Merle: A French murder mystery (A Jacques Forêt Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “Mesdames et Messieurs. You’ve had time to think about the consequences of the plans for strengthening and re-surfacing the main road and how it might affect you. Can I ask for your comments, please?”

  Fermier Rouselle was on his feet in an instant. “Monsieur Mancelle, the closure of the cattle tunnel under the route nationale to help strengthen the road at that point will not affect me that much. I have pastures to the north of the village as well as the south, and I can transport and graze my animals wherever I like. But there are some in this village whose livelihoods will be put at serious risk if this plan goes ahead. Fermier Delacroix and Madame Pamier are just two examples. There are others. I object to this plan in the strongest possible terms, Monsieur.” He sat down to a round of applause, murmurs of support and a studiously puzzled look from Delacroix.

  The Maire stood and raised his hands to quell the noise. “Madame Pamier, your thoughts, please.”

  “This plan will affect my business greatly, Monsieur le Maire. I only have pastures on the southern side of the village, and I would have to hire transport for my beasts if I could not herd them through the tunnel under the road. I can not in all conscience consider moving them across the road because of the traffic. It would be too dangerous, Monsieur, and that is why the tunnel was created for us some years ago, but…” A ripple of light applause interrupted her and she paused to let it subside. “But there is another point that I want to raise: remembrance. My husband’s family has been in this village for generations. Their graves are in the village cemetery on the other side of the N88. Under this new plan, how will I be able to visit the graves in remembrance, Monsieur? More importantly, when we have a funeral, how will we pay our respects if we have no access to the graveyard?”

  The murmur that had started in one corner of the room as Madame Pamier sat down to await a response, rose to a crescendo, a mixture of aggrieved comments directed at the Maire and raised voices in support for Madame.

  “Please…Mesdames et Messieurs…please let me respond?” The Maire waited for the noise to subdue to a level that he could talk over. “Madame Pamier, thank you for your contribution, and I acknowledge your concerns. I know how important family is to you and your husband. I regularly see you as you walk through the village taking flowers to the graves of your loved ones. I understand why you do so, and I realise that keeping the tunnel open would be safer. But surely, just a little care and attention when crossing the N88 would be sufficient to keep you safe in future.”

  Madame Pamier stood immediately. “You say that now, Monsieur, but what about in twenty or thirty years’ time when my hearing is not so good and my eyes are starting to fail. Will it be safe for me then to visit the family graves? Will it?”

  The room erupted with cries of ‘Non!’ and ‘Impossible!’, and Fermier Rouselle stood again to make a further point. “Monsieur Mancelle, I agree with Madame Pamier. The proposal means that we would be cut off from our own graveyard as well as our southern pastures. I tell you again that we must oppose this idea in the strongest possible terms. I also demand that you answer Madame’s question in relation to how we would bury one of our own if we could not access the graveyard?” Rouselle, his cheeks flushed and a hard stare, sat down and let the other villagers barrack their elected representative.

  “Mesdames et Messieurs…” His arms outstretched in supplication, the Maire tried again to bring the meeting back to order. “Mesdames et Messieurs, please allow me to answer,” he shouted.

  The barracking continued until Rouselle stood again and held up his hands. Gradually, the raised voices subsided to a belligerent murmur.

  Jacques, sitting at the back of the room, exchanged a concerned look with Gendarme Clergue.

  “Thank you, Mesdames et Messieurs. It has been suggested that, in place of the usual procession through the village to the cemetery, vehicles could be used to transport mourners to…”

  His last words were drowned in a cacophony of cries of ‘Non!’ and ‘Jamais!’ from the villagers. Fermier Rouselle stood and waited. After about 3 or 4 minutes, the voices had dissipated to a strained silence.

  “I know we stood against each other in municipal elections a few months ago, Monsieur Mancelle, but you won the final vote by a margin, and I respect the choice made by my fellow villagers. I also accept that you are a gifted businessman who has done a lot for this community. So, I say what I say next as a statement of fact and not as an insult. I have no wish to cause offence. We are a small, close-knit community, Monsieur. You were not born in the village nor was your father, and it was your grand-father who chose to leave his ailing parents and younger brother with your family farm to manage. You are an in-comer. You do not fully understand our traditions and our ways, or if you ever did, you have forgotten anything you might have been taught. We have carried our loved ones through the village to the graveyard on foot for generations. That is how we honour our dead, Monsieur. That is how we have always done this. Where do you think that we are going to find the money for vehicles to transport mourners the 450 metres to our graveyard. It is a preposterous suggestion! Have you forgotten the tragedy that led to the cattle tunnel being built? Do you even know why it was built?”

  Rouselle paused momentarily for an answer, but none came. “I thought so! Like you, Monsieur, the Consul Général’s office, the Préfecture, all those in control, have forgotten. You and they do not understand us or our ways. We have always carried our dead to the cemetery ourselves. It is our right to do that. A right established over decades. It is our right to have safe access to our graveyard.” Rouselle underlined his last three sentences with a forceful pointed thrust of his outstretched right arm.

  The occupants of the room stood as one being and applauded as Jacques leaned across to Clergue. “There is a solution, you know, Thibault, but I think it needs to come from you.”

  Clergue nodded. “But I would need some assistance and do you think Fournier would agree?”

  “It’s a municipal matter, Thibault. What Fournier doesn’t know about, he can’t complain about, and let Mancelle fight it out with him. He’s the Maire, not you, and I can always step in and help if you need me to.”

  Clergue remained standing as people began to take their seats and a tense silence returned to the room. “I think we have a solution that can meet all needs, Monsieur le Maire. Perhaps we can discuss it in detail outside of the meeting.”

  “Thank you, Gendarme Clergue, and we will talk in the morning.” The Maire consulted his agenda and returned to his own chair behind the table set in front of the gathered crowd. “I think the next item is in relation to the campsite. Gaston, the floor is yours.”

  Gaston stood. “Monsieur le Maire, thank you. As you know I’ve been concerned about the potential loss of income from the campsite as a result of free camping. In July and August, I, Gendarme Clergue and ex-Gendarme Forêt worked shifts to enable us to catch as many people as possible who were taking advantage of the facilities provided without paying. Over those two months we collected 23% more revenue as a result. In other months of the year, any potential loss of income would probably be a lot less. I think that the municipality must look at how we can make the campsite more secure to ensure that we can capture at least some of this lost revenue.”

  The Maire remained seated and smiled broadly. “Thank you, Gaston. First of all, I want to formally thank you, Gendarme Clergue and Monsieur Forêt for the work that you put in over the summer. I understand that my grandson, Junior Gendarme Mancelle, helped with this, so we must record our thanks to him also.”

  The room applauded as Beth, a grin on her face, whispered in Jacques’ ear, “That’s child exploitation! He’s only five years old, Jacques. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  He took her hand and squeezed it. “He’s six now, and he’ll make an excellent policeman, one day.”

  “How is Pierre, Monsieur?” It was Madame Rouselle who asked. “I know he hasn’t been at school this last week.”

  �
�He’s at home tucked up in bed, but he will be well enough to go to school in a few days or so. Thank you for your concern. Back to business, we will consider your proposal in council.” He referred to his agenda and then addressed the floor. “Before I bring the meeting to a close, are there any remaining questions or issues that anyone would like to raise?”

  Gaston stood for a second time. “Monsieur le Maire, since the restaurant in Montbel closed in July, I have been gradually picking up more and more of their business and that is a good thing, both for me and the rest of the village. However, it does mean that I have less time to spend on my other duties within the municipality. I think that being responsible for the Salle des Fêtes, the bar and the restaurant should now become my sole remit, and I was wondering if we could find another way of managing the campsite.”

  Gaston’s question brought a reluctant and taut silence to the meeting, and the Maire thought for a moment before responding.

  “Yes,” he said and paused. “Yes, I can see why you think that relinquishing your duties in relation to the campsite might be a solution. We will discuss it in council, Gaston, and thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Standing, he looked across his audience and smiled. “If that is all, I will close the meeting. Let’s go over to the bar and relax with a drink. Gaston, charge the first round to me, please.”

  The room emptied into the chill night air and Jacques and Beth, hand in hand, strolled a few steps behind the rest of the village.

  “What was the terrible tragedy that Fermier Rouselle talked about?”

  “Some time in the seventies, a truck carrying newly felled trees, heading for the sawmill between here and Mende, came down from the col too fast. It was mid-September, it was raining and the driver lost control of his vehicle. It jack-knifed and ploughed into the herd that one of Rouselle’s uncles was driving across the road. I’m not sure of all of the details, but I think the truck driver was killed. Rouselle lost his uncle and one of the farmhands, another farmhand was injured and the herd scattered, and as a result some had to be put down and two were killed outright by the impact.”

  Beth looked across Jacques to the road. It was silent and, under the dark cloudy sky, almost imperceptible against the black of the mountains beyond. “Madame Pamier was right. Even now, visibility isn’t that good, is it?”

  “Not really. But you don’t need to worry about that. I’m certain Thibault and Monsieur le Maire can work something out and if necessary I’ll step in and help too.”

  “But I do need to worry about what happens here, Jacques, if I’m going to be spending a lot of time here.” She released his hand and slipped hers around his arm.

  He smiled at her. “Do you want to go the bar with everyone else or just go back to the chalet?”

  “The chalet.”

  “Ok. Now I’ve got you all to myself it gives me a chance to ask you how your visit to see Old Thierry went?”

  “It was acutely embarrassing, Jacques.”

  He turned towards her and stopped. “How so?”

  “He wants me to take all his photographic equipment. Which is fine in principle, and I was very flattered that he thought I might be interested. But when I asked him how much he wanted for it, he refused to say.”

  Jacques smiled. “That’s Old Thierry! He is the most-mild mannered, gentlemanly and generous man I know. His offer would have been genuine and rather than expecting to give you a price he would have been hoping that you would make an offer.”

  “I see! I wish I’d known that sooner.”

  “Do you want to take him up on his offer?”

  Beth let out a long sigh. “It would be really nice to do that, but he has some lenses that are worth, easily between €350 and €500. He also has some cameras that a collector could only dream about, which was why I had to refuse his offer. It was far, far too generous, Jacques. I couldn’t, in all conscience, accept.”

  “Beth, whilst you were in England, Thierry never stopped talking about your photographs from the Fête St Jean in June. He was also very impressed with your artistry on the portraits that you did of the other villagers. As was Madame Rouselle. She has become your ambassador here.”

  “I see.” Beth remained silent as they skirted the bar and took the road up towards Rieutort. Head bowed she watched her feet as they traversed the tarmac for a few steps. “The work on the portraits… It’s not that difficult. You’ve seen the software I use. It’s just manipulation of the photo, that’s all. Anyone can do it.”

  “But Thierry can’t. You have to remember that he will be ninety soon and he has not been well for some time. He recognises that, with digital photography, the world has changed so much and so rapidly that it has become alien to him. That’s why he sees you as his successor.”

  Beth took the key from her pocket and let them in. “Mmm, he gave me the names and addresses of three couples who wanted to book him for their wedding photographs. One couple is getting married next month and the other two next year. Apparently, he has shown them my work and they are happy that I undertake the commission.” She kicked off her shoes, left them by the door and threw her coat over the banister of the spiral staircase as she passed. “I haven’t contacted any of the couples yet. I wasn’t really sure if I should. It feels a bit like I’m stealing his livelihood.”

  Jacques followed her into the snug and took her in his arms. “It’s not stealing, Beth. It’s an opportunity. Thierry has given you this work because he knows you are the best person for the job.”

  She frowned. “I know, but I’ve only done a few weddings, just for family and a couple of friends. I’m concerned that I might not be able to match up to his well-established and well-known standards, and other people’s long-held expectations.”

  “So, that’s what this is all about!” He hugged her closer. “You’re far too talented to fail, Beth. Just believe in yourself for once.”

  friday, october 16th

  “Will you meet me for lunch today?”

  Beth nodded.

  “Good, afterwards we can go to Merle and look at the apartment…if you’re interested?” Jacques packed his papers into his bag.

  “Of course, I’m interested. It’s going to be your place and probably your permanent space. I want to see it and to share your hopes and thoughts for it…”

  “But you’re not sure you want to share it with me, right?”

  “I just need more time, that’s all. I don’t really know if I can make a life here, yet. I need to convince myself.” She smiled up at him. “Where are we meeting and what time?”

  “OK. Half past twelve at the Drap d’Or, then.”

  “Jacques, really nice to meet you after all this time. I’ve heard so much about you from Madeleine.” Hélène Hardi shook his hand firmly, a bright smile on her face, and then sat opposite him. “I was so sorry to hear that you and Madeleine had split up—”

  “I’m sure your time is precious, Hélène, and I don’t want to keep you from your work any longer than is necessary.” Consulting her personal file, he glanced at the papers, looked up at her, smiled and said, “I see you’ve worked here since January 2005.”

  Hélène nodded.

  “And that you’ve worked with Madeleine since arriving here. Is that correct?”

  She nodded again. Jacques continued to stare at the papers on the table as he wondered exactly what it was that she knew about his previous relationship with Madeleine. Looking through her application to join Vaux Consulting, he turned to the section that detailed her work experience.

  “You’ve worked in Paris, too, and I’ve noticed that you were employed there before you came to Mende, and before that you were working in Rouen and prior to that, it was Orléans.” All of which mirrors Madeleine’s career path. Looking up, he grinned. “That’s quite a bit of the country that you’ve covered, Hélène.”

  “It is. I’m lucky enough to be free to be able to please myself.” She let out a girlish giggle and shrugged.

  Grow u
p! His face remained composed as he addressed his next question to her and watched for her response. “I notice that you resigned from each of those previous posts. Would you like to tell me why?”

  She shifted slightly in her chair and then smiled. “I went on to a better paid job with more responsibility. I see project management as my career path now and I intend—”

  “So, it was nothing to do with following Madeleine from job to job.” Before she could answer, he continued, “Nothing to do with Madeleine finding those jobs for you and recruiting you herself?”

  “I just want to say—”

  “As she did for your post here, I suggest.”

  Slapping the flat of her hand on the table, Hélène sat upright, her round cheeks flushed, her voice raised. “I just want to say—”

  “I’ve checked with your last employer, Hélène. You were under investigation for intimidation of a junior employee at the time you left. Would you like to tell me about that?”

  She pushed her glasses up to the top of her nose. “It’s none of your business,” she spat. “Your remit is to undertake an internal investigation for this company. What happened before I came here is of no concern of yours.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He stared at her across the table until she finally looked away.

  “Can you take a look at this list, please, and tell me if you’ve provided any information for any of these tenders for work.”

  Hélène worked her way through the list assigning ticks as she scanned the page. “Just those I’ve noted,” she said as she tossed the page down in front of Jacques.

  “What sort of information did you provide?”

  “Mostly details of the human resource flow for an admin team, some costings for materials and base tasks for the project plan, but that’s all.”

  “Did you ever show those details to anyone outside the company?”

  “Of course not!” She frowned.

  “But, like Madeleine, I suppose you keep in touch with a network of people in other companies who have the same field of expertise as you, is that right?”