The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(62)
“Yes…”
“Where can I find him?”
She frowned. “You’re not going to question Achille!”
“Nothing official. That’s why I’ve come to you first. I don’t want anyone in the village to know I’m seeing him.”
“You’ll be kind to Achille?”
“Kind?”
“He’s such an innocent! Clara says he was a virgin when he first came here and she had to teach him everything. Achille was only seventeen! Until he met the Jarlaud girl he saw Clara every Saturday night. Then he stopped. Clara knew he was going with Lisette. Word gets around! But after she was murdered—the very next Saturday—Achille was back here, asking for Clara.”
“You think he might have killed Lisette Jarlaud?”
“Achille wouldn’t harm anyone. Believe me, he had nothing to do with Lisette’s murder.”
“Where will I find him?”
“His father has a farm. On the left side of the road, driving south, before you get to the main highway. Achille took us there last year—Clara and me—for a picnic. Such food!”
“What’s happening in the village? I hear they’re planning another visit to the Chateau tonight.”
“The women are stirring the men up to do something about that monster.” Her fingers clutched the sleeve of his waterproof. “Is there a monster up there? Killing people…”
“Whoever murdered those two girls is certainly a psychopath, but there’s no monster at the Chateau. I can assure you of that.”
“The villagers held a meeting last night in the schoolhouse. Some of the women made such a fuss that the men have agreed to catch the monster and destroy it.”
“And the women? Will they go with them?”
“They’ll wait ’til the men come home, and scream at them if they haven’t caught whatever it is. None of them will set foot outside after dark, but even a monster wouldn’t touch such crows!” She released his sleeve. “Most of their husbands come here. So business hasn’t been good since the Jarlaud girl died. The men stay home nights if it rains, and go up to the Chateau when the weather’s clear.”
“I won’t keep you any longer.” He moved toward the hall.
She followed him out of the salon. “There’s going to be another murder tonight.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Today’s Monday, and both those girls were killed on Monday night.”
“Were they? Nobody’s mentioned that before.”
“I remember because Michel comes here Monday nights.”
“Michel Giroud?”
“He was with me when both those girls were murdered. That’s how I know it was Monday.” She opened the front door.
“I’ve been thinking about the murders this morning, because Michel phoned to say he’d be here tonight. Soon as he can get away from the restaurant. He pays for the whole evening, so I don’t see anyone else. Michel likes to relax after he finishes work. At least two or three hours…”
As Damiot stepped out into the late morning sunlight, he noticed a truck parked across the street. There was a small sign on its side. “Has Giroud ever mentioned going to the Chateau with the villagers?”
“Michel wouldn’t get involved with that. He laughs at them. Although he too thinks there’s a monster up there!” She hesitated. “You won’t be hard on Achille Savord?”
“If you say so…”
“I promise you, he had nothing to do with the murders.”
“One last thing… Do you know anyone who owns a black Ferrari?”
“In Courville? You must be joking!”
“Hope I haven’t kept you away too long from Monsieur Sibilat…”
“You know everything, don’t you?” She giggled as she glanced toward the parked truck. “He can wait.”
“You didn’t tell him I was here?”
“I don’t tell him anything!” Her second giggle followed him as he headed back toward the square where he had left his car.
So both those girls were killed on a Monday night! Was that, like so many other things, only a coincidence?
And Marc Sibilat was waiting for Blanche! Morning was probably the only time he could escape from his mother. Now, there was a real monster!
Damiot got into the Peugeot, backed away from the silent fountain, and eased into the commercial traffic moving south on the avenue.
Marc Sibilat with Blanche. Why not pay an unexpected visit to his mother?
He slowed the Peugeot to a stop close to the cemetery wall, across from the florist shop, noticing fresh red roses in the display window.
Moving cautiously between the rumbling trucks, he crossed the avenue and opened the door. Heard the bell respond in the rear.
The air was chilly inside, after the hot sunshine.
He had a sudden idea as he reached the counter. He would buy some flowers for…
“Ah, Monsieur Inspecteur!”
Damiot was smiling, amused by his idea, as he saw the formidable black figure appear from the curtained passage. “Madame…”
“My son’s not here.” She faced him across the counter. “He always drives to Grasse, Monday mornings, to buy flowers. Takes him hours to select them for our shop.”