Authors: Julien Ayotte
Flower of Heaven (12 page)
“Madame Larouche, my name is Karl Pelland from the American embassy in Paris. Is your son Charles at home?”
“Charles does not live here anymore, monsieur, may I ask what this is about?”
“Yes, of course, madam, but it would be best if I could explain to both you and your husband, Jean-Claude, I believe.”
“Jean-Claude passed away two years ago, monsieur, and I live alone now that Charles has moved to Dijon. But why are you looking for Charles?”
“Madame, forgive me for being so bold, but does Charles know that he once lived in the orphanage in Giverny? It appears that he has been left money from a woman who claims to be his real mother. Have you ever told Charles that he was adopted by you in 1951?”
Obviously surprised to hear the news in such a sudden manner, Catherine Larouche, a woman in her early sixties, immediately became defensive as her expression revealed the unexpected announcement she had dreaded to hear for years. It was not that the Larouches had not told Charles of his origin when he was a teenager, it was the news that his birth mother, who had abandoned him, suddenly wanted to now enter his life, a woman who, she feared, would steal the affection of the only living being still close to her.
“My son knows that we adopted him when he was an infant, barely a month old, but the orphanage does not reveal the name of the mother if that is the mother’s wish. Charles had tried to find out her name, something he wanted to know, but never was able to.”
“I need to speak with Charles, madam. May I have his address or do I need to find out some other way where in Dijon he lives? The mother does not live in France, madam, and I do not believe she has an interest in interfering with Charles’s life, merely to leave him some inheritance when she dies. I cannot tell you her name, but I do know that she is quite wealthy now. I have just been asked to verify his whereabouts.”
Charles Andre Larouche was a history professor at the Universite de Bourgogne in Dijon, single, and a blond-haired six-footer, nothing like his adoptive parents who were both of much smaller stature. Karl headed for Dijon that afternoon.
It was late when he arrived in Dijon so he decided to check in to a hotel, enjoy dinner and a glass of wine, and get to bed early for a fresh start in the morning. But first, before he got too comfortable, Karl sent a fax to Jim Howard updating him on his progress and his next steps. Once the status of Charles Larouche was assured, he would focus his attention on beginning the search for Robert Elliott.
Dinner at the hotel was at 7:00 p.m. Karl’s fax had gone off by 6:15p.m. This gave Karl time to relax in the hotel lounge with a pre-dinner glass of brandy, just the thing on a cold early November day. The lounge was very typical of tastefully decorated lounges in a quiet hotel in France. Large stuffed Queen Anne chairs by a fireplace were ideal for unwinding over an aperitif and catching up on the news of the day from the assortment of newspapers neatly arranged on a corner credenza. Karl’s brandy arrived almost immediately once ordered and he reached for the afternoon edition of the local newspaper, Le Bien Public. In the lower right hand of the front page were the following headlines:
UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR FOUND DEAD AT HOME
At 9:00 a.m. this morning, a colleague found the body of Charles Andre larouche, a professor of history at the Universite de Bourgogne. The colleague, Prof. Jean Marchand, was meeting Prof. Larouche at his flat where the two were working on an upcoming seminar they were presenting later this month at the college. The police arrived at the scene to find the professor’s flat in a shambles, the obvious result of a struggle. Professor larouche suffered from a blow to the head from a blunt instrument thought to be a fireplace poker found nearby. The police have sealed the flat while attempting to amass more information from the crime scene. They were not aware of any motive for the professor’s death which could have resulted from a conflict following the intrusion by an assailant on the professor. Professor larouche, 36, was single and is survived by his mother, Catherine larouche of Paris who has been notified of the professor’s death. A suspect is being sought based on a description given to the Paris authorities by Madam larouche of an individual earlier today seeking her son’s address.
Karl gasped as he read the story. Madam Larouche would remember his face and name. Why had he said he was from the American embassy in Paris, which is where he really worked? Surely the police would go there and figure out from photographs what Karl Pelland looked like. What kind of assignment had Jim Howard given him, what the hell was going on here?
.
The phone rang at Jim Howard’s apartment in Providence. It was one o’clock in the morning and Jim was quite groggy when he answered.
“Jim, what the hell are you doing to me, what mess have you gotten me into?” Karl shouted over the receiver from the telephone vestibule of the hotel.
“Who is this, Karl, is that you, Karl? This better be important, do you know what time it is here? I got your fax a little while ago, sounds like good progress.”
“Forget the fax, you asshole, the kid is dead, he was murdered this morning, it’s all over the front page here in Dijon, and I’m the only guy they’re looking for right now. The mother gave the Paris police my description. I didn’t see any reason not to tell her about the American embassy in case she needed to contact me with more information later on, but, shit man, I never expected her to give this out.”
“Calm down, Karl, you didn’t do anything wrong. From the time you left Mrs. Larouche’s house to the time you checked into the hotel will surely show that you were on the road from Paris to Dijon all that time.”
“How the hell do I know when this guy was knocked off, the paper just said that they found his body at nine a.m. this morning, not how long he had been dead. What’s going on here, you son of a bitch, what the hell have you gotten me into?”
“Karl, I didn’t expect anything to happen, only that you would trace the whereabouts of the two kids. Can’t the embassy vouch for you being there yesterday or last night as well? If you can account for your time, you’ll be eliminated quickly as a suspect. But if they question you, Karl, tell them the truth, that I hired you to find the kid.”
Before the conversation continued, Karl noticed two gendarmes standing outside the phone booth giving him the once over. “Gotta go, Jim, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
The car registered to Karl Pelland, a silver 1986 Audi, had been spotted in the hotel lot. The Paris police had wired this information, along with the license plate, to the Dijon police as soon as Madam Larouche mentioned Karl’s name. Karl had some explaining to do.
At the local police station, Karl explained his visit to Madam Larouche earlier that morning, mentioning that he had been asked to find the location of two orphans. He also mentioned how he came to get Madam Larouche’s address and the nun from the orphanage. And why would he give his real name if he was going to commit a crime. Fortunately for Karl, two co-workers accounted for him the night before at an embassy social, making it nearly impossible for him to drive to Dijon that evening and be back to meet Madam Larouche the following morning in Paris. For now, he was free to go but was asked to be available for further questioning through his address at the embassy. Ironically, Karl was asked if he knew of any reason someone would want to harm Charles Larouche, to which he honestly answered no. Jim Howard had not seen the need to divulge any danger to the twins.
“Jim, I’m off the hook for now but I may be in a mess back at the office when I explain all of this to my boss. I’m sure he’ll want to know what I was doing here in Dijon. As far as you and I are concerned, Jim, this was just a favor, understand, I never got paid anything to do this, agree?”
“Agree.”
“Do you still want me to find the other kid? Is he in danger too? What aren’t you telling me, good buddy?” Karl muttered sarcastically.
“Just let me tell you this, Karl, if you don’t find this other twin, Robert Elliott, before someone else does, he might wind up dead too. That’s all I can tell you right now, but the kid may be a target and has no idea why. Find him fast, Karl, please, it’s really important. I’ll explain more later, but just find him!”
“Okay, okay, Jim, but I’ll need more money. Something tells me that finding this Robert Elliott may not be so easy. I’m heading back to Paris in the morning. Wire another ten thousand to the same place as before. You’re going to owe me, big time, Howard, big time.”
“Yeah, I know.”
.
In July 1951 the Musee du Louvre was attracting many visitors. The Louvre was the national art museum of France and occupied the site of a thirteenth century fortress. The building of the Louvre was started in 1546 during the reign of Francis I, according to the plans of the French architect Pierre Lescot. Additions were made to the structure during the reigns of almost every subsequent French monarch. The structure, which until 1682 was a residence for the kings of France, is one of the largest palaces in the world. By the mid-nineteenth century the vast complex was completed, covering more than forty-eight acres, and is a masterpiece of architectural design and sculptural adornment.
The nucleus of the Louvre collections is the group of Italian Renaissance paintings, among them several by Leonardo da Vinci. Over the years that the museum had been open to the public, the holdings were significantly enriched by acquisitions made for the monarchy by several cardinals and by Napoleon. Among its greatest treasures were two of the most famous sculptures of the ancient world: the Victory of Samothrace, Venus de Milo, and Leonardo’s famous portrait, Mona Lisa.
During the war in the 1940s, protection of all of the Louvre’s priceless masterpieces was effected by their removal to secret depositories outside Paris. Claude Gagnon had been instrumental in the movement of much of the artwork outside of Paris and, once the war had ended, he had been appointed one of the seven curatorial positions at the museum. In 1950, Claude was elevated to the position of Directeur Generale at the Louvre, the highest position in the museum.
Françoise was added to the Department of Paintings, considered by many scholars the most important in the world, and including several thousand works of the various European schools. Its enormous collection of French paintings ranged from the Middle Ages to the early nineteenth century. Françoise was to spend nearly a month becoming familiar with each painting in the gallery in preparation for the first guided gallery tour set to begin in August of that year.
As a result of her exposure to dealing with tourists and other local visitors to the Paris area during her stay with the bus tour company, Françoise was a natural in cheerily escorting groups through the vast art collections in her area. Claude was very watchful of Françoise and the progress she made in understanding the history of the old masters and their works. His sister Henriette had now passed on the watchful eye duties of Françoise to Claude and, as the years passed, Claude could only hope that someday his own daughter would end up like Francoise.
By 1956, Françoise had been elevated to the position of Director of the Department of Paintings and had assumed much greater responsibilities than she could have imagined. Her parents visited her often but the vastness of the galleries tended to tire them easily each time they came. Françoise could see the weariness in her father’s eyes, but he always glowed in her presence.
Ahmad Maurier was the only son of King Fatam of Khatamori. Throughout his young life, Ahmad had been educated not only in the ways of his country, but also in the history of western civilizations and customs. King Fatam believed strongly that it was important to understand the ways of other cultures of the world if you planned on dealing with those nations. Khatamori, as an oil-rich country, sold much oil to European countries. Amhad, now aged thirty-nine and still unmarried, was continuing his education of European culture by agreeing to evaluate the king’s own art collection at the palace in Banra. In his own mind, Ahmad did not see the merits of knowing the real value of such artwork since the king could buy whatever artwork he chose to regardless of price. To appease his father, however, Ahmad agreed to a month-long journey to the Louvre in Paris where Claude Gagnon would assist Ahmad in evaluating techniques of artwork. Claude had asked Françoise to assist him in the several private audiences granted to Ahmad for tutoring at the museum, all for a hefty price to the museum, of course. Additionally, in view of Françoise’s extensive knowledge of Parisian sites, Claude had offered the museum’s assistance to the prince to include landmarks within Paris. Since Françoise was in charge of the Louvre’s painting displays, coupled with her touring capabilities, she was the natural choice for the task, in Claude’s mind.