The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(41)

“In that case, nothing can happen to you. On the other hand, if you did kill her, someone will eventually find out.”

“Then I’ve nothing to worry about! Except I’d better get home before my mother becomes suspicious. I’ll say that you questioned me but there was nothing I could tell you.”

“Did you see what sort of car this Deffous girl was driving when she came to your shop?”

“Yes. It was a gray Dauphine. An old model…”

“Au ’voir, Monsieur.” Damiot held out his hand.

Sibilat appeared to be surprised by the gesture. “Merci, Monsieur Inspecteur.” He shook Damiot’s hand and hurried down the path.

So Sibilat had known both those girls. Annie Deffous and Lisette Jarlaud.

Florists worked with sharp knives, and Sibilat had studied for several years to be a doctor. A surgeon…

These seemingly weak types, dominated by women—mother or wife—frequently exploded with sudden violence. Even murder…





CHAPTER 14


“Graudin speaking…”

“Wasn’t sure you’d be home, Sunday morning.”

“M’sieur Inspecteur! You’re back in Paris?”

“I’m still in Courville.” He heard small children screaming in the background as Graudin talked. “I was calling to ask…”

“How’s the hip, M’sieur? Feeling better?”

“Seems to be healing. I’ve been giving it plenty of exercise. I’m staying at the Auberge Courville.”

“Auberge Courville… I’m writing that down.”

“It’s a new place. Some people have taken over the building where my parents had their restaurant. The house where I was born! There’s a phone, if anyone wants me. Don’t know the number. I’m calling to find out if anything’s developed with those two cases I was working on before I went to that damn hospital…”

“Everybody at the Prefecture is talking about you!”

“What?”

“The Chief announced at some meeting yesterday that you’re investigating two murders there.”

“Merde! How the devil could he…”

“He told them that when they take vacations they do nothing but eat and sleep. Always come back to work overweight. But not Chief Inspector Damiot. He gets involved with two murder cases and…”

“I am not investigating any murders! You can tell that to anybody who asks. Including the Chief! Tell them I’m going to stay here—eating and sleeping—for another two weeks!” He slammed the phone down and, still furious, turned away from the public phone in the lobby of the H?tel Courville.

As he stalked toward the desk, he realized that he had learned nothing from Graudin about the two Paris investigations!

A man was typing behind the registration desk.

“Inspector Bardou’s room?”

“Room seventeen. Second floor, rear…”

The upstairs corridor smelled of bad plumbing and ancient dust.

Climbing the stairs hadn’t bothered his hip. So he must be improving! In fact, this morning he was feeling much better in every way. Perhaps it was because of what had happened, last night, with Aurore…

He found number seventeen and knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” Bardou’s voice was muffled.

“Damiot!”

There was a shuffling sound from inside before the door opened.

“M’sieur Inspecteur! I was in bed.”

“Good.” He saw that Bardou was wearing wrinkled cotton pajamas, his feet bare. “How’s your cold?”

“Much worse…” He headed back toward his rumpled bed.

Damiot closed the door. “Didn’t that toddy help any?”

“Nothing has helped.” He collapsed onto the side of the bed. “Don’t get close to me, you’ll catch my cold. Sit over there.” Motioning to the only chair that wasn’t piled with clothing.

“I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.” Damiot realized that he was still seething with rage over his call to Paris. Mustn’t get angry with Bardou. The man looked miserable. “I must warn you again, I’ve no intention of getting involved with the local police. In any way!”

“I understand that, M’sieur Inspecteur.” He lighted a Gauloise as he talked. “I’ve told everybody you’re here on vacation…”

So he had reported his presence to whoever was in charge at the gendarmerie! Damiot restrained his fury.

“They already knew you were in Courville.”

“Did they?”

“Seems they checked with Paris when they realized you were the famous Chief Inspector Damiot.”

“Merde!”

“They thought you’d been sent to solve the two murders, but Paris informed them you’re here for a rest.”

“Exactly what I told you yesterday!” Damiot moved about in the cramped space, avoiding furniture. “But I do have one or two ideas about those girls who were murdered, and I’ve come across several bits of information. I’m going to look into them because of my professional curiosity about all crimes, but whatever I learn I shall turn over to you.”