by steve higgs
‘Hey, bro,’ he answered.
‘Were you successful?’ I asked.
‘Damned skippy. I’m on my way back now.’
‘Top man. I’ll see you soon. You know where to find me.’
I disconnected and called Amanda, tapping my foot while I waited for her to answer, but it rang through to her voice mail. Disappointed, I slipped my phone back into a pocket. I would see her soon enough I hoped. They were doing their best to get the cable car working and had lots of reasons why they wanted it operational that far exceeded delivering Tempest’s girlfriend.
The dogs continued scampering back and forth searching for something to sniff that wasn’t snow. They didn’t find much but were enjoying the fresh air and freedom after a morning cooped up in my room. I walked them back to the hotel, got a nod from the lady on reception and a round of applause as people now inside the hotel recognised me from outside. I was the man that had caught the Yeti, even though it was no such thing.
I flipped a mental coin and went to the bar for a coffee. It was lunch time and my breakfast was a long way behind me now. Nervous energy was balling inside me and I probably needed a stiff drink rather than a shot of caffeine that would jack me up even more. When the barman appeared, I ordered the coffee anyway; I needed a clear head for what was to come so for the next thirty minutes, I ran through the facts in my head and ate a sandwich.
When I heard the funeral party returning, I sent a group message to Big Ben and Jagjit and Hilary. I had already asked too much of them in the last couple of days and would need to find a suitable way of rewarding them for their help. Were it not for them, had I come alone, I would most likely have been killed by the Yeti on the first morning.
I gathered my things and roused the dogs from their slumber beneath my table to lead them through to the private lounge set aside for the wake. A sign on the door advised all that a private function was taking place and that attendance was strictly by invitation. I ignored that, slipping inside and finding a large high-backed chair that I placed in the centre of a circle of chairs I formed. It was time to play the part of the ring master.
‘What are you doing here, Mr Michaels?’ asked Mrs Caron as she came into the room on her husband’s arm. ‘This room is reserved for my daughter’s wake.’
‘Is everything alright?’ Hubert asked, possibly picking up on the nervous energy I felt.
Others filed into the room behind him, Francois in his uniform, the hotel manager Michel Masson, Priscille Peran being escorted by Gils Chevalier and half a dozen other guests that must be close to the family.
‘Please, come in. Take a seat. I’m afraid the time has come to explain what has been happening here.’
Hubert stared at me. ‘Mr Michaels, I don’t think this is the time. Please leave us to grieve now and I will see you in my office later today.’
‘I’m afraid not, Hubert. What I have to say cannot wait. Nor would you want it to.’ The stream of people entering the room had stopped and they were all milling around now confused by the unexpected turn of events. I indicated to the chairs. ‘Please, this will not take long.’
When no one moved, I added, ‘This is to do with what happened to Marie, Hubert. The deaths this week were not accidents, they were murders.’
On using the M word, several heads shot up. Mrs Caron’s hand flew to her face in shock. ‘What are you saying? Someone murdered my daughter.’
I didn’t answer the question but indicated to the chairs again. In stunned silence, Hubert led his wife into the circle and took a seat. She sat next to him as others too claimed chairs. Francois remained at the back of the room, looking immoveable, his handgun visible and exposed on his right hip. With forced calm, I scanned around the faces now looking intently at me then glanced to the back of the room where I could see Jagjit and Hilary lurking.
At my nod they came into the room. ‘We have some additional guests,’ I announced as Gerard Chevalier strode purposefully into the room.
Hubert reacted as I expected he would: with volcanic eruption. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ he thundered, getting to his feet even as I stepped in to block his way. ‘Chevalier I warned you never to set foot in my hotel.’
‘That’s because you don’t want me to see how run down it is,’ Gerard countered.
I put my face in front of Hubert’s. ‘Sit down.’ The tone of my voice was enough to distract him so as he looked at me, I said, ‘Please. This is necessary.’
‘Why was I summoned, Mr Michaels?’ demanded Gerard. ‘Who are you to threaten me.’
‘I’m the one with the answers, Monsieur Chevalier. You are here because you are concerned I might know more than you think I can. Will you please take a seat?’
Gerard Chevalier didn’t move. Not until Francois cleared his throat that is. Then he spun around. ‘I’ve heard enough. You can’t keep me here.’ But his path was blocked by Francois as the ageing official prevented the younger man from leaving.
‘Take a seat please, Gerard, there’s a good fellow,’ he said.
Grumpily, Gerard gritted his teeth but said nothing as he crossed the room and sat down. He found himself opposite Hubert and his wife, and each party was trying to out stare the other, raw hatred the only emotion showing.
‘Thank you for indulging me,’ I started. ‘I want to start by explaining to everyone how it was that I came to be here. I solve cases where my clients either believe they have something unexplained happening that may have a paranormal explanation, or they are the victim of a hoax designed to hide another crime by making it appear that there is a paranormal explanation. In this case, a creature being passed off as a Yeti was used to kill three people. You all know now that it wasn’t a Yeti, yes?’ A ripple of nods confirmed that the news of the bear had reached them. I continued, ‘Instead the creature trapped outside is a polar bear, captured as a cub and trained through pain to obey its owner. Horns, tusks and other enhancements were added to alter its appearance and it has spent its life as a circus attraction in Russia until it was brought here as part of an elaborate ruse.’
My audience were silent, most of them staring at me in rapt fascination. Not all though, there were one or two that looked nervous now.
I picked up my narrative again. ‘I came here to prove that the Yeti was nothing more than a man in a suit and I will admit that it shook me when I came face to face with the bear. I had a lucky escape, as did Priscille, isn’t that right Priscille?’
Suddenly in the spotlight, Priscille gulped. She opened her mouth to speak but I waved her to silence.
‘I’ll come back to that in a little while, Priscille.’ She exchanged a glance with Gils and looked at the exit, but she stayed where she was as I started talking again. ‘I have a research assistant back in my office in England. She’s a little unusual but she is great at finding things out. It didn’t take her long to discover that the two men killed by the Yeti during the storm on Wednesday night were involved in a scandal with Marie. There were some unsavoury photographs.’ No one said anything, but Mrs Caron buried her face in her hands dramatically and Hubert looked like he was about to get angry at me for bringing the subject up at his daughter’s wake. ‘Their untimely deaths could have been put down to misadventure, but I found rope burns around their wrists where they had been tied up. They were fed to the bear, you see.’
A sharp intake of breath reverberated around the room.
‘They were murdered and I wondered at the time if Hubert might himself be involved.’
‘What?’ he exclaimed, his shock at being under suspicion almost causing him to rise.
I fixed him with a smile. ‘The two men abused and embarrassed your daughter and brought shame to your family. They then had the audacity to stay here, wandering around in plain sight, their presence a permanent reminder of the scandal. No one would blame you for harbouring a grudge, but tell me, was it you or your wife who was most upset and embarrassed?’ I locked eyes with him, watching for the tell-tale sign that would
tell me if I had guessed right or wrong. I saw it, brief though it was as he quickly glanced at his wife. I continued before he could ask the question I could see forming on his lips. ‘There is good news here though, Hubert, although I doubt you will find it pleasing.’
His eyebrows had involuntarily risen with curiosity. ‘My research assistant discovered that Marie Caron’s credit card was still being used.’
Hubert stared at his wife. ‘You said you cancelled it.’
‘That it was being used was not nearly as interesting as who was using it.’ I paused for effect before finishing with, ‘The culprit, was her.’ I turned and pointed at Priscille Peran.
‘What?’ Hubert’s reaction came out surprised and angry at the same time.
‘It was what the credit card was being used to pay for that solved the case in many ways.’ I was facing Priscille now, piercing her with my gaze. ‘How bad were the cuts to your face, Priscille? Why don’t you take the bandages off and show us?’
‘Now see here,’ shouted Gils rising to his feet.
I ignored him even though he was now standing between me and Priscille. She looked smaller than ever as she tried to shrink into her seat. ‘How about the sunglasses, Priscille? Why don’t you take them off, just for a moment? You have brown eyes, right? Not bright blue ones. That is the eye colour Marie had.’
Slowly, and with an unhappy smile, Priscille reached up and removed her sunglasses. Her head was bowed, looking down at the carpet, but everyone in the room was waiting for her to raise her head. As she did so she locked eyes with Hubert and said, ‘Hello, Daddy.’
This time the collective gasp was accompanied by squeals of shock and Mrs Caron fainted against her husband’s arm.
I focused my attention on her. ‘That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think, Mrs Caron. After all, you falsely identified her body, so you knew she was alive.’
Hubert leaped from his chair causing his wife to spill on the floor. ‘What does he mean Elizabeth?’ Poor Hubert’s head was swinging from his very much alive daughter to his treacherous wife unable to decide which to look at.
‘I’m afraid, Monsieur Caron, that you are the intended victim of an elaborate ruse that was intended to end with your death.’
‘What?’
‘Your daughter faked her own death so that she could operate unimpeded while she plotted against you. She has an appointment at a plastic surgeon in Paris next week where I imagine she plans to have her face altered slightly so that she is not instantly recognisable as Marie Caron. It was when I found a photograph of her graduating class that I realised just how similar Marie and Priscille look. Hair, height, and body shape are all very close. Only her eyes would have given her away but your wife identified your daughter’s body and no one questioned her opinion. Marie needed to stay close by to make sure the rest of her plan came to pass but had to hide in plain sight. She was well known in Harvarti having grown up here, where in contrast Priscille was new here and not known by many people.’ I turned to face Marie as I said, ‘I couldn’t work out why you were both so far from the path that day. There was no reason to venture that far into the woods unless you were luring her there to kill her. Did you befriend her with this plan in mind? Or was her family’s fall from grace just a happy coincidence that played into your hands?’
Marie replied coolly, ‘How is it that I am supposed to have controlled a giant bear, if we are to believe that is what it is?’
‘A good question which I shall answer shortly.’ I paused and changed tack, ‘I overheard you and Gils arguing in the Imperial hotel’s underground parking garage last night. He was upset that you had used the bear to kill Remy and Andre, no doubt claiming that it was unnecessary and brought risk you could do without. You didn’t care about that though, did you? Though, of course, you were not alone in your desire for revenge.’ I switched my attention back to my client. ‘Your wife was the outraged party, was she not?’
‘Hubert don’t listen to this fool,’ Elizabeth Caron demanded. ‘He is just spewing nonsense.’
I waited for her to finish before continuing. ‘Your wife, I suspect, was the instigator. Whose idea was it for you to ski the Augille du Rigardi this morning, Hubert?’ I watched as his face filled with disbelief. ‘The Yeti was being kept in the maintenance building under tower nine of the chair lift. Had I not captured it this morning, I believe you would have been led into a trap. You see, I really do hate to burden you with yet more bad news, but your wife is having an affair,’ I paused for effect then stuck out an accusing finger, ‘with him.’
‘Really?’ asked Hubert, genuinely sounding nonplussed. ‘Jacques from the post office?’
I lifted a single eyebrow and checked my finger to see if the direction I was pointing could possibly be misconstrued. Jacques was in the next row of chairs and his mouth was hanging open in mute horror as the woman next to him, undoubtedly his wife, lined up a fist and whacked him in the face.
‘No, no, no. Not him,’ I explained taking two paces forward to point again. ‘Him.’
This time there was no ambiguity as my finger was all but touching Michel Masson’s chest.
‘It’s a lie,’ Mrs Caron screamed.
‘Of course, it’s a lie,’ said Hubert’s hotel manager as he rose to his feet. ‘I am gay.’
Hubert didn’t know which way to look. His face was murderous, and I could see he was struggling to keep himself in check. Sensing the danger, his wife scrambled out of his grasp, crossing the room to reach Michel.
‘The gay claim is getting harder to defend, Michel,’ I pointed out. Fixing him with a look, I said, ‘Your advances, intended no doubt to allay suspicion, had the opposite effect. Big Ben thought there was something off about you from the very start, though I will admit my money was on Gerard Chevalier as Mrs Caron’s lover.’
‘What?’ said Gerard, he was just as thrown as Hubert by the revelations.
‘Hubert, I’m afraid a conspiracy was underway to remove you. I thought for a while that your rival Gerard Chevalier was at the centre of it. It was clear the two of you both bore grudges and he stood to gain the most from your demise. It was your daughter though, determined to pursue her relationship with a man you forbade her to see and Gils himself, who, together with your wife believed the Constantine hotel would flourish under new management. She recruited her mother, no doubt the pair of them cooking up the idea for her to seduce Michel because they needed him to hide the transactions that would incriminate you.’
‘Err, what?’ asked Michel, the question aimed at Elizabeth Caron.
‘Perhaps I have that wrong, Michel,’ I admitted. ‘I cannot prove it unequivocally, but I suspect you were never part of the long-term plan. You will remember that you gave me your key card as part of your fake gay act. Well, this afternoon, while most of us were up the mountain rescuing the bear and most of the people in this room were preparing for the funeral, my resourceful honeymooning friends, Jagjit and Alice were watching what was going on here. One of the things they saw was Mrs Caron letting herself into your room. She had something with her when she went in and she didn’t have it when she came out. An hour ago, I quickly searched your room, looking for places that someone might hide something if they didn’t want it to be found until the right time.’
The colour was draining from Mrs Caron’s face as I unveiled all that I knew.
‘Beneath the dressing table drawers, where no one but the police would ever look, is a small bag containing blood-soaked ropes.’ Michel Masson’s face snapped around to stare at Mrs Caron. ‘DNA testing will reveal the blood belongs to the two young men you helped to murder at Mrs Caron’s request. Won’t it, Elizabeth?’
‘You can prove nothing,’ she snapped.
With a nod of my head to accept what she said, I opened my mouth to continue but Michel Masson spoke first.
‘Why, Elizabeth?’ he asked, his voice sounding small and pathetic because he knew he had been duped.
When she didn’t speak, I
filled in the blanks. ‘You were a tool, Michel. You were necessary because she wanted you to distract me. That was why she insisted you pretend to be gay. That is how it happened, isn’t it?’ I saw the truth of it in his expression. ‘Once Hubert was dead though, she would want rid of you. I imagine her plan was to kill you. What’s one more body after all? So, the bloody ropes were nothing more than insurance should something go wrong.’
‘Why?’ cried Hubert, speaking for the first time in minutes, the question clearly aimed at his wife.
‘Because you are a fool, Hubert. You have ignored me and neglected your business so you could conduct a campaign of revenge against a man that hadn’t done anything to you. When your daughter fell in love with his son, you forbade her from seeing him. You gave us no choice.’
‘I’m leaving,’ announced Marie Caron getting to her feet, Gils rose with her but she didn’t get far.
Francois said, ‘Sit down, both of you,’ his hand hovering near the butt of his pistol as a silent threat.
Gils turned back to me, a haughty and confident grin on his face. ‘You can’t keep us here. What is it that we are supposed to have done? All I hear is conjecture. What evidence do you have to link this to any us of?’
‘I’m so glad you asked.’ I turned my head to the door and called loudly, ‘Ben.’
The door opened as Big Ben came through it. Dangling from one meaty hand was the Russian bloke from the room next to mine. His face looked like he had resisted Big Ben’s request to accompany him and learned that it was unwise to do so.
‘Any trouble?’ I asked.
He shrugged his giant shoulders, ‘Not really.’ I had left Big Ben up the mountain to lie in wait for the Russian. When I asked Jane to look for a circus act this morning, she had sent me a flier on which the unmistakeable face of the man next door was emblazoned. It was superimposed in front of the fearsome looking polar bear and above its head was the word йети – which my computer handily translated into Yeti. My confidence that Big Ben would subdue the man and bring him back to Harvarti on whatever transport he had been using, had of course proved accurate, so here he was.
