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

Delaron, Bruno suddenly realized he had a perfect opportunity to get the newspaper to investigate the links between the holiday village project and Lemontin’s file on Thivion. In the circumstances, Delaron could hardly say no.
    Bruno smiled as he poured the boiling water into the cafetière; he liked solutions where everyone seemed to win. He put cups and sugar onto a small tray and carried them outside.
    ‘… will be retiring at the end of the year and then I’ll want a new chief inspector,’ J-J was saying when Bruno put the tray down on the table.
    It sounded as if J-J was trying yet again to lure Isabelle back to the
Département
. J-J had already confided to Bruno that she’d be a strong candidate to take over his job when he retired as chief of detectives. Bruno thought the chances of her returning to the Périgord were very slim. Isabelle had the taste of Paris now, with a powerful job on the Minister’s staff, international experience after liaising with Scotland Yard and the kudos of having been wounded while leading a successful operation. She could go very far indeed, and sheknew it, which was why Bruno cherished what time they had together.
    J-J finished his coffee and left, and as his Citroën lurched down the lane Isabelle leant back in her chair, turned her face up to the sun with her eyes closed and said, ‘Our puppy has just peed on my lap, so I need a quick shower. But first, why not come here and kiss me?’

17
    When he awoke to find Isabelle’s head tucked into the hollow between his chest and his shoulder, one of the first things Bruno remembered was that she had called Balzac ‘our puppy’. He tried to identify the noise that had woken him, and turned to look down and see a small basset hound worrying at one of the rubber thong sandals he used as slippers. As he shifted, Isabelle woke up and tightened her arm around him.
    ‘What’s that noise?’
    ‘Balzac,’ he replied, leaned over the side of the bed and picked up puppy and thong together and placed them on his chest. Balzac abandoned the thong and began sniffing his way from Bruno’s chest to his neck and then to Isabelle’s shoulder.
    ‘What time does the cave close?’ she asked.
    He checked his watch. ‘Usually in about thirty minutes from now, but they may be staying open later. Let me check.’ He reached for his mobile, ignoring the long list of messages and missed calls, and called Marcel and then Delaron to arrange to meet them at the cave when it closed.
    He kissed Isabelle, climbed into the shower and dressed in uniform. He began answering messages while she showeredand changed. He then rang Alphonse, one of the original hippies from 1968 and a respected local figure. The first Green to be elected to the town council, Alphonse also kept goats and made the best goat’s cheese in the district. Bruno said he needed Alphonse’s advice and asked if he was free to join them at the cave.
    Leaving Balzac in the back of his official van with the remnants of Bruno’s sandal, they arrived at the ticket office as Marcel was escorting out the last of the tourists. The car park was overflowing, with more cars lined up and down the sides of the road. Delaron, inevitably, was taking photos of the scene.
    ‘Have you spoken to your nephew since he told me what really happened?’ Bruno asked.
    Delaron nodded nervously.
    ‘And you give me your word that you had nothing to do with the goat’s head and painting the Madonna?’
    ‘Nothing, honestly,’ he said. ‘That’s why Marcel wanted to call you in. It got us worried.’
    When Marcel joined them, Bruno introduced Isabelle as an inspector from the
Police Nationale
, which was technically correct, and said they wanted to take a further look.
    ‘The chapel is closed off with a rope. People can look in, but not walk in,’ Marcel said.
    ‘Has your son told you what he told me?’ Bruno asked, his voice cold with disapproval. Marcel nodded, and repeated Delaron’s assurances. When Bruno asked if business had been good, Marcel pointed at the car park and said it had been excellent, almost a record.
    ‘So I can be confident you’ll be making a generous donation to the school sports fund.’ Bruno asked for all the lights to be turned on and for the largest plastic bag they had in the gift shop. He was just heading for the tourist entrance when Alphonse arrived in his truck, the usual hand-rolled cigarette bobbing from his lower lip. Bruno made the introductions and then