The Resistance Man (Bruno Chief of Police 6)

French.’ Valentoux was scrubbing at a pan that was already clean. ‘This Paul Murcoing, is he gay?’
    ‘So it seems. He’s disappeared and we’re keen to talk to him. I don’t know if you’re in a position to help.’
    ‘Would you like me to make some discreet inquiries? I don’t suppose you have many contacts in the gay community and I do know one or two people down here.’
    ‘Frankly, I’d be grateful for any information about him. He’s a bit of a mystery to me, and that’s a problem, given the way I work. I’m a village
flic
, which means I know everybody. In atown like this, where these things are important, I know whose grandpa was in the Resistance and who was a collaborator. And as often as not I know who’s having an affair, and if I don’t know I’ll probably get an anonymous letter of denunciation.’
    ‘And you don’t know any gays?’ All the dishes washed, Valentoux had turned and was leaning against the sink, looking at Bruno with a slightly amused expression.
    ‘Don’t be silly. There’s three thousand people in this commune. We get all sorts. But it tends to be very discreet and Paul Murcoing doesn’t fit into any part of the closeted gay world that I know around here. He’s an urban type, an outsider to the rural Périgord that I’m familiar with, and as a result I feel a bit lost in trying to track him.’
    ‘I’ll do what I can. Where was this Paul based?’
    ‘Bergerac mainly, but he worked for a while in Belvès, which is very like St Denis. He seems to have worked mainly as a driver. Hang on a moment, I’ll get a photo.’
    ‘I’ll be outside, having a much-needed cigarette.’
    Standing on the terrace, moths beating valiantly against the outside light, Bruno handed Valentoux a copy of the photo from the security camera.
    ‘Good-looking youth; with a smile like that he could be very popular in Paris. Can I keep this?’
    ‘Yes, I have copies. Pamela and I leave quite early in the morning to go and ride the horses, but I’ll probably be in the café by the
Mairie
by eight unless something comes up. And I can recommend the croissants. Goodnight. And sleep well.’
    When he came in from the bathroom, Pamela was sitting on the bed draped in a large bath towel. She had applied some fresh perfume and his bedroom was lit only by a single candle.
    ‘That was a lovely evening,’ she said as he started to unwind the towel. ‘I’m looking forward to your reminding me just why it is you prefer women.’

11
    Bruno was enjoying his croissant at Fauquet’s café when his phone rang just before eight.
    ‘Have you seen the paper yet?’ Isabelle asked, her voice sharp, almost shrill.
    ‘I’m just looking at it.’ He gestured to Fauquet to hand him the café’s copy of
Sud Ouest
, where the second story on the front page was ‘British spymaster burgled’.
    ‘You’re the only one who could have leaked that, Bruno. The Brigadier’s furious and I don’t want him taking it out on me.’
    ‘Not guilty. Check with Sergeant Jules. He told me that the reporter had simply looked up Crimson on Google.’ He scanned the report. It looked as if Delaron had transcribed the details of Crimson’s career from some official biography. On an inside page was Delaron’s photo of Crimson’s house and a file photo of Crimson receiving his knighthood at Buckingham Palace.
    ‘Well it’s building up as a story on the news wires and on the radio. The BBC ran something, so now we’re getting inquiries from the British press. The last thing we want is reporters running all over the place.’
    Bruno’s mental antennae alerted. Why would that be a problem if she were simply making an effort to find Crimson’s burglar as a matter of professional courtesy?
    ‘What are you up to, Isabelle?’
    ‘Stop it, Bruno. You know perfectly well I need the Brigadier’s backing to get this new job. He’s on the warpath and coming down here with Crimson when he flies in tomorrow. Have you made any progress?’
    ‘Maybe,’ he said, leaving the café to speak in private. ‘At least I’ve got a suspect. Name of Paul Murcoing, low-grade criminal record, last known address in Bergerac. J-J has a team looking for him now but he seems to have gone to ground. Where are you?’
    ‘I’m at Crimson’s house, babysitting the place till he gets back, and we’ve got forensics crawling all over it. If this Murcoing’s been arrested we’ll have his prints and DNA on file. Meanwhile I’ll see if