Dead End in the Pyrenees

Chapter 4

Chapter 4My office was always rather cramped, but recently, we've taken over the shop next door so we finally have space for every permanent member of staff to each have their own desk. The original tiny cloakroom with toilet is now for my personal use only, but a larger facility, which was part of the shop, may be used by all staff. When I emerge from my cloakroom after hanging up my coat, Paul, my most senior assistant officer, places a cup of steaming coffee on my desk.

“You're going to need this, Boss,” he says. “The trainee you left at the spa has returned with a list of twenty-three names and he says more client's names may yet need to be added.”

I groan. “Surely we don't need to interview them all? Hasn't he identified the people who had access to the pool area after the spa closed for the evening? I expected him to give me the names of the staff who have keys and the people whose treatment finished late in the day, not the entire list of 'curists' as well. Where is he now?”

“I sent him for lunch,” Paul says. “Laurent has gone over to the spa to try and get the information we actually need. He's not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but at least he knows the right questions to ask. You better sit down and have this with your coffee,” he adds, placing an almond croissant beside the cup. “The sugar will give you strength.”

I stare at him quizzically.

“I took the liberty, Boss,” he explains. “I know how stressed you get when you have to speak to Detective Gerard and he's already been on the phone looking for you.”

I groan again. “How on earth did he find out about this so quickly? Who told him?”

“Nobody, apparently – that is, not until he phoned looking for our monthly stats and Laurent let the cat out of the bag.”

“I thought we emailed him that information two days ago?”

“Apparently not. Laurent accidentally emailed it to our own office instead of Gerard's.”

“How is it that you and Laurent started here at the same time, yet you've advanced to being a cheeky smartass, while he's still marking time?”

Paul smiles and winks at me. “I don't know, Boss. Maybe it's because I'm a handsome devil and Laurent's a plod.”

Maybe I'm being unfair, but I worked hard to get a permanent posting here for Paul because I rate his work so highly. Laurent, on the other hand, is slow on the uptake, but he's the son of an official in Perpignan and he was foisted on me.

I shake my head and rub my hand over my eyes. “You'd better get Gerard on the phone for me,” I say. “But do me a favour and wait until after I've eaten my croissant.”

I have no sooner finished my coffee when an angry Monsieur Claude arrives at the office. I can hear him shouting at Paul, so I go to investigate and when I open my door a very red-faced Claude turns on me.

“What right do the police have, going through my clients' and staffs' personal files?” he demands. “That information is very sensitive. Some of the employees of the spa are important medical personnel.”

“You'd better come in to my office, Monsieur Claude. I'm not sure what you're talking about. My officer is simply seeking a list of key holders. Please, sit down and we'll try to get to the bottom of this.”

He sits down, perching on the edge of the chair I offer, and I take my seat across from him.

“Now, let's start at the beginning,” I say. “So far, only two of my officers have asked for information, Marcel, the trainee and Laurent, who you already know. Which one of them has been looking at the files?”

“No, Danielle, it wasn't one of them. It was the detective, the one in plain clothes. He had an official-looking letter giving him permission. He was in my office for over an hour, going through everything.”

“I haven't sent anyone to your office,” I reply with a frown. “Did you keep the letter he showed you?”

“No,” he replies, “I thought it was okay. Are you telling me the man was a fraud? What on earth was he looking for?”

“I have absolutely no idea, Monsieur Claude. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Claude looks sick. His colour has changed from bright red with anger to deathly white.

“I'd better get back to my office and see if anything is missing,” he says, getting to his feet.

“Give a description of the man to Paul before you leave. I'll try to find out what I can,” I offer. “If he's a stranger, one of my men might notice him in town because most of the 'curists' and tourists have left. In the meantime, please try to think about what he might have been searching for. I'm concerned that a stranger is snooping about, especially so soon after a suspicious death has occurred.”

“Dupont drowned. It was an accident. Poullet will confirm that, I'm sure. There is nothing suspicious. Not in my pool and not in my files,” Claude snaps before turning and storming out of my office, banging the door behind him.

I don't feel I can face speaking to Gerard at the moment so I send him an email instead, with the figures he's looking for together with a brief statement about the death of Dupont. I include an apology for not returning his phone call, making a lame excuse. I'm troubled that a member of my community has died in unusual circumstances and now someone is impersonating a policeman and poking around the place where he worked and was killed. This person has been very devious and determined. Something odd is going on and I plan to find out what it is.