His broken body can hunt no more.
~ ~ ~
Stunned, I sat up. The gory sight at my feet was awful. There was blood and grisly splatters of brains all over me.
I caught a movement from the corner of my eye. I turned and found myself face-to-face with the most hideous sight I could imagine. The person coming towards me had no recognisable facial features. It was as though he’d been made of wax and had got too close to a blow-torch. The guttural, animal sound that came from him made me freeze. I watched helplessly as he bore down on me, a shotgun in his hands.
Before I could force myself to move he brought the butt of his shotgun around in a sweeping arc that ended with the side of my head.
Just before I lost consciousness I heard the sound of a police siren. Then all tumbled into a pain-filled blackness.
Chapter 14
Serious-faced Gendarmes prowled the spotless corridors of the new Poly-Clinique and Hospital that had been built on the outskirts of Pontivy. Their soft-soled boots squeaked against the shiny polished floor. The usual hospital appearance and sickly odour was still swamped by the newness, the bright decor and the smell of unused furnishings and pine-wood trim. It felt more like a sprawling hotel than a place of medical assistance.
In a private room on the top floor, the lights had been dimmed and the door firmly closed. A silent, unmoving body lay beneath crisp white linen. Tiny neon lamps blinked their echoes of vital signs and a low, bubbly-beep followed the pulse of the beating heart. Stray curls of dark hair peeped from a swathe of bandaging that covered one half of the tanned face.
Two chairs were at the bedside. In one was a pretty young woman, her tired face almost as pale as the sheets beneath the man’s hand that she held. She gently stroked the hand and murmured to the man in a low soft voice, willing him to come back. In the other chair sat a grim faced, English-speaking Gendarme. He sat upright, eyes closed, dozing.
~ ~ ~
The sheets rustled stiffly as William moved his legs. He tried to sit up, but found he hadn’t the strength and the pain in his head made him gasp.
Rachel stood quickly, grabbed the cord and pressed the nurse’s call button. The door to the room opened almost immediately, and a tall man, shrugging his arm and shoulder into a white coat, rushed in with a nurse hard on his heels.
‘Ah....I was just passing. How is he? Is he ok?’ asked the doctor as his glance passed over the monitor screens.
‘I think he’s beginning to come around.’ said Rachel moving back to give the doctor room to see his patient.
‘Hello, Monsieur Blake. Welcome back.’ said the doctor as he peered into the confused expression in William’s one visible eye. ‘You are in the new Pontivy Hospital. My name is Gerard, I’m your doctor and surgeon. You’ve had a bit of an accident, but I think you’ll be ok soon.
‘Hi doc.’ I croaked. ‘Could I have something to drink please.’
‘Of course you can, nurse will fix you up. I’ll go get you something to relieve the pain and help you rest. I think though, that this young lady would like a word for a few minutes.’ he turned to Rachel. ‘Just a few minutes now. And Monsieur Bertrand, I would have a word with you please, if you would step outside a moment.’
‘Hi Rachel.’ my voice was easier after a few sips of water. ‘I think my memory has some holes in it. But I’m not liking what I do remember. I’m hoping you’ll tell me it was just a bad dream.’
‘Oh, I wish I could. But it was no dream.’ Rachel gripped his hand. ‘It seems Jacques was a nastier piece of work than anybody thought. The Gendarme who was here just now, says they think he was mixed up in a lot of bad stuff with his gang of young roughs.’
My mind startled me with another sharp memory. ‘How’s Marie.’ I sat up. ‘I remember Jacques said some awful things.’
‘Well, she’s wounded, but not too seriously – so don’t get worried. She’s down the hall, about three or four doors away.’
‘Can we go see her? My legs feel ok.’
‘I’m afraid we’ve a problem there. You see, Jacques is dead and the police suspect that somehow, you might have caused it. They won’t be letting you go anywhere just yet. And anyhow you’re hooked up to this machine and in no condition to get out of bed.’ she glanced up at the observation window. ‘The doc’s coming back now. Whatever you do, don’t say a word to Bertrand, the Gendarme...unless I’m here.’
The door opened and the doctor strolled in with a small enamel tray and a confident smile.
‘Sorry you two. but I’m going to ask you to leave us young lady. I need to examine the papa and then I’m going to give him something to help him sleep. You need rest too. Go home, get something to eat and go to bed. Come back in the morning.’
‘What about our friendly Gendarme?’ asked Rachel.
I was surprised by the sudden change in her voice to a brusque, businesslike tone.
‘I’ve sent him away. Said I’ll call when I think papa is ready to talk. But he’ll be back tomorrow morning anyway...He said he had to speak with Madam de Beauchamp, to take her statement.’
‘Thanks doc.’ she said.
I managed to lift my head from the pillow, ‘What day is it Rachel? I’ve a feeling it’s late.’
‘It’s Monday evening. You’ve been here since yesterday lunchtime.’
‘How...’
‘Not now. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow.’ she kissed me on the forehead. ‘Do as you’re told.’ then, as she opened the door, she added, ‘And don’t forget. Not a word unless I’m here.’
The door closed behind her with a soft click and the doc set about teasing the bandages away from my head and face.
~ ~ ~
Whatever was in the medication that William was given, it was strong stuff, almost before Gerard had left his room, he was asleep. A deep dreamless sleep.
Sometime after midnight, he didn’t see the pale face that looked in on him through the room’s observation window. The dark auburn hair had lost its gloss and was pulled back by a sturdy clip. The bright eyes were red rimmed and overflowing with tears. A thick absorbent dressing, overlaid with adhesive surgical tape was stuck to the left side of her neck. It disappeared under the collar of her shirt, extending down towards her shoulder.
William didn’t see her hand lift to her sad smile and blow him a kiss.
He didn’t see the guilty, heart-tearing sob and he didn’t see Marie, as she slowly walked out of the main door with her personal belongings rolled in a towel. He didn’t hear her quietly rebuff the pleading of the flustered night-shift nurse as Marie gave her an envelope and made her way to the lift.
~ ~ ~
I took the doc’s advice, he was right, I was tired and hungry, and drove straight back to dad’s cottage from the hospital.
Cautiously, I checked all around the house and, finding nothing untoward, went in and settled down in front of an electric fire in the lounge with a hunk of cheese and bread. I kicked off my shoes and thought about calling Michel.
It’s a bit late now, I thought, maybe first thing in the morning. I need some guidance and, the way it’s looking, Dad’s going to need an experienced French lawyer.
I thought I was hearing things at first. But no, there it was again. A gentle tapping on the door. I went into the entrance hall, turned on the light.
‘Tap, tap-tap-tap.’
Maybe it’s just a loose branch from the rose flapping in the breeze, I thought and turned away, back to the plate of bread and cheese.
‘Ma’am, please help me.’ called a husky sounding voice.
‘Who’s there. Who is it.’ I asked. I could feel the short hairs on my neck and arms prickle. I pulled my mobile phone from a pocket and was about to dial 112, the emergency number, when I heard the voice again.
‘It’s me Ma’am....Charles.’
‘I’ll be there in a moment.’ I said. Then turned and sprinted up the stairs. He’d turned his back on me for a second this morning and I’d laid him out with a double fist pu
nch to the back of his head. I thought he’d be long gone. A window on the landing looked out over the small porch, I opened it wide and leaned out.
‘I’m up here Charles, step out of the porch so I can see you.’ I called. My voice brusque and I hoped it sounded more confident than I felt.
From below I heard a faint mumbling and Charles shuffled into view, lit by the automatic lamp in the porch.
From the stiff way he moved I thought it seemed he was in pain. One arm hung limp and even from the window I could see that one of his eyes was swollen and almost closed. More damage than I’d caused, I thought.
‘Sorry ma’am, but I didn’t know where else to go.’ he called up.
‘What happened? Were you in a car crash?’
‘Oh no....Nothing like that.’ he said, staggering and leaning against the porch doorway. ‘It was the others, the lads ma’am....They did this.’ his voice caught in a sob. ‘I told them that we should go to the police and tell the truth.’
‘Truth about what Charles?’
‘Jacques and his mum. At the house this morning.’
‘Stay where you are. I’m coming down.’
For the second time in just over twenty-four hours, I was practicing my first aid. Charles had been beaten, but I was sure nothing was broken or seriously damaged, beyond bruising and a couple of loosened teeth. There’d be no need for another visit to the Accident and Emergency today. Like a lot of big men who sculpted their bodies with weights and steroids, he really was a bit of a wimp and none of the injuries were awful. While I cleaned away some of the drying blood, Charles told me his story.
‘You see, when the law arrived at the shooting club, one of the lads told our story to the cops. Like Jacques had ordered....How it was early and we saw Monsieur Guilliame coming out of the gateway to the house, driving fast...and we followed him here. We didn’t go in.’ Charles shook his head, winced and sighed. ‘Then they laid low and managed to sneak out when the cops went to find Monsieur Guilliame and Jacques.
They make me nervous ma’am...cops I mean.’ he shivered. ‘When the lads came here to get me, I told them that I wanted to turn myself in and tell the truth. They wanted to take you with them, I said you’d run off...I said that you’d hit me, knocked me out and escaped.’
‘I see.’ I said as I sponged his face. I wrapped a small bag of frozen peas in a towel. ‘Hold this on your head, over your eye....it’ll help take the swelling down. Where are they now do you think. These friends of yours?’
‘Oh...they aren’t friends anymore ma’am, left me for dead in the lane they did. I don’t know where they went.’ he winced as I lifted his arm. ‘Said they’d dump the Landie...in case the cops had the number, steal a motor and go back to Rennes....Home I s’pose. I came here and hid-out in your woodshed.’
‘Well thank goodness I didn’t go out for logs. I’d have probably hit you again.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
He looked at me sheepishly. ‘They all laughed when I told ‘em what you did ma’am.’
I made coffee and gave him some aspirin, the big man went on with his rambling, sorry tale. It seemed that this little gang, which Jacques had led, were on the edge of organised crime in the seedier, club-lands of Rennes. He told her of Jacques’ loud boasting of how he’d killed....murdered, his own mother and her old housekeeper.
‘Made me feel sick, ma’am.’
I looked at him, he was really just a boy and well out of his depth. He was very naive, immature and frightened.
‘Right Charles. What do you want to do now? I asked, arms folded across my chest.
‘I think I’d like to tell the cops my story....the truth. And then keep out of everybody’s way.’ he peered at me from beneath his swollen blonde eyebrows. ‘What would you do ma’am?’
I think that’s a good plan....Don’t keep calling me ma’am.’ I sat opposite him on another tall stool. ‘Charles...I’m very tired, but there’s things I have to tell you.’
Between yawns, I brought the oversize youth up to date with things. Jacques’ death shocked him, but he already knew about poor Madeleine, the housekeeper. The fact that Marie was alive gave him some relief. I told him of the gendarme’s suspicions and explained how his statement would help William who was in Hospital with concussion and fractured face bones. Then I stood up.
‘Right! If you’ve nowhere to go. You can sleep in the lounge on the floor or the sofa, I’ll get you a quilt.’ I went to fetch a spare quilt from Dad’s linen cupboard and went back to him. ‘Here, get some sleep. On no account will you come upstairs. Not for any reason. Understand?’
‘Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.’
‘Don’t keep calling me ma’....oh never mind. Good night.’
~ ~ ~
The morning was typical of a Breton autumn. Rain, stirred by a brisk south-westerly spattered against Rachel’s bedroom window. It was just getting light as she began to remember what had happened the day before, I need a plan I thought. But, first-things-first, call Michel, see if he can find a good lawyer for dad.
After I’d finished that phone call I felt angry and betrayed, let down with a bump. Michel said he would ask his father to organise a legal representative but that he couldn’t get away to help, he was a bit tied up this week. I think I told him to never call me again, but that was after I’d used some startlingly inventive backstreet-french to tell him what I thought of him.
I sat on the bed for a few minutes feeling upset and letting my temper cool. I wiped away a tear and stood up, a glimpse of my face in the mirror was enough to pull me out of my self-pity and get my clothes together for the day. I showered quickly and dressed in a dark, formal trouser suit before going downstairs to make coffee.
The front door was open and the swirling wind brought in drops of rain that speckled the hall tiles. All was quiet.
‘Hah...I knew it. The coward has backed out and run. Damn it.’ I muttered and closed the door.
Just as I sat down, waiting for the coffee percolator to start its steamy bubbling, the door burst open and a wet Charles, hair plastered to his head came in carrying an armful of firewood.
‘Morning ma’am.’ he said as he went through to the lounge with the pile of split logs. ‘Sorry ma’am. It’s still dark and I left the door open so’s I could see the way. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.’
‘Well I am...and coffee will be ready in two minutes. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs if you want to wash. I don’t want to be late leaving, so look sharp.’ I said, perhaps a little too prickly.
‘Oh it’s ok ma’am. You said not to come upstairs and I needed to...well you know....go.’ he blushed. ‘And I had a wash at the well after.’
I laughed, as I thought of him washing in the rain and passed him a hand towel, then poured coffee into mugs and rummaged in cupboards for breakfast cereal.
Chapter 15
It was just on nine o’clock when Rachel’s bright red Peugeot pulled into the Hospital car park. Charles was sat beside her, he looked very pale and nervous when they spotted the dark blue Gendarme van by the main entrance.
Rachel told Charles to get out, but he was to stay in the foyer waiting room until she came to fetch him. They both trotted to the entrance doors, raindrops speckled the shoulders of Rachel’s dark suit.
~ ~ ~
The waiting room was as quiet as I expected it to be and I installed Charles in a chair out of the direct view of anyone using the main corridor.
‘Charles, now listen to me. Stay here, speak to nobody. Just wait until I come for you. I’m sure that, with a bit of bargaining, I can get you a good deal with the law officer. Especially as you’ve not known Jacques for very long.’
‘Ok ma’am. I’ve got it. Stay here and wait.’ Charles picked up an auto magazine and started thumbing through it.
I picked up the bag of clean clothes for Dad and took the lift to the top floor where I almost collided with Bertrand, the Gendarme, who was in a hurry to go down.
&
nbsp; ‘She left last night!’ He said angrily. ‘Discharged herself...And no one thought to ring me. Damned irresponsible. Incompetence is what it is!’ The lift door slid shut and he was gone.
‘Well, I assume he’s grumbling about Marie.’ I commented to a tearful nurse.
‘Yes...Well really it’s me he’s mad at, Miss.’ said the young nurse. ‘He’s a horrible man.’
‘Don’t you worry. I expect he’s cross with you because you were the only person he could see.’ I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug.
‘Miss, you are Rachel, Guillaume’s daughter….non?’ she asked, looking serious.
‘Oui, I’m Rachel.’ I said nervously, expecting bad news.
‘She gave me this for you.’ the nurse pulled an envelope from her uniform pocket. ‘When madam de Beauchamp left last night...Said it was important for you to have it first thing. That’s why I stayed on...to give it you.
‘Ah….Thanks.’ I said with relief. ‘How’s dad this morning, is he awake yet?’
‘Oh yes, Doctor Gerard doesn’t believe in his patients taking things easy. He’s out of bed, sat in his chair when I left him. Doctor’s just gone in again to check, but he won’t be long.’
‘Perhaps I’ll see you later, then. And don’t worry about Bertrand, he’s all grumpy hot-air. He’ll be ok later.’
I sat down in a small sitting-room and slit open the envelope. There were several sheets of paper inside. The top one, written in a small neat hand, was addressed to me.
Dear Rachel,
It seems we won’t be meeting each other after all, I was so looking forward to talking with you. But I have to leave. I couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment, anger and rejection in you dear father’s eyes after all this.
I will be going away, following my dream (William will know what I mean). Please ask him not to follow me. Not to try to find me. If he should see me, I couldn’t live with myself, having let him down so very badly.
I have enclosed a statement of events for Sunday morning, as far as I’m able to recall them, and have had my doctor witness my signature. I hope this will help smooth things with authorities.
M. Bertrand has told me what happened on Sunday. I believe I might know what may have happened to your dear father out on that hunting moor, I will try to help.