connection with the Commandos dAfrique who had landed near Toulon in 1944. And
did the archives have a photograph of the young Hamid al-Bakr?
Yes, I remember. And we should have an identity photo on the copy of his pay
book, if not for the Commandos dAfrique then certainly after his transfer. Give
me your phone number and Ill call back, and a fax so I can send a copy of the
pay book photo. Im afraid we cant send the original. And please convey my
regards to your charming colleague.
Bruno smiled at the effect Isabelle seemed to have on the telephone, and began
thinking what other lines to pursue. He was about to ring Pamelas number when
he suddenly caught himself, took a piece of notepaper from his desk and wrote a
swift letter of thanks for his English dinner. He put the envelope in his Out
tray, then rang Pamela, exchanged amiable courtesies, and asked for Christine.
He gave her the new names for her researches in Bordeaux, made sure they had one
anothers mobile numbers and rang off. Instantly the phone rang again. It was
J-J
.
Bruno, I want to thank you for that good work on Jacquelines movements, he
began. It turns out those Dutch lads she was with are well known up there.
Drugs, porn, hot cars you name it, theyre into it. From what I see of their
convictions, in France wed have locked them up and thrown away the key, but you
know how the Dutch are on prisons. To get to the point, we showed Jacqueline the
evidence you collected and she cracked last night. I tried to reach Isabelle
late last night to tell her but she was out of contact; bad mobile service out
there in the country, I suppose. Anyway, we have a full confession on the drugs,
but shes still saying nothing on the murder.
Thats great as far as it goes,
J-J
. What about Richard? Was he involved in the
drugs?
She says not, so I dont think we can still hold him. We cant shake his story,
and now that shes come clean on the drugs Im inclined to believe her on the
killing. If it were up to me, Richard would be out today, but that decision is
up to Tavernier. By the way, what did you guys do to him yesterday? He came back
steaming and spent hours on the phone to Paris.
I think our Mayor gave him a talking to, as an old friend of his fathers. You
know he got the gendarmes to pull an arrest on Karim, the young man who found
his grandfathers body. For assault, after Karim charged into those Front
National bastards in the riot.
He did what? He must be out of his mind. Half of France saw that riot and they
all think you St Denis lads are heroes.
Not Tavernier. He said the law had to be even-handed.
Even-handed, between a bunch of thugs and some law-abiding citizens? He must be
mad. Anyway, you seem to have sorted it out. Anything else?
We seem to be making a bit of progress on that photo of the football team. Ill
keep you posted.
Its a bit of a sub-plot, Bruno, but keep at it. Were still looking for a
killer, and we dont have any other leads.
As he rang off, Bruno heard Mireilles voice in the corridor greeting Momu.
Should he not be at school at this hour? He looked out into the hallway and saw
Momu about to go into the office of Roberte, who looked after the Sécu, the
social security paperwork. He waved and Momu came over to shake his hand.
I cant stop, he said. I just came up in the morning break to sign these
papers closing down my fathers Sécu. But its good to see you.
Give me ten seconds, Momu. I have a picture to show you. He went and got the
fax from his desk, without much conviction that Momu might recognise any of
them, but since he happened to be here
Where in heavens name did you get this? Momu demanded. Thats my father as a
young man, or his identical twin. Whats the name? He pulled out his reading
glasses. Hussein Boudiaf, Massili Barakine and Giulio Villanova. The Boudiafs
are our cousins, so I suppose its a family likeness, but thats an
extraordinary resemblance. And Barakine? I recall that name from somewhere.
Villanova is the coach he talked about. But that Hussein Boudiaf Id almost
swear it was my father as a young man.
Bruno sighed as he opened his mail and read three more anonymous denunciations
of neighbours. It was the least pleasant aspect of the citizens of St Denis, and
of every other Commune in France, that they were so ready to settle old scores
by denouncing one another to the authorities. Usually the letters went to the
tax office, but Bruno got his share. The first was a regular letter from an
elderly lady who liked to report half the young women of the town for
immorality. He knew the old woman well, a former housekeeper for Father
Sentout who was probably torn between religious mania and acute sexual jealousy.
The second letter was a complaint that a neighbour was putting a new window into
an old barn without planning permission, and in such a way that it would
overlook other houses in the village.
The third letter, however, was potentially serious. It concerned that
incorrigible drunk Léon, who had been fired from the amusement park for
misplacing Marie-Antoinette on the guillotine and cutting her in half rather
than just decapitating her, much to the horror of the watching tourists. They
were even more appalled when he fell drunkenly on top of her. Now Léon was
reported to be working au noir for one of the English families who had bought an
old ruin and had been persuaded that Léon could restore it for them, payment in
cash and no taxes or insurance.
He sighed. He wasnt sure whether to warn Léon that somebody was probably
reporting him to the tax office, or to warn the English family that they were
wasting their money. Probably hed do both, and tell the English about the
system whereby they could pay a part-time worker legally and cheaply, and still
have the benefit of workers insurance. Léon had a family to support, so Bruno
had better get him onto the right side of the Sécu. He checked the address where
he was supposedly working, out in the tiny hamlet of St Félix, where he had had
a report of cheeses being stolen from a farmers barn.
He looked again at the letter about the offending window. That was St Félix as
well; mon Dieu, he thought, a crime wave in a hamlet of twenty-four people. He
sighed, grabbed his hat, phone and notebook, plus a leaflet on the legal
employment of part-time workers, and went off to spend the rest of the day in
the routine work of a country policeman. Halfway down the stairs he remembered
that he would need his camera to photograph the window. Fully burdened, he went
out to his van, thinking glumly that Isabelle would not be very impressed if she
knew how he usually spent his days.
Three hours later he was back. The English family spoke almost no French, and
his English was limited, but he impressed upon them the importance of paying
Léon legally. He would leave it to them to discover the mans limitations. The
owner of the allegedly offending window had not been at home, but Bruno took his
photographs and made his notes for a routine report to the Planning Office. The
affair of the stolen cheeses had taken most of his time, because the old farmer
insisted that somebody was destroying his livelihood. Bruno had to explain
repeatedly that since the cheeses were homemade in the farmhouse, which fell
well short of the standards required by the European Union, they could not be