Martin Walker - Bruno, Chief of Police

BRUNO , CHIEF OF POLICE
by
Martin Walker

Policing in Chief Bruno Courrgess sun-dappled patch of Prigord involves protecting local fromages from E.U. hygiene inspectors, orchestrating village parades and enjoying the obligatory leisurely lunchthat is, until the brutal murder of an elderly Algerian immigrant instantly jolts Walkers second novel (after The Caves of Prigord) from provincial cozy to timely whodunit. As a high-powered team of investigators, including a criminally attractive female inspector, invade sleepy St. Denis to forestall any anti-Arab violence, the amiable Bruno must begin regarding his neighborsor should we say potential suspectsin a rather different light. Without sacrificing a soupon of the novels smalltown charm or its characters endearing quirkiness, Walker deftly drives his plot toward a dark place where old sins breed fresh heartbreak. Walker, a foreign affairs journalist, is also the author of such nonfiction titles as The Iraq War and America Reborn.

First published in Great Britain in 2008 by Quercus This paperback edition first published in 2009 by Quercus 21 Bloomsbury Square London WC1A 2NS Copyright 2008 by Walker and Watson Ltd. Map copyright 2009 by Raymond Turvey The moral right of Martin Walker to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978 1 84724 598 4 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc For Pierrot Police National Place Dubernin Prigueux INCIDENT REPORT Dossier PN/24/MI/47398(P) Incident:Unnatural death. Cause of death:Stab wounds, exsanguination. Related incident:Not known, no sign of robbery. Date:11 May. Location:Commune de St Denis, Dordogne 24240. Reporting Officer:Chief of Police Municipale, Courrges, Benot. Judge Magistrate:To be appointed. Case Officer:Brigade Chief (Detectives) J-J Jalipeau. Victim:Hamid al-Bakr. Date of Birth:14/7/1923 Place of Birth:Oran, Algeria. Profession:Retired Army sergeant, caretaker. Army number 47937692A. Social Security number:KV47/N/79457463/M. Place of work:(last known) Military School of Engineers, Lille. Address:La Bergerie, Chemin Communale 43, St Denis, 24240.

Report:
CoP Courrges, accompanied by Gendarmerie Captain Duroc, Etienne, Post 24/37,
were called to the remote country home of the deceased after a telephone call
from the victims grandson, Karim al-Bakr. Death was certified by Morisot,
Albert, Fire Chief of St Denis. Death caused by blood loss after stab wounds to
the trunk. Victim had been beaten and hands were bound. Scene of Crime team
called from Bergerac.
Note: All reports to be copied to Office of Prefect, Prigueux.
CHAPTER 1
On a bright May morning, so early that the last of the mist was still lingering
low over the great bend in the river, a white van drew to a halt on the ridge
over the small French town. A man emerged, strode to the edge of the road and
stretched mightily as he admired the familiar view. He was still young, and
evidently fit enough to be dapper and brisk in his movements, but as he relaxed
he was sufficiently concerned about his love of food to tap his waist, gingerly
probing for any sign of plumpness, always a threat in this springtime period
between the end of the rugby season and the start of serious hunting. He wore
what appeared to be half a uniform a neatly ironed blue shirt with epaulettes,
no tie, navy blue trousers and black boots. His thick, dark hair was crisply
cut, his warm brown eyes had a twinkle and his generous mouth seemed always
ready to break into a smile. On a badge on his chest, and on the side of his
van, were the words Police Municipale. A rather dusty peaked cap lay on the
passenger seat.
In the back of the van were a crowbar, a tangle of battery cables, one basket
containing new-laid eggs, and another with his first spring peas of the season.
Two tennis racquets, a pair of rugby boots, training shoes, and a large bag with
various kinds of sports attire added to the jumble which tangled itself in a
spare line from a fishing rod. Somewhere underneath all this were a first-aid
kit, a small tool chest, a blanket, and a picnic hamper with plates and glasses,
salt and pepper, a head of garlic and a Laguiole pocket knife with a horn handle
and corkscrew. Tucked under the front seat was a bottle of not-quite-legal eau
de vie from a friendly farmer. He would use this to make his private stock of
vin de noix when the green walnuts were ready on the feast of St Catherine.
Benot Courrges, Chief of Police for the small Commune of St Denis and its
2,900 souls, and universally known as Bruno, was always prepared for every
eventuality.
Or almost always. He wore no heavy belt with its attachments of holster and
pistol, handcuffs and flashlight, keys and notebook, and all the other burdens
that generally weigh down every policeman in France. There would doubtless be a
pair of ancient handcuffs somewhere in the jumble of his van, but Bruno had long
forgotten where he had put the key. He did have a flashlight, and constantly
reminded himself that one of these days he ought to buy some new batteries. The
vans glove compartment held a notebook and some pens, but the notebook was
currently full of various recipes, the minutes of the last tennis club meeting
(which he had yet to type up on the temperamental old office computer that he
distrusted) and a list of the names and phone numbers of the minimes, the young
boys who had signed up for his rugby training class.
Brunos gun, a rather elderly MAB 9mm semi-automatic, was locked in his safe in
his office in the Mairie, and taken out once a year for his annual refresher
course at the gendarmerie range in Prigueux. He had worn it on duty on three
occasions in his eight years in the Police Municipale. The first was when a
rabid dog had been sighted in a neighbouring Commune, and the police were put on
alert. The second was when the President of France had driven through the
Commune of St Denis on his way to see the celebrated cave paintings of Lascaux.
He had stopped to visit an old friend, Grard Mangin, who was the Mayor of St
Denis and Brunos employer. Bruno had saluted his nations leader and proudly
stood armed guard outside the Mairie, exchanging gossip with the far more
thoroughly armed presidential bodyguard, one of whom turned out to be a former
comrade from Brunos army days. The third time was when the boxing kangaroo
escaped from a local circus, but that was another story. On no occasion had
Brunos gun ever been used on duty, a fact of which he was extremely but
privately proud. Of course, like most of the other men (and not a few women) of
the Commune of St Denis, he shot almost daily in the hunting season and usually
bagged his target, unless he was stalking the notoriously elusive bcasse, a
bird whose taste he preferred above all others.
Bruno gazed contentedly down upon his town, which looked in the freshness of the
early morning as if le bon Dieu had miraculously created it overnight. His eyes
lingered on the way the early sunlight bounced and flickered off the eddies
where the Vzre river ran under the arches of the old stone bridge. The place

Next page