The Devil's Cave: A Bruno Courrèges Investigation (Bruno Chief of Police 5)

anyone had come this way. The Baron waited for him at the bottom, a circular chamber large enough for both of them to stand, and shone his light into a low tunnel that led uphill into the distance.
    ‘Nobody’s used this for years,’ the Baron said. ‘The Resistance used to hide guns here in the war.’
    ‘So anybody from a Resistance family could know about it?’ Bruno asked.
    ‘Not really. They weren’t fools, they had a need-to-know system, and most of the old
Résistants
are dead.’
    ‘Where does this come out?’
    ‘St Philippon, in the ruined chapel by the old cemetery. There’s another tunnel branching off that used to go down to the Grand Roc near Les Eyzies, but it was closed by a rockfall decades ago. We’d better get back before Marcel wonders what the hell we’re up to.’
    ‘You mean we’re not going to follow this tunnel all the way?’
    ‘Not today. Any time you want you can borrow my keys and explore it at your leisure, or try it from the other end. See if you can find the entrance. The Germans never did, nor the
Milice
,’ the Baron said, referring to the notorious police of the Vichy regime.
    ‘Did they look for it?’
    ‘Oh, yes. One of the prisoners they took knew about it and died under torture without saying a word.’
    The Baron turned to climb back up the steps, but Bruno put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Tell me the truth,
mon vieux
, is this break-in genuine or is it some publicity stunt?’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘You know what I’m asking,’ Bruno said. ‘The point is, if I’m to report this and ask for a forensics team, I’ll have to give Périgueux a good reason to dig into their budget. If it all turns out to be some kids giving you a bit more publicity, we’ll both be in trouble.’
    The Baron, his face cast into ghoulish shadows by the upward glow from the torch at his waist, turned back from the steps and looked Bruno in the eye.
    ‘You know me better than that, Bruno. If I were trying to fool you, I wouldn’t have shown you the secret passage.’ He turned back and began climbing the steps. He spoke, almost to himself. ‘Anyway, that’s my duty done.’
    ‘You mean that you’ve convinced me nobody used this secret passage to get into the cave?’
    ‘No.’ The Baron stopped in his climb. ‘It means that I’ve carried out my duty to my father. He made me promise to pass on the secret to somebody I trusted. As he said, you never know when the Germans will come again. Or the English.’

10
    Back at the
Mairie
, Bruno headed for the Mayor’s office to tell him of the break-in and found himself called in to attend a meeting with the regional bank manager from Périgueux. Bankers made courtesy calls every few months to discuss building projects and financing plans for each of the communes in the
Département
. In the more important towns like St Denis the banker would first visit his local branch and afterwards invite the Mayor to the best lunch in town. But today was not so agreeable. The Mayor had removed the chair from in front of his desk and the banker stood before him like a naughty schoolboy.
    ‘Ah, Bruno, just the man I want to see,’ said the Mayor. ‘You know Monsieur Valentin from the bank, and you can tell him of the effort you have put into raising funds for a sports hall. Cake sales and
vide-greniers
, bingo evenings and collection tins, you name it and Bruno here has tried it. And now we’re being offered on a plate the sports hall of Bruno’s dreams.’
    ‘Get yourself a chair, Bruno. Monsieur Valentin here can remain standing while I explain to him why the commune of St Denis will no longer do any business with his bank.’
    ‘I beg your pardon?’ The banker’s voice almost choked.
    ‘You heard me,’ said the Mayor coldly. ‘No loans and no bonds. We’ll be closing the account we use to pay salaries and shifting the pension fund to the Banque Nationale de Paris. Along with my personal account and credit cards, and every other bank account in this town if I have anything to do with it.’
    ‘I don’t understand …’ The banker looked stunned. He cast his eyes appealingly toward Bruno, seeking some explanation. The Mayor’s voice ground on implacably.
    ‘I do not deal with my enemies, Monsieur Valentin. Least of all do I let them have access to my money.’
    ‘Enemies,
Monsieur le Maire
? We’ve worked together for years, been the banker for St Denis for over a hundred years …’
    ‘And now you’ve turned