The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(50)

He snapped on his torch. Better have a look behind that door he had sensed closing.

Fric-Frac bounded ahead and nosed the crack under the door.

Damiot swung it open and stepped inside. Into an empty room he had never seen before. Medium-sized, a row of high windows opposite the door, with a second closed door at one end, white marble fireplace at the other.

As he started toward the closed door there was a distant and surprising sound. A telephone ringing? Faint but unmistakable…

He froze as the sound was repeated.

A telephone in the Chateau? Bardou had said Pouchet didn’t have one.

The sound was not repeated a third time. Somebody had answered it.

If there was a woman living here she would probably insist upon a telephone. Women couldn’t live without one…

Moving again toward the door, he heard a dog barking in the depths of the mansion.

Fric-Frac answered.

Pouchet kept his mastiff chained downstairs in the kitchen, but this sounded closer.

Another barrage of barking.

Fric-Frac responded immediately.

No way to stop her. Would Pouchet hear?

Was the old man’s dog running loose? It would be dangerous to come upon a mastiff in one of these dark corridors. A beast that size could kill a small dog. Snap her neck with one crunch of its jaws…

This was becoming risky. Should he go back the way he had come? He had taken so many turns he wasn’t even certain which wing of the Chateau he was in.

“Merde! We’re lost.”

Reaching the end of the room, Fric-Frac at his side, he opened the door into still another windowless passage. The dog ran ahead again.

The next door opened into a small salon, bare of furniture, with a row of tall, rain-spattered windows.

As Damiot started across the salon, toward more closed doors, there was the faint sound, far away, of a bell tolling.

The same bell that had tolled before the monster appeared!

He opened one of the doors and found himself in a long corridor, with closed doors on both sides. Rain drumming overhead on a row of skylights.

The tolling bell was much more distinct now. As though he were approaching its source.

Which way should he go? Start back the way he had come? He had no idea which direction that might be. What door should he open next?

The bell was much louder. Its deep, metallic clanging seemed to shake the walls. He could feel the vibrations beneath his feet, through the floor.

Fric-Frac howled, her head raised, ears laid back.

This time the other dogs didn’t answer. Or was their barking drowned by the tolling bell?

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the bell was silent.

For a moment his ears continued to hum. Then, gradually, he began to hear the rain again. Splashing against those overhead skylights.

Did the tolling bell mean the monster would appear on the terrace tonight? Surely not in this rain!

There had to be a bell in one of those towers above the castle. But Bardou said he had checked every tower…

Could Bardou be covering up for someone? Was he too involved with this business of the monster? It had to be a hoax!

He kept going, Fric-Frac scampering ahead. All he could do was continue until he came to something familiar. A room remembered from yesterday…

The next door opened into yet another windowless passage, with water dripping from a paneled ceiling and the floor damaged in several places. It would have taken many storms to do so much damage. Must be careful where he stepped…

Far in the distance, probably on the highway, he heard the motor of a speeding car. From the sound it was a commercial truck with a powerful engine.

He continued through another long corridor, with more dripping skylights and a rotted floor, the car sounding much closer.

Coming up that front drive to the Chateau?

The roar of the motor increased, louder and louder, until it seemed to be inside the mansion.

This was impossible!

He glanced down and saw Fric-Frac cowering at his feet. “It’s all right, Madame.” He stooped and picked her up. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.” He tucked her trembling body under his left arm as he went toward the next closed door. Awkwardly changing the torch to his left hand, he gripped the handle and pushed the door open.

As he stepped into the adjoining room, the roar of the engine filled his ears. He reached to take the torch in his right hand again.

The thunder of sound enveloped him as the dog began to squirm and struggle in his arm. Crossing the room, he tried to restrain her.

The torch slipped from his fingers, its beam of light flashing crazily as it rolled across the floor and disappeared through a hole.

Now there was only darkness and the roar of the motor.

Rubber tires screeching. Brakes shrieking…

The black Ferrari?

Damiot took another step forward, cautiously. Then another. Heard rotten wood splinter. Felt the floor collapsing under his foot.

The dog slid out of his arm.

“Fric-Frac!”

There was a sharp flash of pain as his hip twisted.

“Mon Dieu!”

He tried desperately to save himself, but toppled backward. His head struck the floor with a crash that exploded into the roar of the motor…





CHAPTER 17


“Welcome to the Chateau de Mohrt, Monsieur Inspecteur!”

“What?” Damiot struggled up awkwardly from a sofa.