Murder on Brittany Shores (16 page)

‘No. Nothing at all. I've also spoken to Madame Menez already, she saw him just yesterday. You should speak to his girlfriend.'

‘We will. Is there any other family? Do we need to inform anyone else?'

‘Oh no. There's only a distant uncle, with whom we haven't been in touch for more than ten years. What else do you know, Monsieur le Commissaire? It's important for me to find out everything. It makes it more real.'

‘We are assuming that someone mixed the sedatives into their food or drink in the
Quatre Vents.
'

‘In the
Quatre Vents?
Unbelievable.'

Suddenly there came a strange buzzing sound, his mobile was moving across the table. The Prefect. Dupin kept speaking, undeterred.

‘You yourself were in fact in the
Quatre Vents
at the time we suspect it happened, around half eight?'

Dupin's tone of voice didn't match the sharpness of his question. Muriel Lefort sat up straight and moved back a little in her chair. She didn't reply.

‘Has something unusual crossed your mind?'

‘Mine? No. I was only in the
Quatre Vents
briefly. I got something to eat. An
entrecôte.
You can get it to go too. I do that sometimes when I have a lot on. I spent the whole evening doing paperwork. In the office. I exchanged a few words with Leussot beforehand. Small talk. Armelle Nuz served me. I didn't see Solenn at all.

The word ‘
entrecôte
' had not had a good effect on Dupin. He could feel how terribly hungry he was, he was practically dizzy. And
entrecôte
–
entrecôte frites
– was by far his favourite food. He tried to concentrate on the conversation.

‘Where was your brother standing or sitting when you came into the
Quatre Vents?
'

‘Near where you get the drinks, by the bar, but later also on the other side of the passage. To the right. With a blonde woman.'

‘So you were only two or three metres apart. You and your brother.'

‘Yes.'

‘But you're saying you didn't speak to him?'

‘I don't think he even noticed me. He was absorbed in his – conversation. There really was a lot going on in the
Quatre Vents
yesterday evening.'

‘We know that. Who else was standing nearby? At the bar? Who was waiting for their food or came to get drinks?'

Dupin knew that his question would not lead anywhere.

‘You're asking too much there.'

She paused for a moment, it was clear that she was trying very hard to think.

‘Leussot was coming towards me with a bottle of wine when I went to the counter, we spoke there briefly. Maela was sitting right at one of the two tables to the left of the bar. Along with two of our colleagues,' she faltered and obviously felt obliged to add, ‘two reliable young men, above all suspicion – then – there were definitely five or six people ahead of me, although the queue was moving quickly. People I didn't know, no doubt they were from the diving centre, or even some of ours, I don't know all the course participants after all. Oh yes, and Kilian – Kilian Tanguy was at the top of the queue when I came over, he had a big tray in his hands, Armelle had just put something else on it for him.'

Dupin had noted down a few things. Muriel Lefort had seemed nervous for the last few minutes, in some indefinable way. Her voice sounded distinctly more shaky than it had before. Perhaps it was just the exhaustion.

‘I'm terribly sorry to wear you out with all these questions under these circumstances.'

‘Personally, I want everything to be cleared up as quickly as possible of course. You know that we truly did not have a harmonious relationship, my brother and me. We had conflicting ideas. But – he was my brother.'

It sounded like more than an empty phrase.

‘Do you have any idea who might have killed your brother then, a theory of what it might have been about?'

‘It's been a long time since we've spoken to each other about personal things. Many years. As I said, there was a series of people he was at loggerheads with, but I don't know of anyone specific in recent weeks or months. I can't actually tell you anything about my brother's life.'

‘What was the contact like between you in the last few months?'

‘In February and March we met for about an hour at a time maybe and we also talked on the phone a few times, every three weeks or so. We never talked about anything private, only about things related to the sailing school. And it always led to arguments. He usually just hung up. And at the end of last year he started on about his plans again.'

‘The new tourism plans?'

‘Yes. He's always had megalomaniac ideas. He wanted to make the archipelago into a modern water sports and adventure tourism centre. He submitted his plans for the first time ten years ago. This time it was under the pretext of ‘ecotourism'. After the old mayor of Fouesnant died, whom he'd battled against all these years, he thought he would have another chance with Du Marhallac'h, the new mayor. He was probably willing to have everything submitted to him again.'

‘Was he?'

Madame Lefort looked at the Commissaire in shock.

‘Yes.'

‘I heard he hadn't commented on it yet.'

The shock on her face grew.

‘Lucas told me, back in February, I think.'

Dupin made a note.

‘What exactly did he say?'

‘That the mayor had informed him, with regard to his renewed request which he had submitted at the beginning of the year, that what he'd presented sounded “interesting” and that they wanted to looked at the plans in detail.'

Muriel Lefort had spoken noticeably more quickly.

‘I'm sorry to be so insistent – a bad habit of mine, please forgive me.'

Madame Lefort smiled with relief.

‘Even the new or “ecological” plans would have required not just approval from the municipality and the region, but also, due to the strict coastal protection laws, approval from Paris. Strangely, Lucas was always certain he would get them. I think Konan played a part in that, he probably had good political connections in the capital. He lived there most of the time after all.'

‘Was Konan caught up in all of these plans, I mean, were they pursuing this together?'

‘I couldn't say. It seemed that way to me. At the beginning anyway. Ten or twelve years ago when my brother started it.'

‘So Konan's money was at stake too?'

‘I think so.'

Dupin made another note in his notebook – there had been a lot of notes since this morning, which was never a good sign.

‘Besides, my brother wanted to expand the sailing school. “Internationally” – he wanted to open even more locations. Five more branches in the coming year. I was categorically against it. I think his idea was to become the manager of the international sailing business in the event of his plans here on the islands falling through again and, as they say, “to expand globally”.'

‘Will the entire sailing school belong to you now?'

Dupin had asked the question – one of his preferred methods – extremely abruptly.

‘Purely a routine question,' he added and took a swig of cognac, which tasted extraordinary, as he'd already noted earlier on.

Again there was an unchecked, anxious cast to Muriel Lefort's features for a moment.

‘I don't know whether he made a will. And if so, what it contains. For my part, I drew up a will a long time ago now, providing for the transfer of my share to a not-for-profit foundation in the event of my death. The foundation is then supposed to support the sailing school. A notary acquaintance of mine wrote it up – I've always wanted to convince my brother to join me. He had no interest in doing so.'

‘So the whole sailing school will probably belong to you.'

‘I really don't know,' she wrinkled her forehead, ‘I – probably, yes.'

The simple question of who had a material benefit after a murder case – everyone always wanted to deflect it of course – might have seemed old-fashioned, but it was still elementary. Who got something out of the death? And what, exactly? ‘Traditional' motives for murder still ruled the world: envy, humiliations and hurts, revenge, jealousy and greed dominated all statistics by a wide margin. Even though the murderers in films, television series and books these days were only ever psychopaths.

‘How much would you say your company is worth?'

Muriel Lefort's gaze made it clear that she deemed the word ‘company' inadequate.

‘It's hard to say.'

‘You must make a certain turnover every year, all things considered. And the company will be worth a multiple of that.'

‘I'll give you the figures later. I'll speak to my head bookkeeper.'

‘What do you know about Konan's relationship to your brother?'

‘Almost nothing. They were here together maybe once a month, at the weekends. I always thought they went out in Konan's boat. He has quite a stylish boat. They liked to show up at the
Quatre Vents
or at the parties in the sailing school.'

‘Didn't they sail together?'

‘Not at the weekends. I think my brother has been taking longer trips in recent years. With his former teammates. I haven't seen his sailing yacht in ages. It's in Concarneau.'

‘We've heard that already.'

It had become a long conversation after all. He would leave Madame Lefort in peace now.

‘There might even have been a new treasure hunt. I just don't know.'

Muriel said this in a serious way, but also somewhat off-hand. Dupin didn't know quite how to reply.

‘Treasure hunt?'

‘Yes.'

‘You mean the search for actual treasure? Gold, silver and all that?'

‘It's a kind of sport here on the archipelago. Even if nobody talks about it. It's more serious than it might sound. There's a group of underwater archaeologists in the diving club. Scientists and amateur archaeologists. They cooperate with the official departments of the universities of Brest and Rennes. Everything seems very makeshift, but don't let that fool you. We don't set much store by appearances out here.'

‘What's that meant to mean?'

Dupin ran a hand through his hair. Treasure-hunters. It sounded absurd.

‘I mean, what kind of treasures are involved?'

‘There are dozens of capsized boats lying around the Glénan. Some famous ships. Especially from previous centuries. The waters are dangerous here. Lots of wrecks have already been discovered, there are special sea maps they're marked on. With other wrecks, people know more or less where they're supposed to be, but haven't found them yet. And obviously there must be many more.'

‘And what are people looking for in the wrecks?'

‘Last year a diver found a chest from the seventeenth century with half a ton of well preserved silver coins. It's about anything valuable. Jewellery, gemstones, coins made from gold, silver, bronze. Old weapons, even cannons. Handcrafts. For the archaeology departments it's about science of course.'

Dupin didn't know what to make of this information; it sounded like a sailor's yarn.

‘You said nobody speaks about it?'

‘Nobody would give away a good lead.'

‘But the treasures – I mean, discovered and salvaged objects from sunken ships actually belong to the state, not to the member of the public who finds them.'

‘Ten per cent of the value goes to the finder, that alone can be attractive. Can you imagine how many valuable things have been hidden here in secret? Nobody understands this.'

‘And your brother was a treasure-hunter too?'

‘Oh yes.'

She said this as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

‘Even as a child it fascinated him. He has discovered some ships. But nothing of value. As far as anyone knows. As I said, here on the archipelago and in the surrounding waters, treasure hunting is very popular. You should speak to Anjela Barrault some time – she's the head of the diving centre. And to Monsieur Tanguy, he's an amateur archaeologist himself.'

Dupin was still inclined to dismiss the issue as fantastical.

‘What was the value of this chest? The one with the silver?'

‘Over half a million.'

That was a significant amount. And very real.

‘Konan picked a fight with the old mayor a few years ago – it was about some kind of salvaging rights.'

‘Excuse me?'

Muriel Lefort had adopted an off-hand tone again.

‘I only remember vaguely. Kilian Tanguy was talking about it.'

‘You don't know any more than that?'

‘No.'

‘And that crossed your mind again just now?'

Madame Lefort, her exhaustion visible again, looked at him quizzically.

‘I've asked too much of you in this situation. You should rest.'

‘Yes, that would be good. I'm really exhausted.'

‘I'll be in touch tomorrow during the course of the morning. I still have a few questions.'

‘Of course. Get in touch, I'll be in the office.'

Muriel Lefort stood up before the Commissaire and Dupin followed her.

‘
Bonne nuit,
Madame Lefort.'

‘
Bonne nuit.
'

She soundlessly closed the door behind him.

*   *   *

It was like a wonderful dream. Madame Lefort had not exaggerated about a night with a full moon. It
was
a whole new world, produced by an extraordinary light with unfamiliar colours. A world in a faraway universe, with different laws and realities. The moon shone with a silvery-white power that Dupin – he was sure of this – had never seen before. Just like sunlight during the day, the moonlight reflected off the sea. It was bright, really bright. But it was not the brightness of daytime. The whole world looked changed: the rocks, the beach, the small stone wall in front of Muriel Lefort's garden. The light cast vague shadows that melded together around the edges. The moon world and the things in it gleamed dimly, a gleam somewhere between a secret, beauty and eeriness. The craziest thing was the sea: an absolutely motionless surface, like frozen mercury, the bizarre black shapes of the islands slipping into it. It was a perfect, mystical setting. If you were to see Groac'h, the witch of shipwrecks, right here and now, floating over the water to her legendary palace, it would have looked absolutely natural.