The Resistance Man (Bruno Chief of Police 6)

may be even better. There’s a sensibility … I don’t know how to put it but I find it hard to equate Paul the artist with the brutal way Fullerton was killed.’
    ‘So how do you explain it?’
    ‘I don’t, I can’t.’
    The two men sat together in companionable silence, the engine still running. Finally the Mayor spoke.
    ‘Give my regards to Pamela when you collect her from hospital. And take my tip, make an occasion of it. Take her some flowers. Maybe you should take her some croissants. The food at that hospital leaves a lot to be desired.’
    ‘Thanks for the tip, and for the dinner and the ride,’ said Bruno, climbing out of the car. ‘I’ll let you know how things develop. Sleep well.’
    *
    ‘What a wonderful breakfast,’ Pamela exclaimed as Bruno placed the tray on her lap, poured her a glass of champagne mixed with orange juice and kissed her on the forehead. Somehow she’d managed to fix her hair and face and look fetching for their arrival. Fabiola held Balzac back from leaping onto the bed and allowed him to give Pamela a single token lick on the neck before putting him on the floor with his own chunk of baguette.
    ‘It’s a special occasion,’ said Pamela. ‘I think he deserves a corner of my croissant.’
    ‘I’ll fit you with a bandage we call a figure eight. It will keep your collarbone in place,’ Fabiola said, passing the treat down to Balzac. ‘You should still wear the sling most of the time because otherwise you’ll try to do too much with that arm. I’ll be there to help you dress until you get used to it.’
    ‘Presumably that means I can help you undress,’ said Bruno, pouring the coffee. He pondered making some light remark about Gilles, but thought better of it. He had no idea if or howtheir relationship had developed, and no doubt Fabiola would prefer to impart any news to Pamela herself.
    ‘You’d better learn to restrain yourself,’ Fabiola chided him. ‘We want this collarbone to heal quickly.’
    ‘The doctor here said it would be at least six weeks,’ Pamela said. ‘And longer before I can ride again.’
    ‘He’s right,’ said Fabiola. ‘I’d like you to wait three months.’
    ‘But that’s my peak season. If I can’t look after the guests I’ll lose my regular visitors.’
    ‘We’ve taken care of that,’ said Bruno. ‘Florence has recruited two girls from her oldest class who’ll come and clean the
gîtes
and your house and change the bedding. They’ll also take care of the washing and ironing every Saturday morning for twenty euros a week each. And Yannick who lives at the bottom of your lane will look after the garden for ten euros an hour …’
    ‘Thank you both, you’ve been marvellous. But what about Bess?’
    ‘All taken care of,’ said Bruno. ‘No charge. Since I reported that the accident took place while you were helping the town police, the council paid the fifty euros for the disposal.’
    ‘I’ve been looking on the Internet and there’s a
jument
for sale up near Limoges,’ Pamela said, her eyes bright. ‘She’s a Selle Français, Bruno, like your Hector, and I’m thinking about breeding her. It would be lovely to have some foals around the place.’
    ‘You can’t buy a horse till you’ve ridden it and that’s a good three months away,’ said Fabiola. ‘Now let’s get you packed up and dressed and we’ll take you home. Bruno, you take the foodand the suitcase and the dog down to the car and I’ll help Pamela dress. I want to fit this new figure-eight strap. Then come back and get us, but knock first.’
    He was delayed at the Land Rover by a phone call from Yves, who apologized for calling so early but he’d been having breakfast with Annette. He’d mentioned something about Paul Murcoing and she had insisted he call Bruno at once. Bruno told him to go ahead.
    ‘When I last spoke to you about him, I’d talked to someone who evidently disliked him. Last night at one of the rehearsal dinners I spoke to somebody who liked him, or at least thought well of him. Apparently he’d met Paul when they were both volunteering at a hospice in Bergerac. He said he thought Paul was a kindly boy and found it hard to believe he’d killed anybody. That’s it, Bruno. If I hear any more, good or bad, I’ll let you know.’
    The Land Rover had just passed through Meyrals on the way back when Bruno’s phone rang again. Fabiola, who had dealt with too many car-crash victims to let a driver use a cellphone, took