The Resistance Man (Bruno Chief of Police 6)

much need to interview. He was close to his grandpa who died two days ago and is due to have a full Resistance funeral. If he misses that, he’s on the run. Did the police send you the photographs of the furniture stolen from the other Englishman’s house and the list of wine?’
    ‘No, what other Englishman?’
    Bruno pushed across the desk a copy of
Sud Ouest
. ‘A very influential Englishman who has a team from the minister of the interior’s office babysitting his property with their own forensics people looking for any trace that Murcoing had been there.’
    ‘Could be coincidence.’
    Ardouin’s tone was matter-of-fact, rather than negative. Bruno got the impression of a solid, painstaking magistrate who would steadily let the evidence build, while remaining wary of hunches and theories. There were not many magistrates of this type. Many of them justified the usual police grumble that they were left-wing, feminist and Green. On balance Bruno had concluded that this was reasonable. The law leaned to the side of property and authority; and it was no bad thing for some magistrates to tend a little in the other direction. In any event, he’d much rather deal with a
juge d’instruction
like the lugubrious but dependable Ardouin than with someone more flamboyant.
    ‘Of course it could be coincidence, but when we have so few other leads, coincidences are worth exploring,’ Bruno replied. ‘I’ve also launched some inquiries into the local gay community to see what’s known of Murcoing, his usual associates, friends where he may be able to stay, that sort of thing. And we’ve circulated photos of the stolen furniture, in case something turns up.’
    ‘What do you plan to do next?’
    ‘I’m going to start looking into the
brocante
business, try to find people who might have known Fullerton and Murcoing. You probably heard from J-J that the
Police Nationale
have asked the British for any information they may have about the victim. His brother is arriving later today to make funeral arrangements and he may be able to tell me more about Fullerton that might help us. Apart from keeping up the search for Murcoing, I’m not sure what else I can do.’
    ‘The
Police Nationale
tell me you’ve been seconded to the Ministry to focus on the burglary of this Englishman. Will that leave you any time to help me?’
    ‘If I’m right in suspecting the cases are connected, I’ll be working for you while working for them.’
    ‘Right, I’ll leave you to pursue your inquiries as you see fit, just keep me informed. An email each evening or a phone call will do.’ Ardouin gave Bruno an unexpected smile, a warm and genuine expression that lit up his usually mournful face. ‘And since it’s a warm morning, let me buy you a beer in that café you mentioned. Annette tells me you’re a keen tennis player, like me.’

12
    Brian Fullerton had the look of a boxer going to seed and carried himself like a military man. He had big hands with a gold wedding ring and an amiable face with a broken nose, big ears and floppy grey hair that needed cutting. He wore a blazer with an unidentifiable club badge on the breast pocket, the bowl of a pipe poking from it, and well-polished brogue shoes. So far all Bruno knew of Francis Fullerton’s looks was his passport photograph; from that formal snapshot he would never have guessed the two men might be brothers. Recalling that Fullerton had been thirty-six, Bruno estimated this man to be about ten years older.
    ‘My condolences on your loss. You made very good time from Bordeaux,’ Bruno began, glancing at his watch. He hadn’t expected the man until much later in the afternoon.
    ‘I cancelled the booking the Consulate had made for me and took the Ryanair flight to Bergerac instead,’ said the brother, in excellent French. ‘It seemed a lot closer. Here’s my passport, just to confirm I am the brother you’re expecting. I haven’t checked into the hotel yet, it seemed a bit early. They’d booked me into Les Glycines in Les Eyzies but that’s rather too pricey for me so I looked on the Internet and found a place in town, the Hôtel St Denis. It looked cheap but reasonably comfortable.’
    It was the place Bruno would have picked.
    ‘Where’s my brother’s body?’
    ‘At the morgue in Bergerac. The autopsy should be finished by this evening. It will then be up to the magistrate whether the body can be released for burial. He was a bit worried about identification. Now