The Three Evangelists

that lured him out of doors. Presumably it was about a meeting. And the murderer took back his letter. The courtyard is the perfect site for a murder. Apart from the back of the hotel, the other two walls have no windows, and it just gives on to a rat-infested alleyway. What’s more, the hotel guests have a key that opens the back door into the yard, because the front door shuts at eleven. It would be easy enough to get Dompierre to come down the service stairs late at night and come out through the back door for a rendezvous between two cars. According to what you tell us, he was after some information and probably didn’t suspect anything. He got a savage blow on the head and two stab wounds in the stomach.’

The doctor attending to the body looked up. ‘Three,’ he said. ‘Whoever it was was taking no chances. Poor chap must have died within minutes.’

Vernant pointed to some broken glass spread out on a plastic sheet.

‘Dompierre was hit over the head with a small bottle of water,’ he said. ‘No prints of course.’ He shook his head. ‘What’s it coming to when the dimmest hoodlum knows enough to wear gloves?’

‘What was the time of death?’ Vandoosler asked quietly.

The police doctor stood up and dusted down his trousers. ‘I’d say about eleven-ish last night. I can be more precise after the post-mortem, because the owner knows when Dompierre had dinner. I’ll let you know my first conclusions later tonight. It can’t have been later than about two o’clock.’

‘What kind of knife?’ asked Leguennec.

‘Probably just an ordinary kitchen knife, quite a big one. The usual sort of weapon.’

Leguennec turned to Vernant.

‘And the hotel owner didn’t notice anything special about the envelope?’

‘No, he says the name was written in biro, and in capitals. Just an ordinary white envelope. Everything’s ordinary, nothing remarkable at all.’

‘Why did Dompierre choose this downmarket hotel? He didn’t seem short of money.’

‘The owner says Dompierre used to live in the area when he was a child,’ said Vernant. ‘He liked coming back here.’

The body had been taken away. Nothing was left except the chalk outline indicating where it had lain.

‘Was the back door still open this morning?’ Leguennec asked.

‘No, it had been shut, probably by an early departing guest who left at about seven-thirty, according to the owner. Dompierre still had his room key in his pocket.’

‘And the guest didn’t notice anything?’

‘No. Even though his car was parked close to the body. But the driver’s door was on the other side from the corpse. So his car, which was a big Renault, was between him and it. He must just have driven off forwards, out of the courtyard, without noticing anything.’

‘OK,’ Leguennec concluded. ‘I’ll come along with you for the formalities, Vernant. You don’t mind passing this case over to me?’

‘Not at all,’ said Vernant. ‘For the moment, the Simeonidis link looks the most promising. So be my guest. If you draw a blank, you can send it back to us.’

Leguennec dropped Vandoosler off at the Metro on the way to the police station.

‘I’ll be over your way presently,’ he said. ‘I need to check some alibis. But first I need to contact the ministry to see where Relivaux is. In Toulon, or wherever.’

‘Would you like a game of cards tonight,’ suggested Vandoosler, ‘with your old shipmate?’

‘That depends. I’ll be along some time anyway. Why haven’t you got round to putting in a phone?’

‘No money,’ said Vandoosler.

It was almost midday. Anxiously, Vandoosler looked for a phone box before taking the Metro. If he waited until he had crossed Paris, it might be too late to find out the answer to his question. He didn’t trust Leguennec. He called the number at Le Tonneau and got Juliette.

‘Hello, it’s me, Vandoosler,’ he said. ‘Is St Matthew there?’

‘Have they found anything?’ asked Juliette. ‘Do they know who did it?’

‘If you think they can do that in a couple of hours, my dear. No, it’s going to be complicated and perhaps impossible.’

‘OK,’ sighed Juliette. ‘Here’s Mathias.’

‘St Matthew? Can you keep your voice down when you answer me. Is Alexandra eating there today?’

‘It’s Wednesday, so Kyril’s off school, but she’s here with him. She’s got into the habit of coming. Juliette makes up nice little dishes for Kyril. Today he’s got courgette puree. Yum.’

Under Juliette’s maternal influence, Mathias was starting to appreciate good cooking, that was clear. Perhaps, Vandoosler thought passingly, this new interest was distracting him from a rather more attractive prospect, Juliette herself and her fair white shoulders. In his place, Vandoosler would have thrown himself at Juliette rather than at a plate of courgette puree. But Mathias was a complex individual, who calculated his actions and never ventured into open country without long reflection. Each to his own way with women. Vandoosler forced from his mind the idea of Juliette’s white shoulders, which gave him a thrill, especially when she leaned across to pick up a glass. It was definitely not the moment for thrills, for him, Mathias or anyone else.

‘Was Alexandra there at lunchtime yesterday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you tell her about Dompierre’s visit?’

‘Yes. I didn’t mean to, but she asked me. She was feeling down. So I chatted to her to cheer her up.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not blaming you for that. It’s sometimes a good thing to let out a bit of rope. Did you tell her where he was staying?’

Mathias thought for a few moments.

‘Yes,’ he said once more. ‘She was afraid he would wait all day for Relivaux in the street. I reassured her and told her Dompierre was staying in the rue de la Prevoyance. I liked the name. I’m sure I said that, and I think I said the Hotel du Danube too.’

‘Why should it bother her if some stranger hung about all day waiting for Relivaux?’

‘No idea.’

‘Listen carefully, St Matthew. Dompierre was killed between eleven and two, with three stab wounds to the stomach. He had been tricked into meeting someone. It might have been Relivaux, who’s off God knows where, as it happens; or it could be to do with Dourdan, or from somewhere else. Can you get away for five minutes, and find Marc? He’s waiting for me at home. Tell him what I just told you, and ask him to get up to Le Tonneau and ask Lex where she was last night. In a friendly and calm way, if he’s capable of that. And he should also discreetly try to ask Juliette if she saw or heard anything. Apparently she’s a bad sleeper, so she might have heard something. It must be Marc who asks her, not you, understood?’

‘Yes,’ said Mathias, without taking offence.

‘Your job is to be the waiter, you keep an eye on everyone as you do your rounds and you notice any reactions. And pray to God that Alexandra didn’t budge from the house last night. Above all, not a word to Leguennec for now. He said he was going back to the station, but he’s quite capable of going round to the garden house or to Le Tonneau without me. So be quick.’

Ten minutes later, Marc walked into Le Tonneau looking ill at ease. He kissed Juliette, Alexandra, and little Kyril who jumped up into his arms.

‘Do you mind if I sit with you to have a bite?’

‘Do,’ said Alexandra. ‘Move up, Kyril, you’re taking all the space.’

‘You know what’s happened?’

Alexandra nodded. ‘Mathias told us. And Juliette had heard it on the news. It’s that same man, isn’t it? There can’t be any doubt?’

‘No, unfortunately not.’

‘It’s just ghastly,’ said Alexandra. ‘He’d have done better to tell us everything that was on his mind. It looks as if they’ll never be able to catch whoever killed Aunt Sophia now. And I don’t know how I’m going to live with that. How was he killed? Do they know?’

‘Knife in the stomach. Not instantaneous, but effective.’

Mathias was watching Alexandra, as he brought over Kyril’s plate. She shivered.

‘Keep your voice down,’ she said gesturing towards Kyril with her chin. ‘Please.’