The Grave Gourmet Read Free Page A

questioning a few months ago. It was like catching the Loch Ness monster when you were fishing for sardines. He went berserk and tried to kill us all. Three guys came in from next door and it took the six of us to get him cuffed to that chair,” he said, indicating the twisted chair against the wall. “He destroyed the chair, as you can see, and he got a few solid head butts in on Isabelle. Finally we had to inject him with a sedative. We let him sit in a cell downstairs for the night and threw him out in the morning. A naturally deranged psychotic. A force of nature. I’m sure he’s killed someone by now.” David smiled happily and Isabelle burst into cheerful laughter.
    â€œWhy on earth didn’t you arrest him?”
    â€œFor what? Everyone tries to punch Isabelle. You probably will too even if you’re only here for a week,” David said. “Say, is this for real? An actual case? Are we going to get the hell out of here?”
    â€œOh, yes, absolutely. We have to get going right away. We’re already late. A bigwig, the president of Renault, was found dead in Diapason.”
    â€œWhere?” Momo asked.
    â€œIt’s a very fancy restaurant in the Seventh. We’ll have to take my car. There were none left in the pool. Come on. Off we go.”
    With the whoops of schoolchildren and knowing glances the three brigadiers collected their guns and handcuffs, secreted them in various recesses of their clothing, and shuffled out the door, preceding Capucine.
    On the way down the hall Capucine couldn’t help overhearing David whispering angrily to Isabelle. “This beats everything. Rivière sneaks off for a week in the sun and we get stuck with some kooky loser on an asshole case. What next?”

Chapter 4
    I t was a tight fit for the four of them in Capucine’s compact Renault Clio. Momo took the wheel with Capucine next to him while David and Isabelle squeezed uncomfortably into the back. Momo weaved in and out of traffic cursing sotto voce. Normally an aggressive driver, he was greatly affronted by the little car. Clios were notoriously underpowered to begin with and Capucine’s had been hamstrung by an automatic transmission.
    â€œ Merde, Lieutenant, we can’t show up at a crime scene in this thing. Some of us have reputations to keep up. Where did you get this piece of crap? At a toy store?” he asked, angrily hammering the accelerator into the floor-board with only minimal effect.
    â€œMy husband has pretty much the same reaction. It was a bad choice. I thought it was very cute when I bought it. You should see it with the air-conditioning on. Then it really doesn’t move.” Capucine laughed cheerfully.
    Out of the corner of her eye Capucine caught David and Isabelle silently mouthing the word “cute” and rolling their eyes.
    Within a few minutes Momo tired of his inability to accelerate through traffic and indignantly banged the magnetized flashing blue dome light on the roof of the car. “At least you’ve got one of these things,” he said with a cynical sideward glance at Capucine.
    â€œOh, yes, there’s even a siren, but I’ve never used it.”
    â€œLet’s not try it now. It would probably stop the car,” David said. Isabelle elbowed him in the ribs delightedly.
    Traffic evaporated in front of the throbbing blue light and they arrived quickly in the Seventh, the arrondissement of narrow streets, stately ministries, and imposing embassies, where a machine-gun–toting policeman seemed to guard almost every other entrance. Le Diapason, at the apex of a sharply pointed corner, jutted out grandly like the bow of a stately yacht. Two police vehicles, a van and an unmarked sedan, made conspicuous by their oversized jutting antennas, were double-parked on the street.
    Inside, a covey of uniformed police from the local commissariat milled around at loose ends. When Capucine strode in purposefully