Murder on Brittany Shores (32 page)

‘When did he set out?'

‘Around half past one, he said.'

‘Alone?'

‘Alone.'

Fantastic. How were they meant to find out whether he had taken a detour to Brilimec? He would have had enough time to do it. And even to take Le Menn somewhere too. As victim, perpetrator or accomplice. While Le Coz was speaking, Dupin had begun to make notes.

‘The mayor?'

‘He was working at home in his office almost all day, in…'

‘I know.'

‘Exactly, you visited him this morning, he told us. Then just between four o'clock and five o'clock he had an official engagement. In the local kindergarden. Monsieur Du Marhallac'h was very cooperative.'

‘Witnesses? The kindergarden children of course. It will be difficult for the time in the office. He claims to have talked to his wife on the phone several times, she is probably in London. On the landline. That can be verified.'

‘Brilliant.'

Dupin could not have enunciated this word with greater cynicism.

‘The younger Nuz daughter was at her boyfriend's place, they were in Quimper, the older one was working here in the
Quatre Vents
all day. Solenn Nuz was on the mainland. Apparently she runs errands every Tuesday and Friday. She left at half past ten and only got back an hour ago. She was in Fouesnant, in the mairie and ended in Concarneau. She came back with lots of big shopping bags. She ate in the
Amiral
at lunchtime, we were able to check that.'

Dupin felt a brief feeling of joy at the mention of the
Amiral.

‘And Madame Lefort?'

‘Bellec is speaking to her right now.'

‘Madame Barrault – the diving instructor?'

Le Coz looked at his notes.

‘She ran a course this morning, until one o'clock, then she ate at home. In the afternoon you were out with her of course and afterwards she went diving herself. She has also only just returned. Around the same time as Leussot.'

‘Where does Madame Barrault live?'

‘In the second house over there, with the triangular roof…'

‘I know it,' he said. ‘And she was alone at home over lunchtime?'

‘So she says. She thinks there definitely aren't any witnesses.'

Dupin couldn't help smirking. That sounded very much like Madame Barrault.

‘And what about old Monsieur Nuz, Solenn Nuz's father-in-law?'

‘You didn't mention Pasacal Nuz. But I did just speak to him. He is – a little withdrawn. He was in the
Quatre Vents
in the morning, reading the paper at the bar, then he was at home. At four o'clock he headed for the Moutons in his boat, apparently he does that every day, his granddaughter vouched for that. Headed off towards the shoals of mackerel, he came back at six with a pile of fish.'

‘Okay.'

A kind of high-pitched fanfare suddenly rang out. Le Coz answered the call straight away.

‘Yes?'

He turned to Dupin.

‘Bellec. He's got the additional information. Shall I put it on loudspeaker?'

Le Coz took Dupin's hesitation as agreement, pressed a button and placed the phone on the table in front of him.

‘Bellec. We're all listening now.'

‘
Bonjour,
Monsieur le Commissaire. I…'

This was always a horrific situation, Dupin thought, he hated talking hands-free like this.

‘Fire away, Bellec.'

They needed to make progress.

‘Madame Lefort was on Saint-Nicolas all day long, she was on the phone several times, including with her notary. She was in her office in the sailing school mostly, but walked back to her house several times. She went for a few walks. Madame Menez came over to her house for about half an hour at lunchtime. After their conversation she left to go to the sailing school on Penfret, to meet Madame Menez again, at around quarter past six.'

Even this was vague in parts and, where witnesses could confirm it in detail, they could only do so with a great deal of effort. This much was clear: for someone who was on the islands anyway, three-quarters of an hour would have sufficed for the Brilimec episode, depending of course on what had happened to Le Menn …

‘Madame Lefort seemed very concerned that she is now the prime suspect, also because she was questioned again so soon after the long conversation she had with you. I assured her that these were all routine enquiries.'

In truth this was the least of Dupin's worries right now. She should be anxious.

‘And the assistant, Madame Menez?'

‘Madame Menez appeared to be remorseful, although she seemed stubborn. She had several meetings with various sailing teachers today, in the office. At lunchtime she was at Madame Lefort's house, as I mentioned. Then she ate in the
Quatre Vents
and then finally had long team conferences with the heads of accommodation on Cigogne and Penfret.'

‘When did these team conferences begin?'

‘One ran from half two till four and one from five till half six. Madame Menez is still on Penfret.'

Dupin was making detailed notes.

‘When did she set out for Cigogne, I mean, when exactly after lunch?'

‘According to her statement she was in her house for a little while after lunch. And so left around quarter past two.'

‘Can someone confirm that?'

‘Not yet. We should check.'

It was driving Dupin crazy that none of this information was helping him to make any progress.

‘Please do, Bellec.'

Le Coz hung up.

‘Should we be verifying other statements too, Commissaire?'

Dupin reflected. Le Coz and Bellec had done some good work in such a short time, as meagre as the fruits of their labour seemed at the moment.

‘No need. Thank you.'

They were none the wiser. Everyone would have had the opportunity to make the trip to Brilimec. It would have to be a big, big coincidence for there to be witnesses. And it would probably be impossible to narrow down the relevant time further.

‘I spoke to Le Menn's wife again just now. After we found out that he went to the Glénan. I wondered whether she associated anything with Brilimec.'

Le Coz had torn Dupin away from his thoughts. That had been a good idea.

‘But there was nothing. Nothing at all.'

Dupin stood up abruptly.

‘None of this feels right to me.'

Riwal chipped in for the first time.

‘Goulch has taken charge of the forensics on Brilimec. He went back to the islands again too. Maybe they will find trace evidence in the house after all.'

‘Maybe.'

Dupin realised that his thoughts were taking on a life of their own. He walked a few metres to one side. He definitely had a few theories by now, some more specific than others, but overall the picture that emerged was still much too blurry. He couldn't find the truly central element.

Dupin looked at his watch. It was coming up to eight o'clock now. He had been up since five. And the day would not be over for a long time yet.

From this side of the
Quatre Vents
there was a clear view to the west, which actually meant you could watch the sun go down. But not this evening. The band of cloud had come menacingly close, piling up into a gigantic cloud front, a monster, probably no more than ten kilometres away. Pitch-black. Only now did Dupin notice that the wind hadn't just picked up, at this point it was continuously sweeping powerful squalls over the islands. But he knew: even that didn't mean anything yet in Brittany, he'd been through it all before, he was no rookie any more. Dupin looked at the sea. There were already white horses. And proper waves. That had been quick. On the way back to Saint-Nicolas from Brilimec he still hadn't noticed anything. But apart from the first small stretch, they had been going through the chamber and he had been staring at his mobile the entire time.

He took a few deep breaths.

‘You said that Kilian Tanguy is still here in the
Quatre Vents?
'

‘Yes. Out the front on the terrace.'

‘I'll have a word with him.'

‘As I said, he's got guests. Underwater archaeologists.'

‘So much the better.'

Dupin almost didn't recognise Kilian Tanguy in jeans and a colourful sweatshirt, instead of the neoprene suit, with a dry face and dry head. It was only the shape of his head that gave him away: it was like an egg. He had a bald head apart from a narrow, closely cropped hairline above the ears, which was still an untouched black; plus a fleshy nose and eyes full of fun. He was sitting with six men, all about the same age.

‘
Bonjour Messieurs,
Commissaire Georges Dupin from the Commissariat de Police Concarneau. I would like to speak to Monsieur Tanguy, but since I've heard that you're all underwater archaeologists, I'd like to put some questions to all of you.'

Dupin spoke firmly and low, which rarely failed to have the desired effect.

‘You're the police officer from Paris, aren't you?'

A well-built man with a baby face looked inquisitively at him. As did the rest of the table.

Dupin was sick of answering this question.

‘Did you know that Paris was called after the legendary sunken city Ys?' the man went on eagerly. ‘Par-Ys! After the Breton Atlantis which was infinitely magnificent and rich and worshipped the ocean as their only God in extravagant ceremonies. The kingdom of Gradlon, his daughter Dahut, who was fiancée of the sea and his magical horse Morvark, which is the symbol of a free Brittany to this day. Ys was off Douarnenez! There are many very serious archaeological indications.'

Dupin had never heard of this, just as he had never heard that Paris was ultimately Breton, apparently. Luckily, Kilian Tanguy chipped in at this moment.

‘I think that would be fine by all of us, Monsieur le Commissaire. You actually have a group of illustrious underwater archaeologists from the University of Brest in front of you, friendly associates of our small group in the club. How can we help the police?'

There was something mischievous in his voice. Something pleasantly mischievous.

‘Do you know anything about treasure hunts going on at the moment here on the coast? Have you heard rumours?'

The divers looked at each other, unruffled. Kilian Tanguy answered again.

‘You think a story about treasure hunting is behind the three murders?'

He clearly sounded proud at this.

‘We are investigating various avenues. And that is one of them. Nothing more.'

‘I haven't heard anything about a sensational find. Not even rumours.'

Tanguy added in a much more serious way:

‘But you must know, Monsieur le Commissaire, that we, as we say,
dive for wood,
not for precious metals! Underwater archaeology has absolutely different aims. Scientific aims. For example, we look for settlement sites from the Mesolithic era. As early as four thousand years before Christ, a Dolmen was erected here on Brunec and graves were dug on Saint-Nicolas and Bananec too. We know next to nothing about this culture. So much has now lain beneath the surface of the water for such a long time.'

His facial expression almost betrayed a kind of outrage now.

‘The sea has risen a hundred metres in the last ten thousand years! A hundred metres! A few thousand years ago, the British were still, God save us, coming to France with dry feet! – And if we take an interest in sunken ships, which we definitely do, then only in order to be able to study the historical boat architecture and techniques of their respective nautical epochs.'

A mild, tongue-in-cheek smile stole across his face.

‘Last year two sunken ships were found, one from the seventeenth century, one from the twentieth. In the one from the seventeenth century there were silver coins. The other one was unremarkable. Maybe thirty kilometres to the south of here.'

Tanguy had uttered these last sentences with marked cheeriness.

‘And there's no ship,' asked Dupin, ‘that, due to some documents or other, people know in theory must be in the vicinity but hasn't yet been found?'

Every gaze fixed on Dupin in astonishment. Tanguy took charge of answering again.

‘There are about two dozen of them – and that's within a radius of fifty nautical miles alone. And in at least a dozen cases the documents suggest cargoes of substantial value. Two of the ships are highly likely to have had large amounts of gold on board.'

‘You're pretty sure you know of two ships with gold cargo near here?' Dupin was astonished.

‘Don't go getting the wrong idea, it's more complicated than you think. Like a needle in a haystack. – In a wild, dangerous haystack.'

‘So none of you heard that one of the three dead mean was on a specific treasure hunt? That's what I want to know.'

‘No. Nothing.'

Dupin would have been interested to know whether one of the other divers would have had anything else to say. Apparently not.

‘Thank you, Monsieur Tanguy.'

Dupin had had enough of the stories now (as fascinating as they were). And if he were honest, all conversations on this topic ended inconclusively, as they had all day long. But it was clear: if the three had been on the trail of something big, they would have given their all to make sure nobody found out anything about it. And, if someone had learnt something and this was the motive behind the whole case, then that would be the perpetrator. And he definitely wouldn't say a thing.

Besides, Dupin was also unfocussed, he couldn't stop thinking about the issue of what had happened to Le Menn on the island. He didn't have a good feeling about it.

‘I'd really like…'

Dupin was suddenly interrupted by a noise. A sudden, strong squall had caught some of the
Quatre Vents
tables and chairs, knocking them over. The gust of wind had brought a smattering of fat raindrops with it. Considerable activity broke out. The previously quiet underwater archaeologists leapt up. One was in the process of rushing to the aid of a young couple whose table had fallen over, along with everything that had been on it. Tanguy and another man were protecting the things that were on their own table and hurrying to the bar with them. Everyone was moving swiftly, with precision and yet without any rush.