Murder on Brittany Shores (39 page)

‘It was murder, wasn't it? It was murder. It was Lefort and Konan.'

Solenn Nuz still remained calm.

‘They let him drown,' she said. ‘The motor was defective apparently. Nobody knows exactly. Between the Glénan and the Moutons. The sea was already really churned up. He probably went overboard when he tried to fix something. They saw what happened, Lefort and Konan. They saw it. That he was floating in the water. They positioned themselves parallel and Lefort got on board. And he…' her voice changed for the first time, although only slightly, becoming flatter, ‘he saw him, he left him to his fate in the sea. He looked for the application where he knew it should be, he knew our boat.'

She paused for a long time.

‘He took it and got back onto his boat. Then they left,' she faltered again. ‘They thought they'd submit it, and if it was accepted, they could claim Jacques had given them the document – then it would have been three statements against mine.'

That was it. That was the story. The dark core of everything. And – what had happened to Lefort and Konan on Sunday night was this: they had suddenly found themselves in the exact same situation as Jacques Nuz ten years before. Hopelessly floating, without lifejackets, in a fierce storm in relentless Atlantic currents.

‘And Le Menn?'

‘He was almost directly behind them. Le Menn saw them, not everything, but the crucial part – that Jacques was in the sea and Yannig and Lucas were driving away. He didn't stop. He kept going. He didn't do anything. Not even afterwards. He was afraid of Lucas. He was a coward. He was always a coward.'

Things were falling into place in Dupin's mind, the pieces of a gruesome, brutal and terribly sad puzzle were slotting together. Just a few were still missing.

‘How long have you known about it? How did you find out? Did you find the application that was deposited in the file?'

‘It was a coincidence. I found it three months ago. I needed information from the very first applications, for the planned renovation of the annexe. I saw it then. And realised.'

‘And you went to Lefort.'

Her voice changed a second time. It became completely hollow. Eerily hollow.

‘He laughed. He said I could never prove it. And he was right about that.'

Dupin was silent. They had arrived at the rocks.

And how did you know about Le Menn?'

‘Lefort told him. That I suspected it. Le Menn came to me. And he – he told me everything,' she replied much more quietly and calmly. ‘You have to look for cracks in the rocks, deep, narrow cracks in the pools. You only see a small section of the mussel, a tiny little bit, if at all, and it's the exact colour of the rocks. Rusty. You…'

‘Monsieur le Commissaire? Hello?'

It was Riwal. He was racing towards them and had called out from far away. It looked funny, the inspector charging at them and extremely agitated. A very bad moment to choose.

‘Sorry! I need to speak to you, Monsieur le Commissaire!'

Dupin walked to meet him. In the darkest of moods.

‘Riwal, now is…'

‘Pascal Nuz has confessed. He has confessed to everything.'

Riwal said this sentence still half running, while wheezing and gasping for breath. He only came to a stop just in front of Dupin.

‘Pascal Nuz did what?'

‘Confessed to the murders. That it was him who put the sedative into the drinks. That he met Le Menn on the island yesterday, forced him onto his boat at gunpoint and finally, two or three nautical miles to the south of the archipelago, forced him to go overboard. He…' Riwal paused to inhale again deeply, he was still out of breath, ‘he also said why. He wanted to avenge his son. The –
murder of his son,
' Riwal supported himself with his right hand on his hip, ‘he is claiming Lefort and Konan killed his son.'

Dupin lowered his head. He was overcome by dizziness again.

He walked towards the waterline. Riwal didn't follow him. Dupin only stopped just before the gently lapping waves. The water was incredibly clear. Crystal clear. You could see every little stone and every mussel, pin-sharp on the gleaming white seabed.

Dupin didn't believe what he'd just heard. That wasn't how the story went. He stood there absolutely motionless for a moment. Then he walked back to Riwal. Riwal stood forlornly in the sand, looking at his shoes and smoking. He had in fact given up smoking for good six months ago. Solenn Nuz had simply kept walking and was now fishing in the cracks in the rocks.

‘Was Le Coz able to verify Solenn Nuz's stated timings?'

‘Yes. We've been trying to call you the whole time. Everything checks out. To the minute. As far as we could verify it in any case. And we have the phone records for Le Menn's phone calls now, which was not very easy. He spoke to the
Quatre Vents
twice yesterday, the bar has a business mobile, for reservations and things. He was called once, he called there once. Once at quarter past ten and once at eleven o'clock.'

So Solenn Nuz had in fact not been on Brilimec. Even though there was still some haziness surrounding the timing with all of the verified statements, it couldn't make a difference of three quarters of an hour or more.
She
hadn't been on Brilimec;
she
hadn't met Le Menn. And she couldn't have made or taken any calls from the
Quatre Vents
yesterday morning.

‘The thing on the island, that really was Pascal Nuz,' Dupin said to himself.

‘He still had a gun from before. From the Résistance. His own gun. That he fought with,' Riwal was visibly in turmoil. ‘It was also him who called you about
Medimare
yesterday morning with a disguised voice, to put you on the wrong track.'

‘And Pajot? What about Pajot?'

‘He didn't want that. He didn't know that the three of them were out together. He has said many times that he didn't want that.'

Riwal sounded as though he wanted to defend him.

‘And how did he do it with the sedatives? Is it plausible, what he's saying?'

‘Ten tablets, dissolved in red wine. He showed us the tablet packet.'

All of it fit, it was true, but somehow it sounded too slick.

‘And he simply came to you just now? Just like that?'

‘Yes, a few minutes after you left,' Riwal spoke in a serious voice, ‘you actually ought to have bumped into him on the path. He said you'd have known everything soon anyway.'

Dupin wanted to reply but couldn't. He couldn't speak any more. He had been gripped by a profound sadness. Everything, everything about this story was tragic.

He had never been in a situation like this before. He knew it hadn't happened like that. But he didn't know what to do. Or even what he was capable of doing anyway. And: above all he didn't know what he
wanted
to do.
Whether
he even wanted to do something.

Riwal had turned around and was walking slowly, still smoking and somewhat stooped, up the flat beach. Back towards the
Quatre Vents.

Dupin had no idea how long he had just stood there. Finally, he looked towards the rocks. He saw Solenn Nuz. She was standing very straight, seeming to be balancing. He set off. She had already climbed along a significant portion of the steep rocky landscape and was getting close to the sand on the other side again. Dupin thought it over, walked up the beach to the end of the rocks and went around the stony area.

They stood about five metres apart. Solenn Nuz only saw him at the last minute, she had been entirely focussed on the ormeaux and her footing.

‘Not great pickings today. Five pieces.'

‘Your father-in-law has spoken to us. He has…' Dupin hesitated, ‘he has told us everything.'

Solenn Nuz looked up, calmly. She looked Dupin hard and piercingly in the eye. He couldn't interpret her gaze. Then she lowered her head. She was still two or three steps away from the sand. She was silent. As was Dupin. She walked over to him and stood still, the baskets over her shoulders, the shovel in her right hand. All at once she seemed lost in her thoughts, as though she had forgotten that the Commissaire was standing next to her. With a calm movement, she turned her head toward the sea. She looked far into the distance. Dupin observed her the whole time. Looking at her from the side. He couldn't detect a thing.

Solenn Nuz stood like this for a while. Motionless. Then she turned around, without haste and began to walk up the beach. Dupin walked along beside her. They walked slowly, but steadily. With precise steps.

Once they had almost reached the end of the beach, the place where the marram grass began, Dupin knew that he had made a decision. He had already made up his mind just now. Once he hadunderstood the whole story. He just hadn't been aware of it yet.

‘We know what happened. We know the whole story, Madame Nuz,' he broke off for a moment and made an effort to make his voice strong and definitive, ‘for us, the case is solved.'

Dupin hadn't looked at her as he said this.

‘The police know everything they need to know.'

Solenn Nuz didn't respond. They had reached the wooden stairs and were climbing the steps side by side. They had almost arrived at the
Quatre Vents.

‘You'll surely want to speak to your father-in-law.'

‘Yes. I do.'

A little later, they reached the terrace. Riwal and Le Coz were standing in front of the entrance to the
Quatre Vents.
Even Le Coz was smoking now.

‘Pascal Nuz is sitting in the bar. We've sent all the customers away. Louann Nuz went home. He is alone. He wanted to be alone.'

Riwal sounded uncertain, in a very odd way.

He hastened to add:

‘We have recovered the gun. Le Coz took it from the house, along with Pascal. It was in his room, in a small box.'

‘Madame Nuz wants to speak to her father-in-law. We will leave the two of them alone for a few moments.'

Solenn Nuz disappeared into the bar and closed the door behind her.

Le Coz had approached from the side. Now all three were standing very close together. For once it didn't bother Dupin. None of them knew what to say. It wasn't even an embarrassed silence. Not a void either. Each had fixed their gaze on something else.

They stood like this for a while.

‘The case is solved.'

Dupin spoke clearly and carefully. It seemed like a signal to return to the reality which they had lost touch with for a short time.

‘I'll let the pilot know, Monsieur le Commissaire.'

Le Coz got out his mobile.

‘I'll inform Inspector Kadeg,' Riwal seemed happy to have something specific to do. ‘And Kireg Goulch. The treasure hunt is over.'

Both police officers were walking in different directions and already had their phones to their ears. Dupin remained alone.

He sat down. Not at the ‘operations table', but where he'd sat that first time on Monday, right at the wall. Where he had eaten the lobster. When he still thought he was dealing with a boating accident. With an accident that his inspectors and the resourceful Kireg Goulch would quickly solve.

He looked over the quay and out to sea. That spectacular spherical light lay over everything again. He would have to call Nolwenn. Above all, he would have to call the Prefect. Dupin hated all calls with him on principle, the ones during the normal ‘working day', the ones during a case, but most of all he hated the calls
after
solving a case. But it was different now, after this case it was important that
he
was the one to talk to him at length first.

Riwal came back.

‘Kadeg is up to speed. He was somewhat miffed that in the end he was, how should I put this, so far away from the action.'

Dupin could well imagine that.

‘Call him again and tell him I'd like him to nail the mayor and the Director of the institute. That under no circumstances is he to let up, in either case. And that I will personally advise the Prefect of this.'

‘Absolutely.'

There was understanding in Riwal's voice.

Le Coz was back too.

‘I need to make a few long phone calls. You two wait here. Madame Nuz stays alone with her father-in-law until the helicopter is there.'

Dupin stood up.

*   *   *

Lost in thought, Dupin walked to the left this time. Between the old farmhouse, the sailing school and the oyster restaurant with the two pools beside it, past the big wall, with its surreal penguin. Further towards Bananec in the direction of the sandbank.

The events were swirling around in his head. The controversial story, the whole case.

He came to a stop. He had already been walking for a while and now found himself on the narrowest strip of the sandbank. The water had risen somewhat by now, flat turquoise lagoons glittered to his right and left, then it nothing but sea, endlessly, until the horizon. Saint-Nicolas behind him, Bananec in front of him. He got out his phone. Sixteen missed calls. Since his conversation with Solenn Nuz. Sixteen.

He dialled Nolwenn's number.

‘Monsieur le Commissaire?'

Dupin thought about how to begin. He was finding it difficult.

‘I'm up to speed. About the big picture. Inspector Riwal informed me.'

Dupin was glad. He hated these summaries. Especially in this case.

‘It's all so – tragic.'

Dupin could hear that she suspected something.

‘It is, Nolwenn. Tragic.'

‘Poor Solenn Nuz. Unbelievable.'

Dupin briefly considered saying something more. But he didn't feel capable of it.

‘You can tell me the details this afternoon or another time, Monsieur le Commissaire. You should just call the Prefect. He's trying every five minutes.'

Yes, he'd do that now. There was a small pause.

‘All right, Nolwenn.'

‘All right, Monsieur le Commissaire.'