The Provence Puzzle: An Inspector Damiot Mystery(69)

“Lead the way.” Nick pressed the small device in his lap, revolving the wheelchair. “The rest of us will follow.”

“Yes, M’sieur.” Pouchet carried the awkward figure, raised like a banner, toward an open wall panel that was barely visible in a dark corner. Madame Léontine trailed behind, clutching the heavy cloak in both arms.

Nick sent his wheelchair rolling after them. “Messieurs!” Damiot and the Englishman followed, both dogs racing ahead, through a seemingly endless stone corridor with electric bulbs embedded in the ceiling. The musty dampness Damiot had noticed earlier must have come from here.

“This is a secret passage,” Nick called back over his shoulder. “The castle’s riddled with them and I know every one! I would hide for hours when grand-mère wanted to lecture me for some prank, and even the servants couldn’t find me! Unfortunately, most of these passages are too narrow for my wheelchair.” Damiot thought, as the Comte explained, that he was still a child, with his secret passages and his monster. Playing this infantile trick on the villagers. “Monsieur le Comte? Nick…”

“Yes, Monsieur Inspecteur?”

“I would suggest that you should not show your monster tonight.”

“And why not?”

“Anything might happen. The villagers have been roused to a pitch of excitement that could result in an explosion.”

“But it wasn’t I who began it! Someone in the village started the rumor of a monster. Not I! The psychiatrists say there are monsters hidden in every man. Lurking beneath the surface and waiting to appear. So I have given the villagers their own monster. Is it illegal, what I’m doing? Am I breaking any law?”

“Nothing like that. But it could be dangerous.”

“I enjoy danger!”

“After tonight I hope you will never show your monster again.”

Nick glanced back over his shoulder. “Is this official?”

“Certainly not. I’m asking you to destroy the monster for the sake of the villagers. So that peace can return to Courville. People will be able to sleep nights.”

“In that case…” He shrugged. “After tonight the villagers will have to find their entertainment elsewhere.”

“Good!” Tendrell exclaimed. “I’ve been trying for weeks to persuade him to stop.”

“You get your wish, Allan!” Nick laughed. “Chief Inspector Damiot was more persuasive.” Raising his voice. “You hear, Pouchet? After tonight we get rid of our handsome monster!”

“Yes, M’sieur le Comte. I heard.”

“And a good thing!” Madame Léontine glanced back toward Damiot.

Pouchet swung a door open. Raising the monster higher, he led the procession into a large, empty salon where a lighted lantern rested on the marble floor.

Once again, Lautrec and Fric-Frac ran ahead.

As Damiot followed the wheelchair, he saw that this was the large salon he had entered Saturday afternoon after inspecting the corner of the terrace where the monster had appeared Friday night.

Tonight the heavy curtains had been drawn over all the windows. The dogs were playing games, running and leaping.

“I hope I didn’t startle you last night, Monsieur Inspecteur…”

“Startle me?” He faced the Comte.

“When you were parked in the Square and I appeared in my Ferrari.”

“So that was you!”

“I decided after you and Allan left that I would enjoy some fresh air. I frequently do that, late at night, after the village is asleep. Drive south for a breath of the sea. Last night I went to Monte Carlo and back.”

So the Comte could drive the Ferrari! Drive anywhere!

“You’re wondering how I handle such a powerful car? I’ve redesigned the steering equipment so that my miserable legs can manage everything. A new engineering technique that will one day be on the market for every make of car…”

“That Ferrari is his other toy!” Tendrell exclaimed.

“Like my father, I have a passion for fast cars.”

Damiot saw that Pouchet was carrying the puppet figure toward a pair of curtained windows near the west corner.

Nick laughed. “Pouchet lifts my monster like a holy monstrance! Did you know, mes amis, in early times the word monster meant a divine omen?”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Tendrell answered.

The Comte halted his wheelchair beside Pouchet, who had leaned the puppet against the wall, near the windows. Madame Léontine began to straighten the folds of its cloak. “Monsieur Damiot! Why don’t you and Allan stand outside those far windows?” He motioned toward the other end of the salon. “You’ll be invisible from below if you keep close to the wall, but you should be able to observe everything.”

“Come along, Inspector!” Tendrell headed across the salon. “I’ve done this before.”

Damiot hesitated. “What about the dogs?”

“They can run outside,” Nick replied. “Nobody will notice them in the dark.” He reached under an arm of his wheelchair. “I forgot the bell!” He snapped a lever, and the castle vibrated as the great bell began to toll.

Both dogs howled.

Nick grinned impishly. “Our play begins…”