Monsieur Pamplemousse Rests His Case by Michael Bond

Author:Michael Bond [Michael Bond]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780749018863
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2015-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

His task completed, he passed it under the door and waited for some kind of reaction. His only reward was another burst of giggling.

He was about to remonstrate when a dog barked. The others must have heard it too, for without another word they disappeared down the corridor. Once again there was a shout followed by silence.

Peering through the open window he made out the familiar shape of Pommes Frites crouched in a patch of weeds on the far side. Pommes Frites was much too well trained to give any sign that he had seen his master, but he gradually eased his way across the yard on his stomach until he reached the pile of machinery below the window where he waited, his tail moving gently to and fro.

Monsieur Pamplemousse allowed himself to be seen for a brief moment, then threw Mrs Van Dorman’s purse down to him. Pommes Frites sniffed it once. The message was clear without his master having to utter so much as a word.

Once again, as had so often happened in the past, it was a case of cherchez la femme.

Following a trail carefully laid at strategic points on the outward journey, Pommes Frites set off into the darkness, glad that at long last there was something concrete to do.

Monsieur Pamplemousse watched until he had disappeared from view. It would be some while before he would see Pommes Frites again, but that he would see him before the night was over he had little doubt.

He wondered if the recipients of his note were making equal efforts on his behalf. Somehow, he doubted it. Perhaps all three were tucked up in bed hard at work on more drawings.

Unable to check the hour by virtue of a handicap which Messrs Cupillard Rième could scarcely have been expected to foresee when they designed the dial of his wrist watch, Monsieur Pamplemousse sat down to wait, counting off in his mind first the seconds, then the minutes.

As an exercise in passing the time it soon began to pall, and he had long since given up making the effort when he heard the sound of an engine. And not just any old engine; it was the unmistakable noise made by the 602cc flat-twin, air-cooled engine of a Citroën deux chevaux.

It stopped some distance away and then there was silence again. Mrs Van Dorman was learning fast. Straining his eyes for any sign of movement, Monsieur Pamplemousse stationed himself by the open window. Doubtless Pommes Frites would lead the way; and what was perhaps even more important, it would be done quietly and stealthily so as to avoid waking any of the others. He would be in his element. With luck, there wouldn’t be much longer to wait.

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