Loving Hands/Elegant Fingers: Two Inspector Monde Tales of Strange and Terrible Adventures (The Inspector Monde Mysteries)
Page 4
"And you think this was because of Lisa Madelaine?"
"Well Pierre, the butler, saw the family off and he said Lisa Madelaine wasn't with them. He thought she fled the house when the Commandant's advances became too intense. He told me he heard the Commandant calling out to her that night."
Two floors above them, the girl waited for someone to let her out of the room. She tapped on the table with her fingers. She had waited a long time; surely somebody would let her out soon?
The Inspector's conversation with the old man was interrupted by shouting. One of his fellow tourists was being bundled down the corridor by two security guards.
"I tell you there's a girl being harassed up there!" the tourist shouted. "She's running from someone. Let me help her."
Inspector Monde held up his credentials and stopped the guards. "I am an Inspector de Police. Can I assist?"
The young man pulled his arms free. "Thank the Lord. Somebody sensible at last. I saw a girl being chased by a man up on the second floor. When I went to help her, these idiots grabbed me."
Inspector Monde looked at the guards. The taller one on the right decided to be the spokesman. "There are private areas of the chateau the public are not allowed to go. This man crossed a barrier and was heading into one of those areas when we caught him."
The young man had been looking around while the guard spoke. He saw the painting behind Inspector Monde and became agitated.
"That's the girl, Inspector. The girl in the painting, that's the girl I saw."
Inspector Monde smiled in delighted anticipation. He had worried that nothing interesting was going to happen this trip and was pleased his fears were unfounded. This was going to be fun.
III
The man's name was André Fortier and he was with a different tour group to that of the Inspector. He'd been walking through the rooms, staying on the public side of the roped off areas, when he caught a glimpse of a girl running down a corridor.
She had shown unmistakable signs that someone was chasing her, turning and looking distraught. She turned and fled up some stairs and Fornier had stepped across the ropes to give chase, planning to come to her rescue.
André followed the girl up to the second floor, while hotly pursued by the two security men. They tackled him as he reached the top of the stairs, bringing him to the ground. André claimed that from his position half in and out of the upper corridor; he saw the girl enter a room. Then the guards had dragged him down the stairs.
"Did you see this man you claim was chasing her?" the Inspector asked.
"No, but I swear I heard his footsteps behind me. Boots with nails in, clicking on the steps," André told him.
"The stairs are carpeted," the previously silent guard pointed out.
"And you are sure that this is the girl you saw?" the Inspector asked pointing at the portrait of Lisa Madelaine.
"Yes, I told you before. That's the girl."
"This girl died during the occupation, killed by the Nazis in a concentration camp," the Inspector told him. André Fortier looked confused. He stared at the painting and then at the Inspector.
"Perhaps she had a daughter?" he ventured.
The old man stepped forward.
"Begging your pardon, Monsieur Inspector, but I can assure you both that Lisa Madelaine Briçonnet was a virgin when she died."
"I don't think any of us can ever be sure a mature girl is in that state Monsieur…?"
"Jean François Beaudouin, at your service, Monsieur Inspector," the old man said making a small bow.
"Monsieur Beaudouin, but I take your point that if she had had a child you would most certainly have known about it. I suggest we should go and look at this room Monsieur Fortier says the girl went into."
"It is against the rules, Inspector," the first guard protested, but Inspector Monde ignored him and directed André to lead the way.
The procession made its way up to the second floor, André Fortier in the lead looking a little bit smug, the Inspector and Monsieur Beaudouin following behind him. The two perplexed security guards trailed along at the back looking worried.
"This is where those two idiots brought me to the floor," André said as they reached the top of the stairs. Inspector Monde moved ahead of him and saw a long corridor stretch out into the distance. The left hand side of the corridor was interspersed with windows looking out onto the front of the house while the right hand side was made up of floor to ceiling oak paneling interspersed with doors.
"Which door did you see the girl go through?" the Inspector asked. André moved forwards confidently down the corridor before stopping between two doors.
"I could have sworn it was about here, but it must have been this other door," André said hesitantly, moving further down the corridor and opening the door. He stood in confusion at what he saw through the door.
The Inspector and the rest of the group moved closer and looked inside. Beyond the door was a nightmare of steel struts and wooden props holding the house together. The floorboards were missing and there was dust everywhere.
"This area of the chateau is being restored, Inspector," the first security guard explained. "That is why no one is allowed up here. It is far too dangerous."
"I don't understand?" André said. "I was so sure this was where she went."
"Perhaps you two guards could escort Monsieur Fortier back down to the public parts of the house," the Inspector suggested. "Monsieur Beaudouin and I will follow along shortly."
The two guards led a shaken and confused André Fortier back along the corridor and down the stairs. The Inspector had spoken with such natural authority that the two guards saw nothing suspicious in accepting his orders or noticed his desire to stay where he was.
"Out with it, Jean François," the Inspector demanded. "I saw the way you looked when Monsieur Fortier stopped between the doors. You looked as though someone walked over your grave."
The elderly man leaned against the far wall as if about to faint. "Please, Inspector, it is too horrible to contemplate and yet it makes a terrible sense. Why did none of us come and look? How could we fail her like that?"
Inspector Monde tapped his foot impatiently. "Would you care to explain?" he asked in as quiet and gentle tone of voice as he could manage.
"This floor has a hidden room, created to hide those persecuted a long, long time ago. To make sure those inside it did not come out before the coast was clear; the door could only be opened from the outside."
"Everybody knew about it, the family and all the servants. Lisa Madelaine would often lock herself in as a child and wait for a servant to open it for her. It was a game she played. If Lisa Madelaine was missing, she could always be found in the hidden room. It would be the first place any of us would look."
Inspector Monde placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. "None of you could know she was there. Her family had been taken by the Nazis. You had no reason to look."
Jean François nodded his head in acknowledgement while continuing to hold back tears.
"Would you open the door for me, Jean François?" the Inspector asked. The old man shuffled to the panelled walls and pressed the two places. The panel swung open revealing a dust and cobwebbed interior. At the far end of the room was a tiny window with a small cross on a chain dangling from it.
There was a plain wooden table and a straight-backed wooden chair. Sitting in it were the desiccated remains of a young girl. Her skin clung tightly to her bones. The girl's clothes were perfectly preserved, her dress being a beautiful sky blue.
"Lisa Madelaine," whispered the Inspector.
The corpse tapped a finger in a deep indentation in the table. It turned its face towards the Inspector and smiled. Jean François gasped in horror.
"I knew if I waited long enough someone would come," said the rotting corpse in a husky dusty rasp as it turned and stood. "I have been waiting an age to be rescued and I do so want to thank you."
The corpse walked up
to the Inspector, put its stretched skin and bone arms around his shoulders, and cried dry dusty tears over his jacket.
"I’m so glad you came, it was lonely here. If you hadn’t come right at this very moment I’m sure I would have died."
The corpse pushed its face firmly against the Inspector's. Its eyes were prunes devoid of life and yet dust rolled down her desiccated skin in the facsimile of tears.
"Lisa, sweet Lisa Madelaine, you died so long ago," the Inspector told her. "You were running from Nazis during the war and that war is long over. Now it is time for you to rest. I want you to go to meet your parents where they await your return. You must be very brave."
The corpse backed away as if the Inspector had developed bad breath. Lisa looked at her fingers and hands, which were just skin and bone.
"Oh no, I thought my fingers were getting a lot thinner. Now I see they're thin because I'm dead." Lisa sank back into the chair with a moan of despair.
The sun shone through the tiny window and over the small silver cross on its delicate silver chain. As the shadow of the cross fell on her body it fell to pieces, fingers, arm and leg bones. They scattered and bounced as they hit the floor and crumbled to dust.
The End
THE INSPECTOR MONDE MYSTERIES
Marie
Missing
The Lost Girls
Bloody Hands
Love Springs/ Prelude
Loving Hands
Elegant Fingers
Furry Friends/ Crash
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