture in Sarlat
until he came home to St Denis, where his father ran the Renault dealership and
his father-in-law owned the big local sawmill. Along with Bruno and the Mayor,
these men ran the business of the town. They had learned to be discreet and they
expected Bruno to keep them informed, above all at these ritual Friday meetings.
Michel had a classic serve, a high toss of the ball and good follow-through, and
his first service went in. Brunos forehand return hit the lip of the net, and
rolled over to win the point.
Sorry, he called, and Michel waved acknowledgement then bounced the ball to
serve again. When they reached deuce, which they called egalité, two men entered
the court, shaking the raindrops from their faces. Rollo from the school always
arrived a little late. He waved a greeting, and he and Dougal, a Scotsman who
was the Barons neighbour and drinking chum, sat on the bench to watch the end
of the set. It was not long before Rollo and Dougal rose to take their turn.
This was the usual rule. One set, and then the extra men played the losers.
Bruno and the Baron sat down to watch. Rollo played with more enthusiasm than
skill and loved to attack the net, but Dougal had once been a useful club player
and his ground shots were always a pleasure to watch.
I suppose you cant say much, the Baron began, in what he thought was a low
voice.
Not a thing, replied Bruno. You understand.
Its just I heard there were some arrests over in Lalinde last night and that
you were involved. A chum of mine saw you there. I just want to know if there
was a connection to our Arab.
Our Arab, is he now? Bruno asked. I suppose he is, in a way. He lived here,
died here.
Our Arab I said, and I mean it. I know Momu and Karim as well as you do. I know
the old man was a Harki, and I have a very special feeling for the Harkis. I
commanded a platoon of them in the Algerian war. I spent the first month
wondering when one of them would shoot me in the back, and the rest of the war
they saved my neck on a regular basis.
Bruno turned and looked at the Baron curiously. In the town, he had a reputation
as a real right-winger, and it was said that only his devotion to the memory of
Charles de Gaulle kept the Baron from voting for the Front National.
I thought you were against all this immigration from North Africa, Bruno said,
breaking off to applaud as Michel served an ace.
I am. What is it now, six million, seven million Arabs and Muslims over here,
swamping the place? You cant recognise Paris any more. But Harkis are
different. They fought for us and we owed them and we left too damn many of
them behind to have their throats cut because we wouldnt take them in. Men who
fought for France.
Yes, the old man was a Harki. More than that, he got a medal. He fought for us
in Vietnam too, thats where he won it.
In that case, he wasnt a Harki. They were irregulars. He sounds like he was in
the regular Army, probably a Zouave or a Tirailleur. Thats what most of their
regiments were called. They were allowed back into France when it was over, but
most of the Harkis were refused entry and got their throats slit. And most of
the ones who made it to France were put in camps. It was a shameful time. Some
of us did what we could. I managed to bring some of my lads back on the
troopship, but it meant leaving their families, so the bulk of them decided to
stay and take their chances. Most of them paid the price.
How did you find out that they had been killed? Bruno wanted to know.
I stayed in touch with the lads I brought over, helped them get jobs, that sort
of thing. I took some of them on in my business. They had ways of keeping
contact through their families. You know Im not much of a churchgoing type, but
every time I heard one of my Harkis had been killed, I used to go and light a
candle. He stopped, looked down at his feet. It was all I could do, he
murmured. He cleared his throat and sat up. So tell me about our Arab, a good
soldier of France. Do you know who killed him?
No. Our enquiries continue, just like the police spokesmen say. Were just at
the start of the case and Im not even really involved. As I said, the Police
Nationale are handling it. Theyve set up a temporary office in the exhibition
rooms.
What about Lalinde?
There may not even be a connection. It seems to have been more of a drugs
bust, Bruno said, careful not to tell his friend an outright lie.
The Baron nodded, his eyes still fixed on the game. Rollo had just served two
double faults in a row.
Did I ever tell you about how we left Algeria? he asked suddenly. Bruno shook
his head.
We were in Oran, at the harbour. Chaos it was. De Gaulle had signed the peace
deal at Evian and then the Paras and half the army in Algeria launched that
crazy coup détat. I was the only officer in my unit who refused to join and I
would have done, except that I wouldnt go against de Gaulle. Anyway, my lads
would never have joined in. I was running a platoon of conscripts by then, young
Frenchmen, and they all had those new-fangled little transistor radios from
Japan so they could listen to their rock music. But what they also got on their
radios at that time was de Gaulle, telling them to disobey any officer who
wanted them to take up arms against the Republic, against him, against France.
So the conscripts stayed in their barracks and wouldnt move thats what
stopped the coup. They stayed there until the troopships came in to take us
home.
This was that time in 61? Bruno asked. General Salan and those people who
went on to start the
OAS
, the ones who tried to assassinate de Gaulle?
Thats right, said the Baron grimly. Anyway, I got our unit down to the
troopship, and on the way we picked up those of my old Harkis that we could
find, or who were smart enough to know they had better get out fast. My sergeant
had been with me all through the war and he liked the Harkis, so he helped. We
scrounged some uniforms no shortage of them and we just let them board with