Dead End in the Pyrenees

Chapter 1The blow to his head wasn't hard enough to render Monsieur Dupont unconscious, but it stupefied him. Blood poured profusely from a deep scalp wound, down into his left eye. He flopped onto the recently washed tiles at the side of the Roman bath, then floundered at the edge, frantically trying to stop his body from slipping completely into the pool. His upper torso overhung the edge, hands slapping at the water as he tried to right himself. He was aware of the metal chair, attached to a hoist to enable the disabled to enter the water, beginning to descend. As it lowered it trapped Monsieur Dupont, forcing his head and shoulders under the water. He struggled, his toes drumming the moist tiles, arms flapping uselessly, but he was hopelessly stuck. Soon he succumbed. Brimstone-smelling steam rose from the surface of the spa pool and silence returned. When Madame Georges arrived for work, she was surprised to hear a low whirring sound coming from the pool area. She couldn't think what it might be. Surely the machinery and gadgets, designed to treat all manner of ailments, had been switched off at the close of business the night before? The last treatments were usually completed by 7pm, at which point everyone went home, leaving Monsieur Dupont, the caretaker, to lock up. Following the sound, Madame Georges entered the majestic Roman spa. The double doors swung silently closed behind her as she made her way towards the pool. She was aware of her feet, still encased in outdoor shoes, making a slapping sound on the tiled floor. Madame Georges immediately noticed that the hoist chair was down and something was bundled up beneath it at the water's edge, but as her spectacles were steamed-up from the damp atmosphere, she couldn't tell what that something was until she was practically on top of it. “Oh, mon Dieu!” she said aloud, on realising that what had appeared to be a bundle of rags, was in fact, a man. A wave of shock passed through her body, and she took off her glasses with shaking hands, cleaned them on the hem of her blouse and stared again. It was definitely a man. His body was still and what seemed to be blood gathered in a puddle on the tiles beneath it. Madame Georges could not immediately recognise the person, as the head and shoulders were under water. All the staff at les thermes wore pink track-suits and trainers to work, and the guests were usually attired in white towelling, dressing gowns and blue rubber pool shoes. This person was clothed in a dark-coloured suit and had formal shoes on his feet. Regaining some of her composure, Madame Georges turned and ran back through the double swing doors towards the office. She used her key to let herself in then immediately pressed the button to sound the alarm. The alarm was a wartime relic, a former air-raid siren, still used to alert people to an emergency. It wailed out over the valley and across the mountains twice. People who would normally have gone back to sleep at the first blast were now fully awake. The queue of chattering shoppers, waiting in line at the boulangerie to buy their baguettes fell silent, each person straining to listen for approaching emergency vehicles. This double call was used only for the most serious of incidents. Madame Georges sank into a chair, then she picked up the phone to dial the emergency number and report what she'd discovered. “Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu, a man is dead! I'm sure he is dead. There has been an accident, I think. Assistance, s'il vous plait, please come at once, please help me, I am alone here,” she said, when the call was answered. Madame Georges had seen death before many times. The spa attracted the sick and the old searching for cures for various ailments, and many of them spent the last days of their lives there – but this was different. Like a well-oiled machine, everything flowed into action. Before very long the pompiers' – who are both firemen and trained paramedics – arrived, along with an ambulance and a local practitioner named Doctor Poullet. A crowd began to gather in the street outside. But prior to this whole circus kicking off, I was the first on the scene, accompanied by one of my trainee officers. We managed to calm down Madame Georges before securing the area and this is where my story begins…