at manipulation. He may have been there as a confidant of the Russian, or as a police officer. There was no way of knowing. And throughout his conversation with Patrick, there had been no mention of the black pearl.
Patrick took out his mobile and made a call to the number written on Leon’s calendar. It rang for a few moments before a woman’s voice answered, giving the name of a yacht catering business in the Rue Félix Faure.
‘I’m trying to locate the whereabouts of Leon Aubert,’ Patrick said.
‘Monsieur Aubert no longer works for us,’ she said sharply before putting the phone down.
Patrick then tried Camille’s number, but it rang out unanswered, before switching to voicemail. He left a message asking her to call him, saying it was urgent.
His next move must be to find Oscar. Oscar would have allowed Marie Elise to board
Les Trois Soeurs
, Patrick was certain of that. But what about her killer?
His brain constructed a possible scenario.
Marie Elise arriving, perhaps to tell him something she’d found out about Angele’s disappearance. Oscar happy to see her. As she waited, someone else arrived. If Marie Elise had known and welcomed her assailant, Oscar would have allowed him on board. Alternatively the assailant could have boarded undetected, perhaps the way he himself had escaped.
And how did her dinner companion figure in all of this?
Somehow Patrick couldn’t see Marie Elise taking a bath while awaiting his arrival. Their relationship hadn’t got anywhere near that stage. So whoever killed her must have stripped her naked and put her in the bath to implicate him in her death. But where was Oscar when all this had happened?
Patrick paid for his coffee and headed back to the Chanteclair.
The delegates had all departed to deal movies for the day, leaving Pascal and his partner, Preben, to breakfast in the courtyard by themselves. Patrick joined them.
‘Well?’ Preben asked, worried. ‘Who was it?’
Patrick saw no reason not to tell them. ‘Marie Elise.’
‘Brigitte’s Marie Elise?’ Pascal’s eyes opened wide and he put his hand to his mouth in shock. ‘Poor Marie. Who would do such a thing?’ Pascal’s eyes glistened with tears as Preben put a hand on his arm to comfort him.
‘I have no idea, but I intend finding out.’ The steely coldness of Patrick’s reply appeared to worry Pascal even further. Sensing this, Patrick changed tack. ‘I need you to find Oscar for me.’ He watched as Pascal’s fear transferred to the dog. ‘I left him on board when I went out,’ Patrick explained. ‘I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Oh my God. He was there when …’ Pascal contemplated what may have happened to the dog. ‘
Le pauvre petit chien.
’
Oscar’s fan club wasn’t just restricted to Moreaux and Marie Elise. If Patrick put the word out that the dog was missing, a search party would be formed. Pascal said as much.
‘Leave Oscar to us,’ he announced. ‘You find who did this to Marie.’
Departing the quiet of the courtyard, Patrick headed for Le P’tit Zinc. Being almost lunchtime, he was hopeful that Chevalier would be having his aperitif. He hadn’t heard from his friend all morning, although, judging by the excitement caused by the police presence on the
quai
, he couldn’t conceive of Chevalier being ignorant of what had happened aboard
Les Trois Soeurs.
Having suggested Patrick involve Marie Elise in his search for Angele, Chevalier would have taken the news of her death personally.
Yet Patrick had not had a call from his friend.
Chevalier’s usual table was empty with no reserved sign on it. It seemed he wasn’t expected. Veronique came rushing out at the sight of Patrick and proceeded in rapid French to question him about Marie’s murder. When he insisted he knew nothing, she dispensed with him with a wave of her hand. He thought he also caught a reference to ‘a stupid goat’ in her final retort.
His next port of call was Chevalier’s agency. A
Patrick took out his mobile and made a call to the number written on Leon’s calendar. It rang for a few moments before a woman’s voice answered, giving the name of a yacht catering business in the Rue Félix Faure.
‘I’m trying to locate the whereabouts of Leon Aubert,’ Patrick said.
‘Monsieur Aubert no longer works for us,’ she said sharply before putting the phone down.
Patrick then tried Camille’s number, but it rang out unanswered, before switching to voicemail. He left a message asking her to call him, saying it was urgent.
His next move must be to find Oscar. Oscar would have allowed Marie Elise to board
Les Trois Soeurs
, Patrick was certain of that. But what about her killer?
His brain constructed a possible scenario.
Marie Elise arriving, perhaps to tell him something she’d found out about Angele’s disappearance. Oscar happy to see her. As she waited, someone else arrived. If Marie Elise had known and welcomed her assailant, Oscar would have allowed him on board. Alternatively the assailant could have boarded undetected, perhaps the way he himself had escaped.
And how did her dinner companion figure in all of this?
Somehow Patrick couldn’t see Marie Elise taking a bath while awaiting his arrival. Their relationship hadn’t got anywhere near that stage. So whoever killed her must have stripped her naked and put her in the bath to implicate him in her death. But where was Oscar when all this had happened?
Patrick paid for his coffee and headed back to the Chanteclair.
The delegates had all departed to deal movies for the day, leaving Pascal and his partner, Preben, to breakfast in the courtyard by themselves. Patrick joined them.
‘Well?’ Preben asked, worried. ‘Who was it?’
Patrick saw no reason not to tell them. ‘Marie Elise.’
‘Brigitte’s Marie Elise?’ Pascal’s eyes opened wide and he put his hand to his mouth in shock. ‘Poor Marie. Who would do such a thing?’ Pascal’s eyes glistened with tears as Preben put a hand on his arm to comfort him.
‘I have no idea, but I intend finding out.’ The steely coldness of Patrick’s reply appeared to worry Pascal even further. Sensing this, Patrick changed tack. ‘I need you to find Oscar for me.’ He watched as Pascal’s fear transferred to the dog. ‘I left him on board when I went out,’ Patrick explained. ‘I haven’t seen him since.’
‘Oh my God. He was there when …’ Pascal contemplated what may have happened to the dog. ‘
Le pauvre petit chien.
’
Oscar’s fan club wasn’t just restricted to Moreaux and Marie Elise. If Patrick put the word out that the dog was missing, a search party would be formed. Pascal said as much.
‘Leave Oscar to us,’ he announced. ‘You find who did this to Marie.’
Departing the quiet of the courtyard, Patrick headed for Le P’tit Zinc. Being almost lunchtime, he was hopeful that Chevalier would be having his aperitif. He hadn’t heard from his friend all morning, although, judging by the excitement caused by the police presence on the
quai
, he couldn’t conceive of Chevalier being ignorant of what had happened aboard
Les Trois Soeurs.
Having suggested Patrick involve Marie Elise in his search for Angele, Chevalier would have taken the news of her death personally.
Yet Patrick had not had a call from his friend.
Chevalier’s usual table was empty with no reserved sign on it. It seemed he wasn’t expected. Veronique came rushing out at the sight of Patrick and proceeded in rapid French to question him about Marie’s murder. When he insisted he knew nothing, she dispensed with him with a wave of her hand. He thought he also caught a reference to ‘a stupid goat’ in her final retort.
His next port of call was Chevalier’s agency. A
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