a mini thriller by Rémi Lacouette-Fougère, to close 2024 with the Noires de Pau (4/4)

[Dans l’épisode précédent : Après l’accident qui impliquait les amants Manon Cayola et Kader Boukra près de l’hippodrome, le commissaire Bégorry a brossé le portrait de plusieurs suspects liés à la disparition du chef Thierry Marsan. Kader Boukra n’était pas au bas de la liste…]

“[…] The commissioner took a different approach with one of his main suspects. He was still convalescing, and he had to be taken care of. He exposed his theories to him in order to observe his reaction and push him to confess. The least we can say is that it worked. The guy became talkative, there was no stopping him!

– He had unexplained mood swings. One day he completely melted a pellet. You see, he started screaming, he was crying like a kid, I told myself he was completely stoned! All this because I had mentioned the possibility of offering an apple pie in a restaurant, yet it is an easy dessert that reminds us of childhood, everyone likes it. This guy is crazy!

– Ah yes, it’s a strange reaction to say the least, indeed. And you left it there?

– He continued to see red, started yelling again and I was perhaps a little less restrained than the first time, but there was only an exchange of slaps.

– The cleaning lady says you fought.

– Oh yes, was that one there? Yes, well barely, but it was nothing, I didn’t let myself be barked at, that’s all.

– And with Manon Cayola? Did you witness violence between them? And how are things going between you? Do you think Marsan could have learned of your relationship and threatened it?

“She’s as crazy as him!” I even discovered that she had made several stays at Saint-Luc. »

– But not at all, I tell you he was a barge! She wasn’t cheating on him, he was the one who wanted to see us b…! I made the mistake of accepting. At first we both had to do it a bit, but then she didn’t stop pestering me. She’s as crazy as him! I even discovered that she had made several stays at Saint-Luc. I’ll tell you what I think, it’s that in the end, these two found each other well.

– So according to you, no jealousy crisis is possible?

– no! Besides, he didn’t mind going elsewhere. The other day at the restaurant, Manon flew into a rage, because she had found an earring that didn’t belong to her at their house, something stupid that she screamed at, a shiny earring in the shape of a sword and she swore as much as she could that she would find this slut and make her eat her ringlet by the ass.

– And you never knew who this buckle belonged to?

– No, and I don’t care.

Upon rereading the report, the commissioner thought he had enough evidence to indict Manon Cayola and Kader Boukra. Further investigation would make it possible to determine the role of each person.

The commissioner was finishing his still rainy day. He couldn’t wait to return to his cold little apartment. On his desk, someone had left clearly visible, an old framed article dated January 20, 2000 in which Thierry Marsan, a promising young chef, spoke of his taste for authentic cuisine, working with healthy, simple and good products. like the apple of the orchard, plucked from the tree.

He was recalling a childhood memory, he liked to go pilfering apples with his friend after a bike ride. In the article, the journalist, taking advantage of this confession of authenticity, sought to understand why then he had preferred to take his mother’s maiden name?

– Your name was Pucheu, why did you change your surname?

– Some names are like certain stories, too heavy to bear, and we do what we can to move away from them.

“Everything came back to him, the bike ride, the tree climbing, the apple picking. The adrenaline when the old market gardener surprised them…”

Reading these words, the commissioner began to tremble. Everything came back to him, the bike ride, the tree climbing, the apple picking. The adrenaline when the old market gardener had surprised them, the fall of the tree, the abandonment of their bike, and the race to escape. The market gardener had chased them for a long time along the railway line. They had only escaped his wrath because he had tripped over a crossbar.

The next day, they discovered, horrified, in the press, the death of the old man, through a macabre photo in which only fingers remained recognizable. Then time passed, Thierry moved and they never saw each other again.

He must have known for certain, and went down to the archives. So many piled up files. Some cases date back to the beginning of the century. The one that was bothering him didn’t go back that far, around forty years. He finally got his hands on the file. He had not yet returned to his office when he had already opened the folder, and had begun to read the hearing report from the time.

Captivated by his reading, he had barely noticed the cleaning lady, and had jostled her as he entered. Reflexively, he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it. He was now reading aloud.

“She said she saw her grandfather screaming with a pitchfork in his hand, then running and throwing rocks towards the bottom of the hill. She was convinced that he had not committed suicide.” But it’s true, the market gardener had a little girl. What was her name again? he said out loud. He was feverishly searching for this information which seemed crucial to him without knowing why. Ah finally… Carole…

Suddenly his head started to spin. His vision was blurring, his ears were ringing. He suddenly heard the maid in the hallway whisper, “You were almost there, so close.” He collapsed on his desk when he saw a sword-shaped ring dangling from his ear, and leaving with the file under his arm. »