Chief Inspector Maigret Visits London (16 page)

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Chapter Thirty

Genevieve Evremond died one week later.

She died on the very day of the Dulwich gallery's London Eye gala. The event went ahead, without anything unpleasant happening, and also without James Evremond, who had decided, following his release from Scotland Yard, that it was no longer appropriate for him to attend. The evening was a huge success.

It had become increasingly obvious all that week that Genevieve's life was quietly ebbing away, just as the sea slips away from the shore at low tide. She was not in any real pain, and slept for much of the time, but still enjoyed the visits from her friends, who came with all kinds of treats that she neither needed nor wanted. Izzy and Charlotte would come one afternoon, Celia and Granny Meg the next. And she was happy. In her own gentle, patient way, she was happy.

On that last day, she had seemed more alert. She joked with Patrick, and the nurse, as though she had not a care in the world. Charlotte and Izzy came in the morning that day because they hadn't come the day before, while Celia and Granny came at 4 pm. Genevieve was tired by then, so Granny said they wouldn't stay for more than a few minutes, but Genevieve had other ideas. ‘Stay with me. Please, stay with me, it won't be very long now,' she said.

‘What does she mean?' Celia whispered to Granny. But Granny could not speak. Not yet. Instead she gently took hold of Genevieve's hand and kissed it.

‘How do you know, dear child?' she eventually said.

‘I can see the Angels. They're gathering all around me – everywhere. And I can hear the music. It's lovely, so lovely. I've never heard music as beautiful as this before.

‘Celia, get her father and Patrick. Tell them to come quickly!' Granny cried.

By the time they came she had lifted herself up from her pillow so that she was almost sitting upright: this was something she had not been able to do for many days. She had a look of pure joy on her face, and was radiant: far beyond beautiful. She's like an Angel herself, Celia thought: a real, genuine, Angel.

‘Oh, Mummy, you're here,' she said softly, ‘thanks for coming. I always thought you'd come for me.' Then she turned towards her father and Patrick and said, ‘I'm alright now, Mummy's here, and there's no need for you to worry about me any more: all the pain's gone, and everything's wonderful.'

Then she closed her eyes, and Granny thought she had gone. But suddenly she opened them, and spoke again. ‘I love you Daddy, I love you Patrick. Mummy says we'll never be far away from you, so be happy, and help each other. And Daddy must tell the police everything he knows now. Promise that you'll tell them everything.'

‘I've told them everything already, my darling,' her father said, although his words were muffled by his sobbing and that of Patrick. ‘I promise if I think of anything I've forgotten I'll tell them immediately.'

Genevieve closed her eyes again for a few moments. When she opened them again she whispered, ‘it's all about love, Daddy. I want you and Patrick to remember that
always
. It's all about love: always and forever: love. Can you hear it? That's the song the Angels are singing – it's the key to
everything –
unending love, amazing grace.'

Then she smiled, took her Mother's outstretched hand, and went with her to Paradise.

Her funeral, eight days later, was held in the church of St Clement with St Peter in Dulwich, where Genevieve and Patrick had attended Sunday school. The church was packed to the rafters: it seemed like everyone in the whole of Dulwich was there. And everyone said the same thing: the church had never looked more beautiful, nor had they seen so many candles and sweet-smelling flowers in the one place before. Nor had the choir of that church sung as exquisitely as they sang that day. It was all for Genevieve; gentle child of love and light.

The local police were there in force. So were Chief Inspector Scott and Sergeant Andy Gillespie, representing Scotland Yard, both of whom were seen to wipe away many tears from their eyes during the service. They were not alone: there was not a single dry eye in the church that day.

After the funeral, Patrick Evremond sought out the two Met policemen. ‘Thank you both for coming,' he said. ‘My father and I really appreciate you being here.'

‘Trust me, and I'm sure I speak for Andy as well as myself, it is an honour to be here. It was a very great privilege to meet your lovely sister. May she rest in peace, and may you and your father find consolation in the knowledge that she is beyond all pain and suffering now,' Chief Inspector Scott said, patting Patrick on his shoulder.

‘Thank you, Chief Inspector. Actually I have some brilliant news for you. I'm not going back to Cambridge to finish my degree. What's the point anyway? Yes, The Recruiter's gone, but I'm sure there are many more ready to take his place. And I want to be part of the fight against them. I'm going join the Metropolitan Police as soon as possible. Now don't you think that's a great idea?'

‘No, not really, Patrick. How about this as an alternative plan: you return to Cambridge, gain a good degree, and
then
join the Met. If you come in at graduate entry level – especially from somewhere as prestigious as Cambridge – you'll be fast-tracked through the ranks. I promise that I'll do everything in my power to help you, and I'm sure Andy will too. And with your brains, my brawn, and Andy's… er… er Andy's… '

‘Je ne sais quoi, guv
?'
12
Andy interrupted helpfully.

‘Yes, exactly right! With Andy's er… whatnot
,
you'll probably be Deputy Commissioner of the Met before I even think about drawing my pension. How's that for an alternative plan from an experienced cop, who's been around the block a few hundred times more than you? Is it a deal?'

Patrick hesitated for a few moments then reached out to shake Clive Scott's hand. ‘It's a deal, Chief Inspector, it's a deal!'

‘Thank the Lord for that,' Granny Meg, who had overheard the conversation, whispered to Celia.

‘Amen,' said Philippe, ‘Clive Scott's right: he's a fine, brave lad, and he'll do well. I'd like a few more of his calibre in the
Police Nationale.'

‘I know he speaks very good French, Philippe,' Celia said, ‘because I've heard him talking on his mobile a couple of times. I think he has a French girlfriend.'

‘Does he indeed,
ma cherie
? Hmm, that's very interesting. I'll certainly bear that in mind for the future.'

***

Granny Meg and Philippe Maigret were married, as planned, at the end of June. They were actually married
three
times: twice in Paris, and the final time in Fingest, Buckinghamshire. (Strictly speaking, only the first ceremony was an actual ‘wedding', because the next two ceremonies were church blessings.) On each occasion Inspector Georges Martin, not yet fully recovered from being run down in Maida Vale, but now able to walk with the aid of a stick, was best man, while Jacques Laurent was groomsman.

Firstly, to conform to French law, they were married in a civil ceremony at the Hotel de Ville, or City Hall at 11 am. This ceremony was followed by a
vin d'honneur,
at Madame Louise Maigret's Avenue Foch apartment,
where family and friends were invited to drink a glass, or two, of champagne, to celebrate the marriage.

At 2 pm on the same day, there was a blessing of the marriage at St George's Anglican Church, on the Rue Auguste Vacquerie. And then there was a magnificent Reception and dinner at the Jules Verne restaurant sitting atop (or almost!) the Eiffel Tower, which Louise Maigret had commandeered for the entire afternoon and evening.

Four days later, when everyone had recovered from these festivities, they all boarded the Eurostar for London. And not only the humans! Brodie came too, along with Louise Maigret, and Rosa, and many of Philippe Maigret's close colleagues at the
Police Nationale,
and, of course, Granny Meg's family
.
But not, alas, Inky, who had been left at home in SE24 with a dog minder, much to Max's annoyance: as he put it, ‘Inky
should
be in Paris for the wedding, because she was the one who found the counterfeit money in the first place, and that just about solved the whole case for the police.'

However, Inky
did
attend the third wedding, which took place in the lovely church of St Bartholomew in the historic village of Fingest, Buckinghamshire. And so did Chief Inspector Clive Scott, and Sergeant Andy Gillespie, of the Metropolitan police.

Fingest church, although small, is listed as being of exceptional interest, and it was one of Granny Meg's favourites. In fact, this was the very church she took Philippe Maigret to see on the day they drove into the country for lunch, when they were being followed by the Met police. He had agreed that it was perfect for their third wedding.

He said it was also
appropriate
because the first ten or twelve priests who served St Bartholomew's, whose names were printed in gold leaf on a board inside the church, all had French surnames. They were: ‘de this', and ‘de that', or ‘d'other', so Granny said they must have come to England following the Norman Conquest of 1066. The church tower, she pointed out, was most definitely Norman, and was built early in the 12
th
century. It has a famous west tower which is wider than the narrow nave, the guide book informed visitors, which might mean that the tower was originally used as the nave, and that the present nave was the original chancel. The present chancel is 13
th
century.
13

There is a wedding custom in Fingest that the groom must carry the bride over the church gate when leaving the church after the wedding. The gate is locked to prevent the couple escaping, and the groom must lift his new wife over the gate while family and friends watch. This is meant to bring good luck to the marriage. Philippe was enthusiastic about observing this custom, but Megan wouldn't allow it: she said she had far too much respect for the well-being of his back to let him even
attempt
it!

After that ceremony, there was a final party, this time in Oxford, which was followed by a week's honeymoon at a secret location in Scotland.

And that is the story of how Granny Meg became ‘Granny Maigret'.

Did they live happily ever after, even without observing the lucky Fingest wedding tradition? Well, for
most
of the time they did.

However that's really another story.

1
The French name for the Channel

2
Cognito ergo sum:
René Descartes, French philosopher 1637

3
Provenance: the history of ownership.

4
Cockney rhyming slang: mate

5
Book of Revelation, chapter 12

War broke out in Heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon: and the dragon fought with his angels, but he lost. And the great dragon was thrown out; that old snake called the Devil and Satan, who lies to the whole world – he was thrown down to earth, and his angels were thrown down with him…

6
Maranatha (Greek) ‘Come, Lord Jesus'

7
The Riot Act of 1715 was abolished in the 1970s. It had allowed the police to break up groups of 12 or more people. If the group did not disperse after the Act was read, lethal force could legally be used against the crowd.

8
A two-way mirror is glass which, on one side shows a reflection, but on the other side functions as a window. It is used to observe people so that they are not aware that they are being watched, and listened to, or who is watching them. Two-way mirrors are common in police stations and other similar places.

9
Free at last, free at last, Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last. The very time I thought I was lost, Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last…

Negro spiritual, from slave period, North America

10
Part of the witches' spell from
Macbeth
(William Shakespeare)

11
Dutch courage: Strength or confidence gained from drinking alcohol

12
French –
Je ne sais quoi
: A quality that cannot easily be described or named.

13
The nave is the central approach to the high altar, the main body of a church. The chancel is the space around the altar in the sanctuary at the east end of a traditional Christian church building.

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