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Authors: Jean-Luc Bannalec

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BOOK: Murder on Brittany Shores
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‘Go up to the front, it's not quite as loud there.'

The engine was idling, the water splashing out through the expel pipe.

Anjela Barrault went to the stern and opened up a sort of hatch in the railing with skilful movements. The group of divers had already come over.

Dupin positioned himself in the tapering point of the bow. Behind him lay the bleak, not very large (at high tide) Quignénec and the two little neighbouring islands that closed off the chamber in a south-easterly direction; in front of him, a breathtaking panorama of the whole archipelago. He took out his phone.

‘Riwal?'

‘I just tried you, chief, you had no reception again. Where are you?'

‘Has Le Menn turned up?'

‘No.'

‘What about the manhunt?'

‘The personal description has already gone out on all radio stations. We're pulling out all the stops. We've already spoken to his wife and had her tell us everything. Every ritual. Where he usually gets petrol, drinks coffee, buys his newspapers, everything … Bellec and a colleague are out checking those places right now.'

‘And his contact with the three dead men?'

‘His wife confirmed that he was Lefort's doctor. And that she remembers him being out with Lefort three or four times in the last year. The last time was at the
Transat Concarneau.
On the day of the regatta opening. In April.'

Dupin remembered it – especially because he couldn't find a parking place for days yet again – it was one of the big festivals in the town. Not as large or significant as the
Festival des Filets Bleus,
but still very big. In the days before the regatta opening, the town was one big fairground with colourful stands and stalls. All of the boats taking part were at the quays, the teams were introduced on signs – great heroes. Hundreds of little pennants adorned the streets of the town centre. You could feel the good mood. It was one of the toughest regattas in the world – from Concarneau, straight across the entire Atlantic to Saint-Barth; the special thing was that all participants were in the exact same boats, there was no advantage in resources, Riwal explained it in detail again every time, extensively: a
Figaro Bénéteau.

‘But his wife doesn't think they were really friends. In fact, sometimes he even distanced himself from Lefort.'

‘In what way?'

‘He didn't approve of Lefort's behaviour towards women. And recently they were in disagreement when it came to Lefort's new Glénan plans, his wife recalls.'

Interesting. Apparently nobody knew the plans apart from the town council, yet everyone was talking about them.

‘Did he have knowledge of these plans?'

‘His wife thinks he did, Lefort told him about them a few months ago, apparently.'

‘And what exactly did he tell him?'

‘She didn't know that.'

‘And why was her husband against them?'

‘She just knows that he considers them dubious from an ecological point of view.'

‘And his relationships with Konan and Pajot?'

‘She couldn't say whether he knew Konan and Pajot. If he did, then not well in any case. She said her husband has been very agitated since yesterday. She assumed it was due to the news of Lefort's death.'

‘Agitated in what way?'

‘He wasn't speaking much, she says, he kept standing up and walking around. Yesterday evening he tried to call someone many times, but he didn't get through. His wife didn't know who it was. Apparently, he was up extremely early today. At six o'clock. An hour earlier than usual.'

‘Hmmm.'

‘Anything else?'

‘No.'

‘I want to know who Le Menn has been on the phone to recently, we need the phone records for all of his lines.'

‘We'll need to claim that there is danger in delay on this one too. Otherwise we won't get it at this stage,' said Riwal.

‘Danger in delay, Riwal. Absolutely.'

‘Good. I've just received the report on the search of the three men's houses too. And the boats by the way. Nothing of note has been discovered yet. But we've removed all of their computer hard drives, we're analysing them now.'

‘And nothing on the boats? Maps, nautical maps? Nothing remarkable?'

‘No. Are we looking for anything in particular?'

‘Tell them I want to see all nautical maps if they find any. I want to know whether one, two or all three went repeatedly to particular coordinates at sea recently. No idea how we are meant to find that out. We'll need some luck.'

‘Everyone navigates electronically these days…'

‘I'm up to speed.'

‘You're genuinely thinking about a treasure hunt?'

‘I'm thinking about everything that seems possible and impossible.'

‘If there's a sunken ship involved, which the three men discovered, and if nobody was meant to know anything about it, then they will have been extremely careful.'

A loud bang made Dupin jump. Anjela Barrault had slammed the hatch in the railing shut and was already on her way back to the wheelhouse. There was a considerable hustle and bustle at the stern, the divers were in the process of stowing their things underneath the narrow wooden seats.

‘I'll be in touch again very soon, Riwal. I'm on Drénec.'

‘What are you doing on Drénec? Did you not want to speak to Anjela Barrault?'

‘I'm on her boat.'

‘You're on a boat again?'

‘I'll be in touch, Riwal.'

Dupin had almost hung up.

‘Wait.'

‘Chief?'

‘Has Kadeg found outanything about this dispute between the former mayor and Konan, regarding salvaging rights?'

‘Bellec made enquiries at the mairie. No documents about any kind of incident were found. And even Monsieur Tanguy didn't know what Muriel Lefort might have meant by that story.'

Dupin sighed deeply.

‘Speak to you later, Riwal.'

The diesel engine ramped back up, the low vibrations began again, Anjela Barrault put it into gear and the boat slowly, then more and more clearly, picked up speed.

Dupin groped his way back to the wheelhouse.

‘Did you get reception?'

‘Yes.'

‘It's always the luck of the draw out here.'

‘What do you know about the business links between
Medimare
and the
Institut Marine,
Madame Barrault? About conflicts that Leussot and other researchers have with the institute?'

‘Nothing really. Just that Leussot and Lefort got into a fight once and it was about that amongst other things. And that the Director of the institute is a nasty character.'

‘A fight? Leussot was in a fight with Lefort? An actual, violent altercation?'

‘In front of the
Quatre Vents.
About a year ago. Alcohol was probably involved. But that's as much as I know.'

Her gaze seemed more mischievous to Dupin than before.

‘Ask Solenn Nuz.'

‘Why her?'

‘She knows – the most.'

‘And this is generally known? This issue of the fight?'

Nobody had mentioned it yet. Everyone out here only seemed to say what suited them in their respective situations.

‘I'd say so.'

Dupin again pondered how he could manage to make notes in this position, he needed both arms for stability. He gave up.

‘What's your relationship to Monsieur Leussot?'

The question did not seem unwelcome in the slightest.

‘Let's put it this way: it was once – clearer, but it hasn't been like that for a long time. We're friends. Most of the time, anyway.'

‘I see. Is Leussot also a treasure hunter?'

‘Even he definitely takes a look, if something is lying on the seafloor. He's always out on the Atlantic. He has the best of everything when it comes to equipment. The latest technology. Even if it has other functions. Nobody can record the seafloor as precisely as he can.'

Dupin hadn't thought of that but it made sense.

‘Is that his boat he goes out in?'

‘No, it belongs to the institute. But he's been using it all the time recently.'

‘Do you know it?'

‘I've never been on it. But Tanguy has, the two of them know each other well.'

Dupin's mobile rang and he took it out with his left hand. He looked at the number, taking great care not to relax his wedged-in elbows. He knew the number from yesterday or today, but couldn't place it.

‘Excuse me.'

Now he did ease out of his safety position, walking cautiously to the bow.

‘Hello?'

‘Muriel Lefort here. Can you hear me, Monsieur le Commissaire?'

‘I can hear you, Madame Lefort.'

‘Where are you? It's terribly loud where you are, I can hardly make out what you're saying.'

‘I'm investigating right now.'

The boat bobbed strangely to and fro, in quick, short movements. For no apparent reason – nothing could be detected at sea which could explain this. It was extremely surprising how diverse and perfectly distinct the unpleasant movements of a boat could be; by this point, Dupin felt he was in a position to formulate a small typology of these movements: there was a rocking, a teetering, a bobbing, swerving, swaying, lurching, wavering …

‘There are some – things I'd like to discuss with you in person.'

‘Same here. It would be best if I came by later. I'll call you again.'

He desperately needed a coffee. Especially after this second adventure at sea.

‘Great. Then I'll expect your call.'

Dupin hesitated for a moment.

‘Madame Lefort. I have one quick question. Do you happen to know whether your brother was out at sea particularly often recently?'

‘He was always out at sea a lot.'

‘I mean…'

‘You mean was he hunting for treasure?'

‘Yes, that's exactly it.'

‘People are saying you think that's a possibility.'

Dupin wanted to ask who was saying what, but left it.

‘We are looking into all possibilities.'

‘As I said: Lucas has been dreaming about treasure since we were children. Oh God. But I'm not able to give you an answer. I would definitely be the last person he'd have told.'

‘I understand. See you later then.'

She had hung up.

At the same moment, Dupin's phone rang again. He took it away from his ear and glanced quickly at the number. Nolwenn.

‘Yes?'

‘The Prefect wanted to have it confirmed personally by you that the large manhunt operation for Le Menn is of “extraordinary relevance”. I've explicitly confirmed everything. You should just know that that's why I called you. An hour ago.'

‘I … good.'

‘Are you making progress?'

‘I don't know. There are lots of figures involved.'

‘You don't have to drink the whole sea, even in this case.'

Nolwenn's untiring use of Breton sayings always reassured him – and he was very happy to hear Nolwenn's voice anyway (and, of course, to know that he didn't need to drink the whole sea).

‘Do we have access to the three men's accounts? It's important.'

‘I think we will very soon. You're quite difficult to understand, Monsieur le Commissaire, where are you right now?'

‘On a boat, with Anjela Barrault.'

‘You poor thing, on a boat, yet again?'

‘Exactly.'

Dupin was now deeply regretting that everyone knew about his little boat phobia.

‘Last week there was a big article about Anjela Barrault in the
Télégramme.
She is planning to win back the world championship title this summer.'

‘The world championship title?'

The mobile was clamped to his ear again.

‘She is a freediver. She has already dived the deepest twice. No other woman has reached a greater depth,' Nolwenn broke off briefly. ‘You know what a freediver is?'

‘Possibly. A kind of – diver.'

Anjela Barrault had mentioned it herself, but Dupin could not in all honesty have said any more than that.

‘Diving without oxygen tanks, as deep as possible. A tough sport.'

Dupin had vaguely heard of it.

‘And she is the world champion? Anjela Barrault?'

‘A Breton woman. She was a yoga teacher actually. A very attractive woman. Absolutely stunning. She wants to make it to the hundred-metre mark in the summer.'

‘A hundred metres?'

‘A Breton woman. She will manage it.'

‘I see. Nolwenn?'

‘Yes, Monsieur le Commissaire?'

‘On the boat this lunchtime … we saw dolphins.'

Dupin didn't know how he was getting onto this subject now, which had no place here. It was probably because of the diving.

‘Interesting animals. But be careful.'

‘Excuse me?'

‘Do you not remember Jean Floch? The dolphin who deliberately tore fishing nets and attacked and sank rowing boats, so that the anglers were tossed into the sea? Four years ago, you were still in the capital then, but it went national across all the media. An aggressive maverick, spreading anxiety and fear along the Breton coast. Like a rabid dog. Three hundred kilograms!'

That sounded brutal. Dupin had always had a different impression of dolphins.

‘A miracle that he didn't leave any widows or orphans behind. Swimming bans were imposed everywhere in southern Finistère. Then they drove him away with noise. Yes, sexually mature males can sometimes display extreme dominant behaviour and are excluded from the group.'

‘They were all very clearly in the group. I mean: it was most definitely a group, not a single animal.'

Dupin had also wanted to say that the aggressive male was certainly the absolute exception and that overall they were peaceable creatures. After all, that was the very thing that they were famous for of all things – but then he left it. This was an absurd conversation in any case.

BOOK: Murder on Brittany Shores
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