Wash This Blood Clean from My Hand by Fred Vargas

Author:Fred Vargas [Vargas, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-36611-5
Publisher: Knopf Canada
Published: 2007-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

Laliberté had placed himself in his official chair, which was vaguely imposing, and was flanked by his two inspectors, both standing alongside. Adamsberg was familiar with this triangular scenario, intended to impress suspects. He had not had time to take in the atrocious knowledge that Noëlla had been murdered with a trident in Quebec. He was concentrating on Laliberté’s ambiguous behaviour, which might indicate that he suspected Adamsberg’s links with the girl. But nothing seemed certain. The game was a difficult one to play, and he would have to weigh every word from the superintendent. The fact that he had slept with Noëlla had nothing to do with her murder, so he must absolutely forget it for now. And prepare himself to meet every possibility, drawing on the power of his passive forces, the safest defences of his private citadel.

‘Ask your men to sit down, Aurèle. I know the system, and it’s disagreeable. Anyone would think you’ve forgotten I’m a policeman myself.’

Laliberté waved Portelance and Philippe-Auguste to the side. They both took out notebooks, preparing to make notes.

‘Is this an interrogation?’ Adamsberg asked, pointing to them. ‘Or am I just helping you with your enquiries?’

‘Don’t bite my head off, Adamsberg. They’re just taking notes for the record that’s all.’

‘Don’t bite mine off either, Aurèle. I’ve been up twenty-two hours and you know it. That letter,’ he added. ‘Let’s see the letter.’

‘I’ll read it to you,’ said Laliberté, opening a thick green file. ‘Corderon murder. See Commissaire J.-B. Adamsberg, Paris Crime Squad. Has taken a personal interest in it.’

‘Tendentious,’ Adamsberg commented. ‘Is that why you’re acting like a cop? You told them in Paris that it was a case I’d been working on. Here, you seem to think I took an interest in this woman.’

‘Don’t put words in my mouth.’

‘Well don’t take me for an idiot either. Let me see the letter.’

‘You want to check what it says?’

‘Precisely.’

There was not a word more on the sheet of paper, which seemed to have come from an ordinary printer.

‘You took fingerprints, of course.’

‘It was clean.’

‘When did you get it?’

‘When the body surfaced.’

‘Surfaced from where?’

‘From the water. It was frozen into the ice. Remember the cold spell last week? The body must have stayed put till it thawed. She was found Wednesday. We got the letter next day at midday.’

‘So she must have been killed before the freeze, if the murderer could throw her in the water.’

‘No, the murderer had broken the ice, pushed her under, and weighted her down with stones. The ice froze over again in the night like a lid.’

‘How can you tell that?’

‘The victim had bought herself a new belt that day. She was wearing it. We know where she ate her supper and what she ate. See, with the cold, the stomach contents stayed quite fresh. Now we know the date and time of the murder. No need to ask me more questions on that kind of stuff, we’re specialists here.’

‘Isn’t that a bit suspicious, an anonymous letter turning

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