The Secret Of The Cathars (2011)

by Michael Hillier

  “The other thing we should do is photograph the cache and the circumstances in which we find the tubes. Even that information might be useful to researchers. We can’t do that until the morning.”

  So they locked the length of bamboo away in the shed, well hidden from any prying eyes. Then they made their way carefully down the path to the car.

  “We don’t want any twisted ankles or broken limbs,” warned Jackie.

  It was nearly eleven by the time they made it back to the hotel. They were filthy and exhausted. The place was in darkness but the concierge let them in, with a surprised look at their condition. After a quick shower, they collapsed into bed, too tired even to make love.

  In fact they weren’t able to go back up to the site first thing the next morning because a message was brought to them while they were having breakfast. Sergeant Leblanc wanted to see them at nine o’clock. They agreed that there wasn’t time to go up to le Bezu and return for the meeting. They could only hope that Leblanc didn’t want to detain them for too long.

  When they arrived at the police station they were shown straight into the sergeant’s office. He was standing at his desk with a grey-haired elderly gentleman.

  “This is Maitre Amboisard,” he explained. “He is the examining magistrate who is looking into the death of Andre Jolyon.”

  “Good morning, mademoiselle,” began the old man. “I’m afraid I have to tell you that last night I received a telephone call from Toulouse. An initial inspection of Monsieur Jolyon’s body leads the pathologist to the preliminary conclusion that he was struck on the back of the head and rendered unconscious before his body was thrown from the cliffs at le Bezu.”

  Jacqueline’s hand went to her forehead and she reeled to clutch at Philip. He helped her to a chair.

  “How can you tell that?” he asked.

  The Maitre spared him a brief glance. “Apparently they are able to tell that the impact injuries which killed him when he hit the rocks occurred to an unconscious man.” He turned back to Jackie. “Are you all right, mademoiselle?”

  The sergeant passed her a glass of water and she took a gulp before answering.

  “Yes, thank you. It was just a bit of a shock, hearing it suddenly like that.”

  “Well. This means,” continued Amboisard, “that I am now investigating a probable murder. I have to take this very seriously.”

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  “Everyone who had an opportunity is a suspect until I can clear their name.” He inclined his head towards the young Englishman. “You must understand that allegations have been made which includes you among the possible suspects.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Philip, “I realise that I was named by Gaston as a possible murderer, but have you considered how it was done? To make Andre unconscious and carry him up to the cliffs would either need at least two men or one very strong one.”

  Jackie was on her feet, suddenly recovered from the shock. “And Philip couldn’t possibly have done that. Who would have helped him? He came to France on his own only the day before Andre was killed. Philip knew nobody here before he arrived. Are you suggesting that I fell instantly in love with him and helped him bump off my long-serving assistant?”

  “No! No, mademoiselle.” The Maitre held out his hand in a placatory gesture. “I am accusing nobody at this moment. I am just pointing out that everybody has to be investigated and cleared. That means all the people who Sergeant Leblanc spoke to last week.”

  “Well,” she said, “I had Philip checked out as soon as he arrived before I offered him a job. I will let you have a copy of that report.”

  “Thank you very much. That will be helpful.”

  She raised a finger. “And I have a suspect who could have done it and who Sergeant Leblanc hasn’t interviewed. The man who replaced Jolyon just suddenly appeared out of the woodwork the day after Andre’s death. He’s big. He’s very strong, and I suspect that he has killed other men before.”

  “Really?” Amboisard looked shocked. “Who is this man?”

  “He’s called Lerenard - Jean-Luc Lerenard. He could easily have done it, couldn’t he, Philip?”

  “Well. he’s certainly a big, strong guy.”

  She jabbed her finger at the magistrate. “The man you need to question about him is Alain Gisours, the Chief Executive at TV France in Paris. Ask him where he conjured up this guy from later the same day that Andre was killed. We thought it was very suspicious at the time.”

  The magistrate’s eyebrows had risen almost to his hairline. He opened his mouth to speak but Jacqueline forestalled him.

  “And then he went and disappeared yesterday without even saying goodbye.”

  “Disappeared”

  “That’s right. TV France have closed down the excavation. Everybody seemed very upset about it. We all went up to the site yesterday morning to collect our things and say goodbye - everybody except Lerenard who sloped off while we were gone.”

  “Do you know where this man Lerenard is?”

  “No. But I know where you might be able to get directions to find him. Try the Bishop’s Palace in Narbonne. Apparently they recommended him to my old friend Bertrand Dugard. He worked with Bertrand at Prouille for a few weeks before he came to work for me.”

  “At Prouille? The monastery near Fanjeaux?”

  “That’s right. Well,” she continued, her face betraying her anger. “Bertrand was instructed to take him on and train him by Narbonne. He told me this himself. And one thing you can be sure of is that the Abbe Dugard does not lie.”

  “Oh! - TV France - Bishop’s Palace - all the others.” The Maitre held his hand to his forehead. “I have a lot to do. Will you be rushing off somewhere before the weekend, mademoiselle?”

  “No. We’re staying here for a few days.”

  “You will tell Sergeant Leblanc before you leave?”

  “Certainly I will. We both will.”

  After that he let them go without any further questions or instructions. Philip had been afraid that he might restrict them to the town of Quillan or tell them not to go back to the scene of the crime, but the thought didn’t seem to occur to him. He obviously had too much else on his mind.

  As they walked back to the hotel, Jackie had the grace to chuckle. “That should put a spoke in bloody Alain Gisours wheel - and the Bishop’s Palace at Narbonne.”

  “It’s also given Maitre Amboisard a lot to think about. I was afraid he was going to tell us that le Bezu was out of bounds. We’d better get up there as soon as possible to recover those tubes.”

  “We’ll have a coffee and go straight up there.”

  “First I must get a replacement torch.”

  She pointed an admonitory finger. “Two torches.”

  “Right you are,” he grinned. “Two torches it is.”

  - 24 -

  Alain Hebert insisted on going up to le Bezu in the morning. Cesar had told him about her visit to site the previous day and her brief conversation with Philip.

  “The Englishman told me ‘the plug had been pulled on the whole operation’. If I understood his English correctly it meant the site was being closed down immediately. He said the archaeologists were up there collecting their personal possessions and they were all setting off back to Paris later in the day.”

  “How incredible,” breathed Alain. “I wonder what brought this about?”

  “Perhaps the police have at last woken up about the accident to the young man and have decided to close the site.”

  “Perhaps.” He put his head on one side. “You don’t think this Englishman was selling you a line?”

  “Not in the least. I checked at the hotel in Quillan and the concierge was very gloomy. He said all his rooms except one had been cancelled.”

  “So who’s still there?”

  “Ah.” She grinned. “Apparently there’s a love affair going on between the Blontard woman and the young Englishman. He’s moved into her room. I don’t think they’ll be w
orrying about digging holes at le Bezu for the next few days.”

  Hebert was more cautious. “Maybe. But it seems a bit odd to me that those two should be getting on so well. I think we ought to keep an eye on them.” He paused. “I also want to go up to the chateau and see what sort of a state they’ve left the place in.”

  So immediately after breakfast they set out for le Bezu in his car. They parked it in the empty parking area at the foot of the now well-worn path up to the castle and climbed up to the site.

  It was clear that the place was deserted. The roped-off areas with their warning signs had been left as they were before. But every tool and piece of equipment had been cleared away. Any areas which had obviously been worked on had been levelled off to avoid causing obstruction. The shed was shut and locked. A peep through the window showed an empty desk and shelves. All the diaries, record books and plans had been taken away. It was so different to two days before.

  “It’s the lower site that I really want to see,” said Alain. “I want to check that it’s in the same state as when you saw it on Tuesday afternoon.”

  They scrambled down the rough path and steps to the bottom trench, cursing the brambles that tore at their clothes. The only things which seemed to be different were that the finds table and equipment and the scaffolding had been removed. Only the trench and a large heap of rubble and vegetation remained. At first sight there seemed to be no changes to the earlier visit.

  “It doesn’t seem to be any different to Tuesday,” said Cesar. “This appears to have simply been abandoned like the other areas.”

  Alain jumped down into the hole, landing on the solid paving slabs. He started walking along the trench, peering closely at the surface.

  “No, it hasn’t,” he shouted. “There are tools down here. Come and take a look.”

  Cesar got down into the trench and joined him. He was looking down at a small canvas bag lying at one side. It appeared to contain some mason’s stoneworking tools and a short crow-bar lay nearby.

  “What is this hole in the rock just above the paving?” he demanded.

  She bent down to look. “I think that’s where there was a low stone wall blocking off a damp hollow in the rock. I told you about it when I described the work they were doing.”

  “You mean that somebody’s removed the wall since you were last here?”

  “Yes, they have. That’s puzzling because they seemed to be ignoring it before. And they said they were abandoning this area.”

  Alain went down on his hands and knees and peered into the hole. “The whole of the wall which must have blocked off this hollow has been removed. That provides a way of getting round these slabs into the space below.” He looked up at her with a horrified expression. “This is absolutely disastrous. This little cave must be blocked up straight away.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is this.” He got up and pointed to the hole. “We must cover it up. Nobody must be able to see it looking like this.”

  “Do you think anybody’s going to come down here and see it?”

  “We daren’t risk it. In any case I have a nasty feeling that Blontard and the Englishman have had something to do with this. I think they’ll be back. And I want to prevent them going down the hole at all costs.”

  “But Alain, we can’t do anything to block it up now. We haven’t got any tools. Of course we can drag some bushes and undergrowth across the trench to disguise the hole. But it won’t take anybody who knows about it very long to remove them again. And it will also tell them that somebody’s found out about it and wants to hide it.”

  “Hmm.” He spent a few minutes ruminating. “We’ve certainly got to get this area filled in and that hole blocked up once and for all. I think we’re going to have to bring the Force in to do that.” He took a breath. “Cesar, I want you to go back and contact them. Tell them to send some men and tools down here to move the earth back into the trench.” He paused as he thought about it. “How long do you think they’ll take to get here?”

  “Well, you’ve probably got a better idea than me. I guess it’s about six hours driving. But it’ll take a further couple of hours to get the men together. How many do you think you’re going to need?”

  “At least four. And, as well as digging equipment, they’ll need the stuff for cutting bushes and undergrowth. In addition I’ll want about four long planks to put across the hole to stop the earth falling down it when they fill the trench.”

  “It sounds as though they’re going to need a large van to carry everything. That’ll slow them down some more. I can’t see them getting here much before nightfall.”

  Hebert pondered. “I think that tonight might be the best time to do it. It would be wisest to do this work at night when we’re unlikely to have visitors turning up to ask awkward questions.” He wagged a finger at her. “That means we’ll also need flashlights and screening to put up round the work area to make sure nobody reports seeing funny lights up here in the middle of the night.”

  “Careful. It’s starting to sound complicated.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” he admitted. “You’d better tell Montlucon to make sure he sends people who are capable of working quietly at night.” He stopped for a minute, then suddenly clapped his hands. “Because I’ve decided to change the plan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think the time has come to act. I think we have to get the stuff out tonight. It means that altogether they’ll need to send four three-tonne vans, including the one with the digging tools. Tell him the one with the men and the digging tools is to come here. He’s to make sure that the other three are told to wait in three different locations so as not to alert the police. They must all have at least two mobile telephones so that they can be called to the parking bay in sequence. We’ll divert the diggers to clearing the path up to the outside door. Once the place is cleared out it won’t matter about filling in this trench. Is that all clear to you?”

  She took a breath. “Yes. I think I’ve got all that.”

  “Tell him to make sure the group in each van has a competent leader with a detailed map of the area and set of instructions telling them how to find the place. We don’t want anyone getting lost and trundling round these mountain roads for hours. He’ll need a back-up fast car to deal with any emergencies.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” she said. “They’ve been ready for this for weeks. Whatever else he may be, you can trust Montlucon to organise this sort of thing. He’s done it enough times under my father’s orders.”

  “OK. Well, you’d better be off, my dear. Here are the car keys.” He handed them to her.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I shall stay here and keep watch. We can’t risk anyone turning up and finding this place in the state it is at present.”

  “What will you do if somebody does turn up?”

  “I’ll have to play it by ear. I’ll keep myself well hidden. If they just turn up, look round and go again, then no harm will have been done. It’s if they try to go down the hole that I’ll have to do something about it.”

  “But you haven’t got any weapons.”

  He gave her a lop-sided grin. “I’ll have to rely on my ability to talk them out of it.”

  “Best of luck.” She sighed. “Well, I’m off.” She pecked him on the cheek and turned away.

  “Come back here as soon as you can to let me know what arrangements you have made with Montlucon. Oh, and can you bring some food and water with you when you return? Our watch may be a long one.”

  “Of course I will. See you soon.”

  With a half-wave she set off up the path.

  - 25 -

  When Jackie and Philip got to le Bezu they were surprised to see a little car parked in their usual place.

  “Looks like we’ve got visitors,” said Philip. “Let’s hope they’re not staying long.”

  Jackie was less casual about it. “Do you rec
ognise the car?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

  “I’ve got a feeling I might have seen it here recently. And if it’s just casual visitors, they’re the first to this site in more than a month.”

  “What are you saying?”

  She pulled a face. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence to find visitors coming to the site just after the excavation has been closed down. I want us to go very carefully and see just who they are and what they’re doing.”

  “What do we do with our car?”

  “Drive on for another four hundred metres and pull in to the farmyard. That’s the end of the track.”

  “Won’t the farmer object?”

  “It’s not a working farm. They only usually come at weekends. I made my peace with them when we first started on the site.”

  They parked the car out of sight and Philip got the padded duffle bag out of the boot. Then they walked back down the track towards the site notice board. As they neared the path up to the castle, they heard a scrambling noise.

  “There’s somebody coming,” she whispered. “Get into the hedge.”

  They heard the sound of a person pass along the path just above them, breathing heavily and obviously in a hurry. Philip peered after her.

  “I think it’s that journalist woman.”

  “Cesar Renoir?”

  The woman unlocked the car, jumped in and started the engine. She did a quick three-point turn with plenty of wheel-spin and sped off down the track.

  “Blimey. She’s in a bit of a hurry,”

  “I don’t like this,” said Jackie. “I think we’d better get up to the site fast.”

  They started up the path at the best speed they could make over the steep, rough terrain. Jackie was moving quickly and Philip had to hurry to keep up with her.

  “It seems odd that the journalist should be in such a rush.”

  “I must say that I’ve been beginning to wonder about her nosing around,” said Jackie, puffing a little from her energetic activity. “It seems odd that she’s turned up to watch us several times since we started digging that trench down at the bottom of the site. I’d like to know who she’s working for.”