The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(67)



The dog pawed at his waterproof and whimpered to get out. Damiot reached over, opened the door, and watched her jump down, a black shape against the darkness.

He realized that he had forgotten to buy another pocket torch. The other one had never been recovered from that hole in the floor. After meeting the Comte he hadn’t given it another thought…

He hesitated in the darkness at the edge of the courtyard.

Must be careful here! If he fell on these cobbles his hip could be damaged beyond repair.

The best vantage point for whatever was about to happen should be at the edge of the forest, on the eastern side of the courtyard. From there he could watch the terrace where the monster had appeared Friday night.

As he started to turn, he glimpsed a flash of reflected light in the dense shadow at the base of the castle.

Damiot froze.

Something metallic was catching that glow from the sky.

He moved cautiously toward it—whatever it was.

A solid black object took shape as he came closer. Glints of starlight flashed from several surfaces. It was a car…

The black Ferrari!

Damiot rested his open palm on the metal hood, which felt cold and damp. He tried a door but it was locked.

Did the Ferrari belong to somebody in the castle? Someone who drove through the countryside late at night. Through the sleeping village…

Was it the murderer?

The Comte or one of his assistants! Not likely that the Comte could handle such a powerful car.

Better have Bardou check those assistants. But that would give away the fact that the Comte was living here.

No matter! This whole business was getting out of hand. Perhaps he should tell Bardou everything he knew…

Damiot moved carefully on the cobbles as he crossed the corner of the courtyard, followed by Fric-Frac. He could see her black body against the pale cobbles.

Which meant that he too would be visible to anyone watching.

He moved closer to the edge of the forest and stood there, facing west, in a blot of shadow from the trees. This was beyond the cobbled area, and the earth felt soggy underfoot.

No lights in the castle or glow of lanterns from the drive.

“We’ll have a short wait, Madame. I hope that you too had a nap this afternoon.” He glanced back into the darkness where the Ferrari was parked.

What if it belonged to an outsider? Someone from a nearby city who had murdered those two girls and then started the story about the monster. Did he come here to watch the Comte’s monster and laugh at the gullible villagers then speed away in his Ferrari?

Was he lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting for what was about to happen? Watching…

“Watching me!” he muttered.

Glancing down, he saw that Fric-Frac had stretched out on the wet grass. “Don’t catch cold, Madame. Why do dogs like to get wet? Can you tell me that?” He smiled, remembering the dog he had owned so long ago. “I used to have one that sat in every puddle!”

Fric-Frac growled, softly.

A faint glow of light that seemed to float between the rows of poplars was moving up the distant entrance drive.

“Good girl!” He saw that she was on her feet, ears back, nose pointing toward the drive.

When he looked again toward the moving light, he was able to make out a small group of men beyond the near row of trees, carrying a lantern toward the courtyard.

Would Sibilat be among them? The first to enter! He was certainly muscular enough to scramble over those gates or climb the wall.

Fric-Frac continued to growl.

The intruders were curiously threatening because as yet they had made no sound. It was like watching a silent film…

He glanced up at the Chateau but all the windows remained dark.

Nick would be preparing his monster with Pouchet’s help, getting ready to make an appearance. And Tendrell was probably stationed at one of those dark windows, telling them what was happening below.

Damiot looked toward the drive again and saw that the villagers had reached the lower edge of the courtyard. They had paused, facing the castle and looking up at the terrace, no doubt deciding on their next move. The single lantern made a timid circle of light.

The dog growled, menacingly. Damiot saw that she was pointing back, toward the side of the Chateau where he had parked the Peugeot.

Someone there? He hadn’t heard a sound…

A faceless gray figure appeared out of the night. Damiot recognized the walk and the blur of silver hair. “Monsieur Tendrell!”

“We heard your car arrive.”

“And I thought I was being quiet!”

“There are microphones everywhere, to pick up every sound.” He lowered his voice as he came closer. “Nick wants you with us, so you’ll be able to see everything.”

“Splendid!”

“I drove without lights and parked near your car.” He turned back, Damiot walking beside him. “Knew you wouldn’t have gone far.”

“Come, Fric-Frac!”

“You’ve brought Aurore’s dog again?”

“Thought she’d be company while I waited. What time does the performance start?”

“Any moment, I should think.” He glanced toward the drive as they left the courtyard, keeping in the deep shadow at the edge of the forest. “A few of the villagers have already come up the drive and more are gathered outside the gates. We’ve been eavesdropping on them through microphones hidden in the shrubbery. Takes them an hour to get enough courage to climb over that wall.”

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