Red Light in the Pyrenees

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Some of you have met me before and you are aware that my name is Danielle and I am a police officer living and working in the Eastern Pyrenees in Southern France. It has been over two years since we first encountered one another and I can tell you, with some pride, that I now have jurisdiction over a large area stretching from south of Perpignan to the Spanish border. My recent success in handling serious crimes has ensured my quick promotion. Consequently, I am now called in to be the lead officer in all the major crime cases which occur in my area.

My best friend Patricia and I are still living in our little house on the outskirts of the small town where I was born. Although we will never meet with blanket approval, most people in the town now accept that two women can live together without the relationship being s****l, even if one of those women is a lesbian. Please don't misunderstand, Patricia and I love each other and sometimes we even sleep in the same bed, but that is as far as it goes. We are friends, loving friends, nothing more and nothing less.

Patricia and I have experienced remarkable changes in our lives over the past two years. I have advanced from being nothing more than a traffic cop to the esteemed position I now hold. Patricia has progressed from being an assistant in a funeral parlour to having her own business making and selling pies, pickles and jams. She has also established herself as an artist.

I am very proud of our achievements, and rightly so, as it has been an uphill struggle. The hardest thing to gain was the acceptance of local people. The turning point for Patricia came when the wife of the Mayor befriended her and the Commune Committee commissioned a painting from her. It is difficult being a lesbian in a small town, but easier if you have powerful friends. For me, the turning point came with my handling of two major cases involving violent death and drugs. This led to me being considered somewhat of a saviour in my town.

I am eating breakfast in the kitchen when the call comes in about Madame Henriette. Ollee, our dog, is making a nuisance of himself because he wants some of the cheese I'm eating. How can I refuse this odd-looking bundle of mischief when he is trying so hard to impress me? I cannot deny him, so most of my cheese ends up in his belly instead of mine. Although it's early on a Saturday morning, Patricia already has pans of apricots bubbling on the stove. She's trying to finish the task of making her jam before the day and the kitchen becomes too hot. Every so often Patricia checks the pans then goes back to the painting she's working on for a gallery in Perpignan.

“Must you go to work today?” she asks. “I was hoping we could go to the market in Ceret because I want to get a ham from Monsieur Charles. The one we have is almost finished and his are the best in the region. I've arranged to exchange six pots of pickles and three fruit pies for one of the really big ones.”

“I've been called to Ceret for this job and I must go now,” I reply. “I don't have time to wait for you, but if you put the jars and pies in my car you can meet up with me later. I'll be parking in the car park behind the main square and I'll give you my spare car key so you can get your stuff out of the boot when you need it. That way, you and Ollee can travel in on the bus whenever you're ready.”

“That's great Danielle,” she replies. “Perhaps you won't be too long and we'll be able to have lunch in that stylish little place in the square.”

“Perhaps,” I reply. “We'll see.”

The truth is, I've been told to expect lots of blood so I might not be feeling like eating any lunch, stylish, or otherwise. When my colleague Raymond called from Ceret, he said it was like a scene from a slasher movie, but I think he's probably exaggerating. Raymond is quite new to the job. He's never attended a violent death before, but he's assured me that he's up to the work. He also told me, rather proudly, that he didn't chuck up when he saw the corpse. Just as well, because we can't have him contaminating the crime scene. I am to meet Raymond at the scene and a doctor has been summoned to examine the corpse before it can be moved. I have requested that my old friend Doctor Poullet attend because we are used to working together, and besides, why not give my friend the work and the fee? Being the senior officer does have certain advantages.

Last year, I would have been rushing out of the door and racing to attend the scene, but now I take my time, because now I have the experience to know that the corpse is going nowhere and everyone must wait for me. So, I finish my coffee, kiss Patricia on the cheek and pat Ollee on the head, before heading out of the door. I am excited to be attending another major incident because I'm making rather a good name for myself out of the death and destruction of others. I have no qualms about this because it's a reasonable assumption that for one person to succeed, another must fail.