The Coldest Case, Martin Walker [famous ebook reader txt] 📗

‘He does indeed, but he’s also very active in the AlliancePN,’ she went on, referring to the police trade union. ‘So with all the other entirely justified complaints about all our cops having to do too much overtime and long shifts, he’s been handled with kid gloves for far too long. I’m hoping that’s now over. Prunier tells me that he’s personally outraged by this.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ Bruno turned to Virginie. ‘I came to ask you if you’d like to come back to St Denis with me. You can stay with some friends of mine who have a lovely, welcoming house. She’s our local doctor and he’s a writer and journalist. I’m going to tell everybody what a brilliant job you’ve done on the skull. Our Mayor wants to take you to lunch and you can meet my horse who’s just as handsome as my dog. You deserve a break after all the work you’ve put in, and I hate the thought of you going back to a lonely room in an empty student hostel.’

‘Bruno is known to be a gifted chef,’ Gouppilleau said, smiling as Bruno looked at her in surprise. ‘Your colleague Juliette in Les Eyzies told me about your cooking,’ she went on. ‘You’d be surprised at the breadth of our intelligence network. In this job, we women have to stick together.’

‘Bruno,’ said Virginie. ‘Did you mean it, the message you left on my phone, about my skull?’

‘It’s even better than I’d hoped,’ he said. ‘We put together a composite photo from various partial snapshots and you’ve got Max to perfection.’

‘But I don’t think I’ve got the hair right.’

‘There’s no reason why you should. You warned us about that, remember? Anyway, it looks like you’re part of what’s turned out to be a much bigger case. I can’t go into details now because national security is involved but I think someday they’ll be making TV shows about this case – and you could play yourself! I’m just so sorry that it involved this dreadful assault.’

‘It was all over very fast once you turned up. And yes, I’d love to come down to St Denis and have a bit of a break. I’ve been working almost non-stop.’

‘Your work has paid off, Virginie, believe me. Now, would you like me to take you back to the hostel and get a change of clothes?’

‘I wish I got invitations like that,’ said Gouppilleau. ‘We have another mutual friend in Yveline, the gendarme commandante, and she says St Denis is the best posting she’s ever had. She too says you’re a good cook.’

‘We like Yveline too,’ said Bruno, wondering why he’d never before noticed that his women colleagues, whether gendarmes, Police Nationale or municipal, would naturally have their own networks and friendships. He had his own wide range of connections, male and female, from sports and hunting clubs to the regional archaeological society. He saw them as a real asset, not only in human, friendly terms but in the way people could share skills, tips and local knowledge.

‘I’d really like to have a bit of a break and get away from Périgueux for a day or so,’ Virginie said. ‘But I wouldn’t want to be in your way. I know you have work to do.’

‘I thought you might like to see Elisabeth’s exhibition at the museum in Les Eyzies, which led to your coming down here,’ he said. ‘Then you might like to meet a colleague of mine, the town policewoman and some other friends. I was on fire watch last night so I’ll be spared that tonight and I’ll have time to cook.’

‘I’m a vegan,’ Virginie said. ‘I hope that won’t be a problem.’

Bruno remembered the welcome gift of foie gras he’d given her and strove manfully to keep his expression unchanged. ‘That means no butter, eggs or cheese, is that right?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral and wondering what she had done with the foie gras and cheese he’d given her. ‘And no cooking with duck fat.’

Virginie nodded cheerfully and said, ‘I don’t mind watching other people eat meat and stuff. I used to eat it myself. And I don’t do without butter. You can buy it made from soya milk, sunflower oil, salt and lemon juice. I even make my own vegan pastry. I could show you how to prepare it, if you like.’

Twenty minutes later, after a brief call to J-J who was still at the hospital with Baldin, and another to Gilles to say he’d be bringing Virginie, they arrived at the student hostel, where she packed a small bag and they set off for St Denis. Balzac was in the back of the van and the reconstituted skull of Max had been carefully packed in a hat box that was at Virginie’s feet. Gilles and Fabiola now occupied a house that Bruno knew well. It had been Pamela’s home when he’d first known her, before she and Miranda had taken over the riding school. Gilles came out from his study when he heard Bruno’s van, shook hands with Virginie, and showed her to the spare room to leave her bag.

‘What happened to her face?’ Gilles asked when he and Bruno were alone. Bruno explained, briefly, and suggested Gilles not bring it up.

‘OK, but what about dinner?’ Gilles asked.

‘I thought I’d cook, using your kitchen if that’s all right. Virginie’s a vegan so I thought it would be a challenge to make a meal from my vegetables, if you don’t mind being guinea pigs.’

‘No problem for me but Pamela’s coming with the Baron, since you missed the Monday dinner,’ Gilles eyes twinkled. ‘Let’s try an experiment. You prepare a vegan meal and see if the Baron notices. I doubt whether he’s ever had one in his life.’

‘Of course he’ll notice. He loves his meat.’

‘I bet you he doesn’t – a bottle of wine on it.’

‘Done,’ said Bruno.

They had time for a cup of coffee with Gilles before Bruno drove Virginie to the