The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(59)

“So she didn’t need money!”

“People always need more money.” The ash fell from his cigarette, unnoticed, to the tiled floor. “When I reported this on the phone to the Commissaire, he congratulated me for identifying the Deffous girl. Only I wasn’t able to explain exactly how I did it.”

“Don’t try! Tell him you used your powers of deduction. He won’t care how you did it, if you find the murderer for him.”

“But, M’sieur!” He ejected a spurt of gray smoke from between his lips. “I’ve no idea who the murderer is.”

“Neither do I.” Damiot put his hat on and snatched the waterproof from a chair. “I’ll walk out with you. Why didn’t this woman who takes care of the child report Deffous was missing?”

“She was afraid to. Although she hadn’t been paid for two months. What will you be doing today, M’sieur Damiot?”

“Thought I’d drive through the hills again.” He opened the door and motioned Bardou ahead. “Driving a car relaxes me. The hip isn’t as painful as it was when I arrived last week. In fact, this morning I barely feel it.” He closed the door, checking that it had locked, and followed Bardou through the corridor. “Where’s your car?”

“Parked in front. I have to stop by the gendarmerie. The Commissaire wants another little chat…”

“You didn’t tell him you were seeing me?” Dropping his key on the desk as they crossed the foyer.

“Certainly not! I wouldn’t do that… When I get a license number from Toulon for the Deffous girl’s car, I’m having it sent to every gendarmerie in Provence.”

“That should get results.” Damiot swung open the entrance door and went down the steps after Bardou into bright sunshine. “My car’s in the back, so I’ll leave you here.”

“They told me, when I phoned in, that the villagers are talking about going up to the Chateau tonight if the weather’s clear. More of them than usual.” He tossed his stub of cigarette away. “They plan to catch the monster this time.”

“Will the police be there?”

“The Commissaire wants no part of such nonsense. There’s no monster, M’sieur Inspecteur! You and I both know that…”

“Give me a call if you learn anything more from Toulon.” Damiot continued around the side of the Auberge, toward the parking area. As he passed the windows of the restaurant he heard Bardou’s motor sputter before it chugged off.

So the villagers were returning to the Chateau tonight to catch the monster. And the Comte planned to give them another performance…

“No, Madame! Stay where you are.” Aurore’s voice. “No! No…”

He saw that she was bathing Fric-Frac in a small wooden tub on a bench near the kitchen door. The dog was covered with suds. Her owner, wearing dungarees and a man’s shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, was scrubbing Fric-Frac with a brush. Aurore’s hair, piled on top of her head, looked more auburn than bronze in the sunlight.

The silver Mercedes that had been parked here last night was gone. So the visitors had departed.

“Poor Madame la Duchesse!”

“With all this sunshine, I decided to give her a bath. She’s very unhappy at the moment, but after I’ve finished she’ll race around, barking and capering like a mad creature.” She glanced up from her scrubbing again and smiled.

“Any day that begins with apricot preserves like yours promises to be a memorable one.”

“They are served only to special guests. Those who, I hope, will return…” Looking into his eyes. “Especially you, Monsieur.”

“You’re very kind.” He saw that Fric-Frac was rolling her eyes, trying to attract his attention, as she wiggled in the scented suds. “She even smells like a duchess!”

“That’s my most expensive bath oil.” Picking up a pitcher and pouring more water over Fric-Frac’s back as she squirmed to escape. “Be good! We’re almost finished.”

“Did your visitors enjoy their dinner?”

“They were delighted! With what they ate and with everything else.”

“And your chef?”

“Michel joined us in the lounge after the restaurant closed. Everything was discussed and decided. They will have contracts for him when they return next month. He’s to be in complete charge of the kitchen for the Relais Julien. I, naturally, am delighted.”

“Then you will be selling the Auberge?”

“I might never have such an opportunity again. It would be disastrous for me to try and compete with their elegant new hotel.”

He glanced up at the rear of the building. “So it’s to be torn down…”

“Not for at least a year. Eventually this may be a parking lot for the new hotel. Meanwhile, with Michel’s help, I’ll keep the Auberge open through the summer.” She picked up a towel, spread it on the bench, and began to rub the dog dry. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to keep Fric-Frac while I’m getting the new restaurant organized.”

“Won’t they allow you to own a dog?”

“They don’t know I have one. It wouldn’t be fair to Fric-Frac. I will have no time for her—to give her the affection she needs and expects. She was always Julien’s dog. Never really mine…” She continued to towel Fric-Frac. “I’ve always suspected she’s a man’s dog.”