Murder at the Louvre by Jim Eldridge

Author:Jim Eldridge [Eldridge, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

While Daniel tucked into a full breakfast the next morning, Abigail browsed through the newspaper inbetween nibbling at her croissant. She was in mid-bite when she saw an item that made her stop.

‘My God!’ she said, shocked.

‘What?’ asked Daniel.

‘You remember Auguste Perrier telling us about the Dreyfus case?’

Daniel nodded.

‘You remember that Auguste said people had been attacked and killed because of it. Well, it seems that Dreyfus’s lawyer, Fernand Labori, was shot yesterday while on his way to the court in Rennes.’

‘Killed?’

‘No, but badly injured. He was shot in the back by an assassin who then got away.’ She looked at Daniel, concerned. ‘It puts a new perspective on what Superintendent Maison told me about Flamand possibly being killed by the army.’

‘In that case, it’s lucky for us that we’re not involved in the case,’ said Daniel.

They were aware of someone arriving at their table, and they looked up to see Edgar Belfont.

‘Good morning,’ he said. ‘I decided to try and catch you before you started on your day.’

‘Won’t you join us?’ asked Abigail, gesturing at an empty chair at a nearby table.

‘Thank you,’ said Belfont, bringing the chair to the table and sitting down. ‘Not for breakfast, though. I’ve already had mine. But a cup of coffee would be nice.’

Abigail gestured for him to pour himself a cup from the jug.

‘I’ve found out about the club Flamand used to frequent,’ he told them. ‘It’s called Teatro. As the name suggests, it’s a favourite haunt of the theatre community: actors, directors, playwrights, set designers, dancers. A pal of mine called Kenneth Walton goes there now and then. He’s a ballet dancer, and very good. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make a go of it in England because of prejudice. It’s all right to be a male ballet dancer there if you’re Russian, or from somewhere exotic, but parts of Birmingham are not very friendly in some areas of life. So he came to France and joined a ballet company in Paris, with great success. He’s changed his first name to Vladimir, but he’s kept Walton because he wants his name known. I think he sees himself returning to Birmingham in triumph, the homecoming hero.’

‘As Vladimir Walton?’

Belfont chuckled. ‘I believe Birmingham has a substantial Russian expatriate population. Kenneth – or Vladimir – has agreed to accompany you to Teatro. You need someone who’s known there if you want to get people to talk to you. I suggest you get together privately before you go to Teatro to tell him what you’re looking for. I’ve told him about the professor being murdered, but only the bare outlines. Would it be all right if I brought him here to meet you? He’s quite a flamboyant character, possibly a bit too flamboyant for the embassy.’

‘That would be excellent,’ said Daniel. ‘Thank you, Edgar.’

Captain Chevignon sat in the café outside the national barracks, a cup of coffee on the table beside him as he read the newspaper with ever-increasing despair. The traitor Dreyfus’s lawyer, Labori, had only been wounded.

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