Flykiller

‘Chez Crusoe,’ trumpeted Albert. ‘It’s by the Boutiron Bridge and not far from her hotel. They play records and dance. Sometimes when she comes to Vichy, Yvonne Printemps sings there after hours and there’s a piano player, but usually it’s … it’s only records or the wireless. Never the news from the BBC London. Never! That’s … that’s against the law.’

‘And the cigarettes, the brandy and cigars Henri-Claude Ferbrave gets?’ asked Herr Kohler quietly.

‘They come in a van,’ said Albert eagerly. ‘A van that has the Bank of France written on it. I know because I heard him saying so, and then saw it myself. I watched. Cartons and cartons of cigarettes from the Tabac National in Vannes, brandy from the Halle aux Vins in Paris – heaps of white flour, too, and coffee, this coff-’

The bloody Bank of France!

‘It’s all right, Albert. Don’t worry,’ soothed Lulu. ‘The Inspector’s a friend. You heard what he said to that one when he had me trapped in the lift. “You hit her and I’ll kill you. Maybe I will anyway.”’

‘I … I borrowed our coffee from the van,’ confessed Albert, not looking at either of them. ‘The driver and his helper were too busy to notice. It was cold and dark. I hid it but then … then I made the coffee, real coffee, for the boys and … and told them the sack had fallen off a German lorry. They all patted me on the back, my father especially.’

‘A bank,’ Louis had said of the woman. A full safe with extra strongboxes just waiting to be opened if one could find the keys!

‘Madame Petain …’ he attempted, only to hear Lulu cluck her tongue and tartly say, ‘Is not a friend of Albert’s.’

‘She doesn’t like idiots,’ whispered Albert, ducking his eyes down at the floor. ‘She and the doctor think I should be sent away.’

‘But she did say something to her coiffeur on the day Madame Dupuis fell asleep …’ hazarded Herr Kohler, a slow learner perhaps, thought Lulu, but a learner all the same.

‘Asleep – there, you see, Madame Lulu. I was right!’

‘Of course you were. Of course. Inspector, I did not listen in as Dr Menetrel supposes, nor do I tell anyone what I may or may not have overheard. Monsieur Laurence Davioud is coiffeur to many of the wives of important ministers and government officials, those of the foreign ambassadors, too, and even those of inspectors of finances, I believe.’

A treasure … ‘And Ferbrave?’

‘Is a very dangerous man, so Albert and myself, we will appreciate your continued protection.’

‘He knows things,’ said Albert darkly. ‘Secret things. I’ll bet if he knew what I’d found, he’d want to take it from me, but I’m not going to tell him my special secret, Madame Lulu. I’m not! I’m going to keep it all for myself.’

Ah Sainte Mere, why must the boy always be picking things up? ‘What, Albert? Show me what you found?’ she coaxed. ‘You know I won’t tell anyone, not even your mother, if you don’t want me to, and as for the inspector, why he’s here to help us.’

‘I hid it. I can’t tell.’

‘Now, Albert … One good turn deserves another.’

‘I can’t hear you. I’ve got to stoke the fire.’

‘Albert, I must insist. Yvette will only ask me and I want to be able to tell her how helpful you’ve been.’

‘The other one took my ring. He said it would be dangerous for me if I kept it.’

‘Yes, yes, but this … this assassin they’re looking for will know you found something else. Nothing is ever secret for long in this place. Nothing.’

The firebox was stoked, the coals rabbled for clinkers. Sparks flew up, mesmerizing Albert. Madame Dupuis had been asleep. She had!

‘Son, give it to him,’ said the elder Grenier, coming into the furnace room. ‘You must, Albert.’ His hand went out to caution the others. ‘My son knows how important it is, Inspector. Albert was just waiting for the right moment to turn it over to you or your partner.’

The hiding place, no doubt one of several, thought Kohler, was behind the access plate at the bottom of the chimney. Dusted with soot, some of this sprinkled away as the folded rag was opened.

Brass at its ends, rosewood along its gently curved and palm-fitting haft, the folded-in blade silvery, the pocket knife gleamed.

Herr Kohler was humbled, thought Lulu. ‘I’ll see you get another just like it,’ he said, so gently for such a big man. ‘Now tell me where you found it.’

‘In the toilet. On … on top of the shit.’

‘The drains to our outdoor toilets become frozen in winter, Inspector,’ interjected the elder Grenier. ‘Since we have so many visitors these days, the Government decided to install two portable toilets next to the permanent ones in the park. Among my son’s tasks is the job of checking these twice each day, just to see there is paper if needed.’

Paper was in such short supply it was a wonder it wasn’t repeatedly stolen, unless, of course, Albert kept his eye on those two portables more than twice a day … ‘And the knife was lying there as if dropped?’

‘Albert washed and oiled it.’

‘I polished it. I shined it up. It’s brand-new and hasn’t …’ His voice trailed off. ‘Ever been used, I guess.’