by Katie Penryn
I remembered Dubois had said he would visit Madame Tidot first thing and tell her. The town grapevine had lost no time in bruiting the sad news abroad.
“Yes, I had heard. The mayor has asked me to carry out a private investigation. Would you mind telling me if you were surprised to hear Tidot was in the flat above his bakery at the time?”
“To tell the truth, yes and no. He was expected at the conference and I looked out for him but never saw him. On the other hand, he had hinted to me that he would be late as he had work to do for a grand occasion. He did sometimes stay over in the flat if he had work to do.”
“Yes, your wife told us that.”
“He was a good friend and business colleague. You don’t want to believe the rumors about us being bitter professional rivals because it just wasn’t so. We had agreed long ago that he made the best choux pastry and I made the best croissants.”
Felix edged forward to join in the conversation. “You’ll miss him, I guess.”
“Oh yes. We used to meet regularly in the bar up the street after work and tell each other our troubles.”
He laughed. “You know what they say about a trouble shared is a trouble halved. I helped him through the bad patch when he couldn’t decide what to do about his old mother. She had never got on with his wife so there was no chance that his wife would agree to take the old lady in as she needed more help and attention.”
“We met Tidot’s mother in her retirement home. Nice place with beautiful gardens.”
Brioche laughed again. “To hear his mother talk you would have thought it was the Bastille. She did not want to give up her independence and move in there. Feisty old lady. A retired school principal and used to having her own way.”
“Did they get on, her and Tidot?”
“Oh yes, she’ll be devastated when she hears he’s dead. I must take my wife to visit her. She’ll be feeling vulnerable and lonely.”
“That’s a kind thought.”
Brioche turned aside and brushed away a tear. “It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”
“And his wife?” asked Felix. “Any problems there?”
Brioche’s friendly face darkened with a scowl. “That’s not for me to say and I would suggest it’s none of your business.”
“Felix is only asking the questions that have to be answered if we are to get to the bottom of Tidot’s murd—”
“Murder,” Brioche burst out. “No one has said anything about murder.”
“I’m afraid they will because it was murder. The explosion was set deliberately. Can you think of anyone who would want to murder Tidot?”
“Absolutely not. Everyone liked him and this is a quiet small town. We don’t have murders here.”
He was so distressed I didn’t like to remind him there had been one only two weeks earlier.
Brioche filled a bag with our breakfast croissants. “Do you want your usual three baguettes?”
“Please.”
As he took them down from the stack, he paused for a moment. “You might want to check out Tidot’s younger brother, Laurent. A bit of a wastrel.”
He passed the baguettes to Felix and added, “But I can’t believe even he would want to murder his brother.”
“Why do you say even he?”
“I know Tidot had some trouble with him but what I don’t know.”
I paid Brioche and thanked him for his help, asking him to let us know if he thought of anything.
*
“What did you make of that?” I asked Felix as we walked back to the house.
“Another suspect: the brother.”
“But brothers don’t kill each other.”
“Have you forgotten about Cain and Abel?”
I sighed. “All right, we’ll check him out. But after breakfast we’ll visit Madame Beatrice Tidot again. See if finding out her husband is dead and was murdered has reminded her of anything that could be useful.”
*
We had to put off our visit to Madame Tidot because Audrey found she had nothing to prepare for lunch. She asked me to pop up to the Esplanade and buy some steak from our butcher, Monsieur Faux-Filet, or Georges as he insists I call him.
It was almost time for him to close for lunch so the more diligent of his customers had been and gone by the time Felix, Jimbo and I reached his shop with Zig, Zag and little Piffle. As usual we tied the dogs up at the rail outside the shop and left them to drool over the delicious smells coming out of the door. I was hoping their presence would lead to a generous gift of shin bones for them.
“Come in, come in,” Georges said coming out onto the pavement to greet us. “Whisper has it that the mayor has asked you to investigate what everyone is now saying is Tidot’s murder.”
“That’s true,” I said as I followed him up to the display counter to see what was left at such a late hour. “Did you know Tidot well?”
“Of course, I knew him as one knows a fellow shopkeeper, and we did go to the same school, but he and Brioche were two years ahead of me. We weren’t great friends.”
He looked over my shoulder as someone came bustling into the shop and edged past me to the counter. “Do you mind if I push in, I’m in a hurry.”
It was Sean Morrison, the carpenter we had met at Tidot’s on Saturday evening and had interviewed the day before.
As I moved aside Georges said to Morrison, “You knew Tidot well, didn’t you? You were in the same class.”
“I was. He was good to me. He knew I was having a hard time finding work, so he took me on to do a minor refurbish of his shop.”
“What can I do for you? Madame Munro is waiting.”
“Just half a dozen of your Toulouse sausages.”
Georges cut six off the long string hanging up behind him, tucked them into a bag and handed them to Morrison.
As Morrison left the shop, George asked, “And for you, madame?”
“Not faux filet today. Have you a good piece of bavette?”
“And some bones for the dogs?”
I nodded.
Georges jerked his head at the doorway. “Funny one that one. So short of money and yet he always had the latest gear when we were kids. As soon as he turned fifteen, he bought himself a brand new scooter.”
“You sure it wasn’t his parents who bought it for him?”
“Absolutely, He bragged about how he had saved up all his life. A bit of a tall story, if you ask me. Of course, we were all dead jealous. The most we could hope for was a second or third hand one.”
We took our purchases, collected the dogs and hurried home so Audrey could cook the steak in time for lunch.
On the way Jimbo asked, “Do you think that Morrison is selling drugs?”
Felix tousled Jimbo’s hair in the way he hates. “I doubt he’s selling now, if he’s as short of money as he says.”
“He came across as genuinely fond of Tidot, but we have to remember he was the last one in the shop before the explosion,” I said.
Felix nodded. “He’s already on our list and he doesn’t have an alibi for the night.”
*
Felix and I made the return visit to Tidot’s wife on our own. Sam was anxious to clear a few more loads away to the recycling center with Jimbo to help him, so we didn’t take him with us this time.
“It seems heartless to be interviewing her on the day she’s been told not only is her husband dead but the police think he was murdered,” I said to Felix as we turned into her drive.
“Penzi, we have to do this. There may be some small thing she’s remembered. She will want her husband’s killer found and punished.”
“I’m not sure what I can ask her that I didn’t ask her last time.”
“You’ll think of something, that lawyer’s mind of yours is busy working away behind the scenes trying to slot everything into place.”
I laughed and wished that it were true.
*
Madame Tidot’s friend, Sophie, came out to meet us and show u
s into the living room.
I asked her how Beatrice Tidot was coping with the news.
“See for yourself,” she answered as she opened the door and ushered us in. “You saw what a state she was in last time you came and at that time she thought her husband was being accused of fraud. Now she’s been told he’s dead.”
Beatrice Tidot’s face was pale and drawn. The dark circles under her eyes were even deeper now, almost black, and her eyes bloodshot with weeping. She made a vain effort to stand and greet us but fell back into the chair like a rag doll.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Madame Tidot,” I began. “But we do need to ask you a few more questions in the light of recent developments.”
She gave me the ghost of a smile and nodded her thanks.
Sophie knelt down beside Beatrice and put her arm around her. “Do you have to? The police were here for hours, rifling through her husband’s belongings and interrogating her.”
“We won’t be long, I promise.” I looked across at Beatrice doing my best to look friendly and unintimidating. “Is there any little thing you’ve remembered that could help us? Anything about your husband’s habits or his friends. Arguments?”
“We never argued,” she replied.
“Not with you, madame. With other people? Disputes with neighbors. Prangs with the car? Anything that could cause someone to harbor a grudge?”
“I can’t think of anything. Everyone liked Jerome.”
“And his habits? Did you always spend the evening together? Did he ever go out for a boys’ night out? Go fishing? Anything like that?”
“The only time we were apart except for when he was working was Saturday nights. He often had set pieces to make and decorate for a party or a banquet on the Sunday. I think I’ve told you this before?”
I nodded. “So even if he hadn’t gone to the conference you would have expected him to spend the night at the flat above the bakery?”
“Yes.”
“Was this general knowledge?”
“How can I know that?” she replied. “But I don’t see why anyone else would know.”
Felix held up his hand to stop me and turned back to Madame Tidot. “I understand the police will have taken your husband’s bank statements and phone bills, but did you have a joint bank account?”
“No. I have one for the housekeeping but my husband had sole use of the main account.”
“Same bank?” asked Felix.
She nodded.
“Do you happen to have the number of his account?”
“I’m sorry I don’t.”
“Would you mind telling me his full name?” asked Felix.
“Jerome Charles Tidot.”
“Thank you. And do you have the number of his mobile phone?”
She fished around in her handbag for her phone, opened it up and read the number out to Felix.
Sophie stood up to indicate it was time for us to leave. Felix shook his head at me to say he couldn’t think of anything else we could ask Beatrice.
We left her in the hands of her friend Sophie saying we would do our utmost to bring her husband’s murderer to justice quickly.
*
“What did you think?” I asked Felix as we drove home.
“Her distress is genuine. I don’t think she was involved. Do you?”
I shook my head. “Poor lady. It’s a major setback that the police have taken his bank statements. It’s more than Dubois’s job’s worth to tell us what they find out. That Fer-de-Lance will see to that.”
Felix stared at me so intensely that I took my eyes off the road to look at him. “What?”
“Do I have to remind you about my profession?”
I couldn’t resist teasing him. “You mean bodyguard?” I asked him with a straight face.
He didn’t say anything for a moment then he laughed. “You nearly got me there. No, of course not. I mean my hacking expertise. I don’t have his account number, but with the name of the bank and his full name it won’t take me long to hack in and find out if there have been any irregularities in the period leading up to his death. And I’ll have a look at his phone records as well.”
“Ah, Felix the cat is not only strong and brave but clever too.”
“I’ll get onto to it as soon as I can, but first we have to come up with some protection for you. You’re going to be no use as a crime solver if the witchdoctor gets to you first.”
I slowed down outside Les Dragons and parked the car. “Cup of tea first, then I’ll take you to see the mirror I was telling you about.”
Chapter 19
We drank our tea in a kitchen filled with the aroma of baking. Gwinny and Audrey had been busy. Sam and Jimbo left with Gwinny’s car and the trailer full of junk for the recycling center giving Felix and me the opportunity of investigating the mirror without anyone around. I led him down the left-hand side of the interior of the brocante along the row of paintings and mirrors propped up against the wall.
When we reached the magic mirror, I stopped and laid my hand on it, saying, “This is the one.”
Felix didn’t answer me. He was standing right behind me. His reflection looked back at me blankly and his brows rose in disbelief.
“Penzi,” he said. “I can’t see it. It’s nothing but an old door to me. I had no idea I was so limited. I thought that because I was a supernatural being, I would have the same powers as you — not the spells of course because that’s particular to your profession as a witch — but all the rest.”
I looked from him to the mirror and back again. He wasn’t kidding. He really couldn’t see the mirror, but his distress was plain for me to see. I spun round and gave him a hug, a friendly sisterly hug.
“Felix, I can’t do everything you can do. I can’t shift into another being.”
“You might be able to if you used a spell.”
“Possibly, but it’s not part of my innate ability, is it? We all have our specializations, so please don’t feel bad about this. All I can say is it is a mirror and the fact that you can’t see it and I can must mean it’s magic. But do you think it’s the way that horrid witchdoctor is getting into our house?”
“Have a good look at the frame. See if there’s a clue there.”
While I searched the ornate gilded edging of the mirror, Felix crouched down and inspected the floor in front of it.
“Ah,” he said holding up something in his hand. “Here we are. Just as I thought.”
“What?” I asked peering down at it. “Oh that’s disgusting. It’s a dried out scorpion’s claw. It must have broken off when he came through.”
“Now we know his point of entry we can fix it.”
“We can but try. Let’s check out the Book of Spells now while the house is quiet.”
*
“First things first,” said Felix as I joined him in the study with the Book of Spells. “First protection around you and then we’ll see about closing off the portal.”
I opened the leather covered tome closing my eyes against the prismatic burst of bright light as I did so.
Felix’s finger hovered over the list of contents. “I’m looking for a spell of protection.”
“Nothing here,” he said as his finger reached the foot of the page. “Turn the page please.”
He ran his finger down the second page. “Ah, this might do. It’s an abjuration spell.”
“Abjuration as in to banish, to fend off, to deny?”
“There you go with your lawyer’s Latin. This one is called semper tuens. Do you know what that means?”
“Literally it means always protecting.”
Felix looked up from the book. “There’s one problem. Unlike the other spells you’ve learned so far, this one needs special ingredients.”
“Such as?”
“You have to stand inside a circle of silver dust when you cast the spell.”
“How far will the protection reach?”
“It will give you a protection for a radius of
three feet.”
“That’s not much. I could be lying in bed and he could still stand at the foot of my bed staring at me. That would be creepy even if he couldn’t touch me.”
We ran through the rest of the index together but we didn’t find a more powerful spell. Anyway, we had the problem of finding the silver dust. We had plenty of silver in the brocante but no silver dust.
“So what do we do?” I asked Felix.
“Find a spell to grind up the silver of course. Here’s one. You’ll have to learn that one first then we’ll do the protection spell.”
“That’s a lot to learn and I’m tired after conducting all those interviews today.”
“Penzi, you can do it. If you feel yourself drifting off just remember that evil creature looming over your bed.”
“All right. We can use the goblet we took with us to the High Council of the Guild of White Witches last time. It’s in that cupboard behind you.”
Felix reached it down and placed it on top of the desk. We crossed our fingers to prevent the spell from going off half-cocked before we were ready and I bent to the task of learning the words and symbols from Felix. When we were ready I uncrossed my fingers, closed my eyes and cast the spell. Pooft! My eyes flew open and there before me lay a pile of silver dust. Magic.
Felix took care to measure out a circle on the floor using the ruler off the desk. We didn’t dare sprinkle the dust because there wasn’t enough of it to waste. We had to brush it off the desk in small amounts and place it carefully on the marked circle.
“Now for the protection spell.”
It was the most complicated spell I had learned so far and at one point I thought I would have to give up because the mental energy required drained out of me fast.
Felix wouldn’t let me stop. “Think witchdoctor,” he said and when that didn’t boost me he reminded me of the stench and the rattling bones.
“All right, I’ve got it at last,” I said uncrossing my fingers and standing inside the circle.
I cast the spell. An acrid smell arose from the silver dust as it vaporized. I held my breath waiting for the magic to happen. When I opened my eyes a cylinder of pale apricot colored light surrounded me.
