There you go, it’s on the left, left again, and there, at the end of the corridor, you take a right…”
Damn, what a maze! Without this resident of the building to guide them, the police would never have found the right cellar. Nor its sinister content. It is October 25, 2020, in the inextricable basements of 17 rue de Champagne, in Chambéry. And if the cops made the trip on the report of a neighbor, it is not for nothing: behind this half-open door, it is indeed a corpse that awaits them. That of a woman.
— When I passed yesterday, she wasn’t there, says the neighbor who raised the alarm.
Her naked body is marked with dozens of bruises
One thing is certain: the victim suffered before dying. His naked body is marked with dozens of bruises. Who is she ? Who killed her? And what is this viscous, thick material that covers his pale skin? On this last point, a cop quickly understands. Nearby is an empty can. Boiler maintenance product… From the looks of it, it was this cleaner that we applied to the body. To accelerate the rotting? Mask the smell? Mystery. In the meantime, we must first identify the unfortunate woman. And here again things don’t drag on: it’s an occupant of the second floor, a certain Catherine F., 47 years old, average height, brown hair. The residents of the building knew her well. They describe a woman given to cannabis and bottles, unstable, sometimes homely and suspicious, sometimes open and spontaneous. On the other hand, everyone agrees to say the greatest good about Louis Robert Bret, the man with whom she lived… Besides, where has this one gone? The day is fading when the forty-year-old finally appears in front of the 17th, dragging his 120 kilos on a bicycle. It’s him, it’s Louis Robert! As soon as he dismounted, the police questioned him. The guy, apparently, doesn’t know anything. Catherine, his companion?
— She is in Grenoble, declares the obese man, with a friend.
Does he really believe it? Is he bluffing? Placed in police custody, the individual did not try to hide that his relationship was going through serious problems. Testimonies from people in the neighborhood confirm this, painting the portrait of a “toxic” household on the verge of breakdown. Is it the fault of the alcohol that we consumed in high doses at home? The joints we smoked? Catherine’s illness? The thing was known only to those close to them, but the unfortunate woman, with precarious mental health, suffered from “paranoid schizophrenia”. Which had already earned him six stays in a psychiatric institution. For a long time, Louis Robert did everything possible to help him. It was he, we learned, who washed her, did her hair, prepared her meals… But for some time now, his “Doudou”, as he called her, had refused to take her pills. More and more often, she escaped from the rue de Champagne, in search of new encounters.
The time when they frolicked night and day is long gone
Louis Robert does not deny all this to the investigators. Is it the fact of being listened to, of finally having someone to talk to about your problems? He gives himself up without restraint.
“We’ve been living in separate rooms for two years,” he explains sadly.
The time when he and “Doudou” frolicked night and day is long gone. Ah! They had a good time! They didn’t stop at the time, real rabbits…
– Except sodomy, specifies Louis Robert.
Not his thing, he still insists, to the great surprise of the investigators. Why these details moved? She was not asked to expose her sex life! But the big man seems to make it a point of honor. We will understand later why…
For the moment, he fiercely denies having killed his partner. How could he? He loved her so much! The police, however, are not fooled. The findings in the apartment tell a different story. Switched to Bluestar, the floor and walls show bloody splatters.… Everything indicates, in fluorescent blue, the scenario of the argument going wrong. Femicide is obvious. Why then does Louis Robert Bret persist in denying the evidence? The answer may lie in the findings of the medical examiner. In particular this “dilatation of the anus” noted during the autopsy. The police, as we will see, are not at the end of their surprises… Because it is in stages that their suspect will let everything go. And take them, step by step, to the depths of horror.
She insults him and orders him to empty the place
Pushed to his limits, Bret ends up admitting it. Yes, he killed Catherine. He killed her because he couldn’t take it anymore. That afternoon – Saturday, October 24 – she was having a blast when she got home. Very uplifted. Catherine, as we have said, no longer took her treatment, she no longer measured her aggressiveness towards her partner. Where is she from ? Did she drink with who knows who? In any case, she can no longer stand seeing Louis Robert hanging around the apartment. She insults him and orders him to empty the place. Then seeing that he remains motionless, a big amorphous teddy bear, she pours the contents of a bottle of vodka on his head… It’s one humiliation too many. With alcohol dripping into his eyes, he throws himself at her in rage and sends her flying against a mirror. All the hatred accumulated for months explodes inside him. His big hand grabs the little brunette’s neck, lifts her off the ground… How long does he stay like this, squeezing her throat? Does he remember? And the blows, this rain of blows that he inflicts on her, once the unfortunate woman is on the ground, before pressing his knee on her chest with all his strength? Louis Robert Bret, in his confession, only remembers one thing: the “crack” of his ribcage, giving way under the weight of his 120 kilos.
—Are you happy, slut? he shouts, standing up. You’re dead now!
It will take him a few more hours, slumped in front of the TV, to “come down” to earth. It is in front of the screen, at random from a news program, that he picks up the idea of the tarpaulins and the cellar… And suddenly, at this stage of his story, the man blurts out words that no one else was not expecting:
— I’m not a necrophiliac.
The obese ends up admitting the unthinkable
Necrophile ? Why is he talking about this? What does he mean ? On the other side of the office, the investigators, sensing the worst, bombard him with questions. And the obese man ends up admitting the unthinkable… Six hours after Catherine’s death, he explains in substance, he abused her corpse. Placed his body face down on a stool and gave free rein to his impulses.
— It was to hurt him, he confusedly tries to analyze. To tear off his anus…
Behind this atrocious sentence, should we understand that the murderer was fulfilling a fantasy that Catherine refused him during her lifetime? Two elements suggest this. First this handwritten note, found in the marital apartment, where he wrote: “Watch your butt when I come home! » Or this SMS, exhumed from his phone, also addressed to his “Doudou”: “You offer me your pretty butt which I love dearly. »Tenderly, really? This is far from being the opinion of the pathologist, who underlines in his report the brutality which could have caused the anal lesions noted on the victim. Detail which completes our horror: Bret photographed the progress of this post-mortem sodomy session. We find in his cell phone no less than 21 photos taken during the “act”, from every angle – a veritable gallery of horrors.
In the courtroom, faces say it all
We will not see these photos, and fortunately, at the trial which opens this Thursday, May 30, 2024 before the Savoie Assizes. But four years after the events, these absent images stand out in everyone’s heads… In the courtroom, the faces say a lot: it is not a simple feminicide that we are trying today. It’s much more. And it’s much worse.
— It’s a “supermurder”! thunders the lawyer for the civil parties. We not only sought to kill, but to destroy…
Explinations ? Neither the defense nor the accused really brings any. There is alcohol, of course, Catherine’s illness, life at the RSA, sexual frustration… Experts will go so far as to mention the late adoption of Louis Robert Bret, a Costa Rican child of origin, and the lack of love from which he would have suffered. But nothing that could justify his terrifying savagery.
In his box, the man does nothing to mitigate his responsibility.
“I committed a horrible act,” he admits, looking consumed with remorse. I killed my wife with my own hands, and it disgusts me, having acted like a necrophiliac… What else can I tell you?
What else, indeed? Sharing his disgust, the jurors sentenced him, on Friday the 31st, to twenty-five years of imprisonment.
An investigation by Christophe Guerra.
