The Shadow Puppet (18 page)

And no blood had been spilled, there was no apparent wound!

‘The second mass is at seven o'clock, isn't it?'

It was a relief to hear the heavy tread of the doctor, a red-faced chap who was struck by the atmosphere and who looked at the inspector and the priest in turn.

‘Dead?' he asked.

But he had no hesitation in undoing her bodice, while the priest averted his eyes. Heavy footsteps in the church. Then the peal rung by the bell-ringer. The first chime of the seven o'clock mass.

‘All I see is an embolism that would have … I wasn't the countess's regular doctor; she preferred to be treated by a colleague in Moulins. But I was called to the chateau two or three times. Her heart was in very poor shape.'

The sacristy was very cramped. There was hardly enough room for the three men and the body. Two altar boys arrived, because there was mass at seven.

‘Her car must be outside,' said Maigret.'We'll have to have her taken home.'

And he still felt the priest's anxious eyes on him. Had he guessed something? Either way, while the sacristan, with the help of the driver, guided the body towards the car, he approached the inspector.

‘Are you sure that … I still have two masses to say. It's All Souls' Day. My congregation is …'

Since the countess had died of an embolism, couldn't Maigret find it in himself to reassure the priest?

‘You heard what the doctor said …'

‘And yet you've come here today, to this very mass …'

Maigret tried to stay calm.

‘A coincidence, Father … My father is buried in your cemetery.'

And he hurried towards the car, an old-model coupé. The chauffeur was turning the crank. The doctor didn't know what to do. There were a few people in the square who had no idea what was happening.

‘Come with us …'

But the corpse took up all the room inside the car. Maigret and the doctor crammed themselves in beside the driver's seat.

‘You look surprised by what I said,' murmured the doctor, who hadn't yet regained all his confidence. ‘If you knew the situation you might understand … The countess …'

He fell silent, glancing at the black-liveried chauffeur, who was absently driving his car. They crossed the sloping square, bounded on one side by the church built on the incline, on the other by the Notre-Dame pond, which was a poisonous grey that morning.

Marie Tatin's inn was on the right, the first house in the village. On the left there was an avenue lined with oaks and, at the end, the dark mass of the chateau.

A uniform sky, cold as a skating-rink.

‘You know this is going to cause a fuss … That's why the priest is pulling such a face …'

Dr Bouchardon was a peasant, and the son of peasants. He wore a brown hunting suit and high rubber boots.

‘I was going duck-hunting in the ponds …'

‘You don't go to mass?'

The doctor glanced at him.

‘It didn't stop me being friends with the old priest … But this one …'

They entered the grounds. The details of the chateau could be seen now: the ground-floor windows obscured by shutters, the two corner towers, the only old parts of the building.

When the car parked near the steps, Maigret peered through the grilled basement windows and saw kitchens full of steam, and a fat woman busy plucking partridges.

The driver didn't know what to do and didn't dare open the doors of the car.

‘Monsieur Jean isn't up yet …'

‘Call anyone … Are there any other servants in the house? …'

Maigret was sniffling. It was really cold. He stood in the courtyard with the doctor, who started stuffing a pipe.'

‘Who is Monsieur Jean?'

Bouchardon shrugged and gave a strange smile.

‘You'll see.'

‘No, tell me, who is he?'

‘A young man … A charming young man …'

‘A relative?'

‘If you like! … In his own way! … Well, why don't I get it out of the way … He's the countess's lover … officially, he's her secretary …'

And Maigret looked the doctor in the eye, remembering that they had been to school together. Only, no one recognized him. He was forty-two! He had put on some weight.

He knew the chateau better than anyone. Especially the servants' quarters. He had to take only a few steps to see the estate manager's house, his birthplace.

And perhaps it was the memories that troubled him so much! Especially the memory of the Countess of Saint-Fiacre as he had known her: a young woman who had personified, to the working-class little boy that he was, femininity, grace, nobility …

And she was dead! She had been pushed, like an inert object, into the car, and they had had to fold her legs. They hadn't even buttoned up her blouse, and white underwear contrasted with the black of her mourning dress!

…
a crime will be committed …

But the doctor claimed that she had died of an embolism. What supernatural creature had predicted such a thing? And why alert the police?

In the chateau people were running about. Doors were opening and closing. A butler, not yet in full livery, half-opened the main door and hesitated to come any further. A man appeared behind him, in pyjamas, his hair tousled and his eyes weary.

‘What is it?' he shouted.

‘The gigolo!' the doctor murmured cynically into Maigret's ear.

The cook had been alerted as well. She watched in silence from the basement window. Skylights opened in the roofs leading into the servants' bedrooms.

‘Well! What are we waiting for? Let's carry the countess to her bed, Maigret thundered indignantly.

It all struck him as sacrilegious, clashing as it did with his childhood memories. It made him uncomfortable, not just emotionally, but physically as well!

…
a crime will be committed …

The second peal of bells rang for mass. People would be in a great hurry. There were farmers who came from far away, on carts! And they had brought flowers to put on the graves in the cemetery!

Jean didn't dare approach. The butler, who had opened the door, was shocked and stood there frozen.

‘Your ladyship … Your lady …' he stammered.

‘So? Are you going to leave her there? Well?'

Why on earth was the doctor wearing an ironic smile on his face?

Maigret took charge of the situation.

‘Right! Two men … You!' (He pointed at the chauffeur.) ‘And you!' (He pointed at the butler.) ‘Carry her to her bedroom.'

And as they leaned towards the coupé, a bell rang out in the hall.

‘The telephone! … That's strange, at this time of day! …' Bouchardon muttered.

Jean didn't dare go and answer it. He seemed in a daze. It was Maigret who hurried inside and picked up the receiver.

‘Hello! … Yes, this is the chateau …'

And a clear voice said, ‘Could I speak to my mother? She must have come back from mass …'

‘Who's speaking? …'

‘The Count of Saint-Fiacre … And in any case that's no concern of yours … Let me speak to my mother.'

‘One moment. Will you tell me where you're calling from?'

‘From Moulins! For heaven's sake, I told you …'

‘It would be better for you to come here,' Maigret said, as he hung up.

And he was forced to press his back to the wall to let the two servants pass, carrying the corpse.

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