The Beast of the Camargue Read Free Page A

Michel.”
    Almost imperceptibly, she drew him against her breasts. He sensed that they were tense beneath the thin fabric. She stroked his forehead tenderly, just where the man who called himself “the Hunter” had hit him with his tomahawk.
    â€œI’m going home, Anne.”
    â€œAs you want, boss.”
    She moved her hands down to the nape of his neck, and met his mouth with lips swollen with desire.
    Isabelle has just had her third child
.
    The Baron has received an invitation
.
    A pale blue card with a photo of the little fellow
.
    He is called Michel, just like him
.
    Isabelle wanted that. In memory of that firebrand policeman who crossed her path
.
    Isabelle has always been a friend to him
.
    And it is true that he has never let her down
.
    NEVER
.
    He has always prized the memory of the beautiful teenager he loved
.
    ALWAYS
.
    How could he ever forget her?
    Isabelle wants Michel to be her third child’s godfather
.
    He is not sure if he will accept
.
    But he is thinking about it. He’s already refused twice
.
    She will end up thinking that he doesn’t care about her any more
.
    Poor Isabelle
.
    If only she knew how much the Baron thinks about her
.
    Night and day
.
    Day and night.
    The paper had yellowed with the years.
    It was written in the muscular hand of Commissaire Boyer, the father of police headquarters. Boyer the magnificent, who made people grow up in a single burst.
    De Palma was naked on his bed. He still had Anne’s perfume on his lips. He could hear Boyer’s voice: “Bring him to me. Bring him in. Right here. I want to see him before the big farewell. De Palma, you go to the crime scene with Maistre. I think she’s still there. You’ll see about all that with Marceau. I want your opinion. You young people sometimes have new ideas.”
    And Boyer the boss had written across the sheet of paper, with his big fat pencil, one end blue, the other red:
    RAPE AND MURDER, in red.
    And at the bottom, in blue: CASE UNSOLVED.
    Name: Isabelle MERCIER.
    Fair hair, 16 years old. 1m 63cm. 56 kilos.
    28 rue des Prairies. 20th arrondissement.
    Date of discovery of the body: December 20, 1978, at 9:56 p.m.
    Case followed by Inspectors de Palma, Marceau and Maistre.
    â€œCase unsolved,” the Baron repeated, smoothing the sheet between his thumb and index finger. The letters U.N.S.O.L.V.E.D. burned into his eyes.
    â€œBring him in!”
    In his first notebook, the Baron had written: Isabelle Mercier.
    And that was all.
    *
    At the top of the page, Isabelle’s photograph is stuck on with a paperclip
.
    It is an identity shot
.
    Black and white
.
    Isabelle is sixteen
.
    She is smiling shyly
.
    Her hair makes two commas on her velvet cheeks
.
    Maistre and de Palma arrive at 28 rue des Prairies
.
    It is the first time that Boyer the Terrible has entrusted them with a case
.
    And this one seems to mean a lot to him
.
    Isabelle is lying on her stomach
.
    Jean-Claude Marceau is looking out of the window
.
    The official photographer is staring at her, the corners of his mouth trembling
.
    â€œMaistre and de Palma …”
    â€œHello, lads. The old man is throwing you in at the deep end. Take a look. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    De Palma bends down
.
    He raises a lock of hair caught in the coagulated blood
.
    It is like a piece of caramel
.
    Beneath it, an eye stares at him dumbly
.
    An eye in the middle of nothing
.
    An eye without a face
.
    Jean-Claude turns round
.
    â€œTo do that to a face, you really have to hit it hard. Fucking hard. Never seen anything like it, lads.”
    Jean-Louis Maistre has gone to throw up
.
    De Palma swallows back his saliva
.
    He wants to keep the horror inside him
.
    And the horror is inside him.
    Never forget.
    â€œHello, Maistre?”
    â€œHave you seen what time it is, you bugger?”
    â€œShe’s back, Le Gros.”
    â€œIsabelle?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œShe’s never been away