CHAPTER ONE: ATTACKS TO RECOVERY
June 6, 1695, a rider crosses peacefully Balleret wood in the forest Amognes. Dom Jean Vignault, Benedictine monk, prior of the monastic priory of St. Révérien, heads to Nevers and Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier. In a large bag that is attached to the saddle between his clothes and some provisions of mouth, he carefully placed a large red morocco portfolio, with several leaves are tight, testimonies, statements, expert reports . The religious
goes to court in the Bailiwick. It will file more complaints against Dom Michel Chery, canon and treasurer of the Cathedral of Nevers, and commendatory Abbot of St. Révérien, that is to say, his superior.
The task will not be easy because the man he attacked was born into an influential family of the old nobility Nevers. Michael, son of Francis Chery and Jeanne d'Armes, was born August 31, 1632. Bachelor of Theology, priest, canon of Nevers, he was appointed treasurer of the cathedral of Saint-Cyr in 1667. He received the benefit of the Priory of St. Révérien; without permanent residence, he receives significant revenues that provide several farms, tithes and donations from villagers. Before him, this benefit was held by Edward Vallot, then by Eustace of Chery, both bishops of Nevers. Eustache Chery is the uncle of the new prior commendatory.
Vignault John, a Benedictine monk, was appointed in 1695 prior cloister of Saint-Révérien. He is responsible for administering and directing the priory monks, the spiritual as the material. Dom Jean Vignault replaced his cousin Dom John Lavenne (founder of the Sisters of Charity of Nevers). The other monks of the priory of St. Dom Révérien are Gueneau Toussaint, Dom Dom Alexis Paulin and Bernard Giraud. Dom Jean
Vignault engages in a covered walkway called the Way Tight. In this location, the foliage join to hide the light: it is a real cut-throat than borrow travelers with apprehension.
Exactly, that day, the priest fell into a trap. Two gun shots rang suddenly. One bullet pierced his hat Dom Vignault, three fingers of the cord. A little lower and it was death. The monk saw two people fleeing through the undergrowth. He later gave a description of one of his assailants, "a young man of slender waist, her face brown and black hair, dressed in brown stuff, and armed with a pistol belt.
few weeks later, investigators easily identify the shooter: it's a Johnny, "said the Bastard, Michel Servant Dom Dom Jean Chery ...
Vignault is free. A doctor Corbigny, Sieur Chauveau, is responsible for examining the man of art finds no injuries or scratches. The religious, however, understood that he has enemies bent on its destruction, and that they will resume as soon as they can.
The opportunity is Friday, October 7 below. After saying Mass, the prior of St. Révérien fate of his church and into a half-ruined house to meet some requirements. While passes under the stairs, it has the unpleasant surprise down two heavy stone steps. A reflex prompt the immune precipitates and it is only superficially touched by rubble. Dom Jean
Vignault think that these first steps have fallen by accident, and he himself had triggered their fall building a wall shaking. But just as he prepares to leave the house in ruins, he sees a strange noise coming from upstairs.
A man is there, he does not know that he has never seen before, but the threat immediately, "armed with a pistol and a sword in sheath," a man "of size average, quite large, with black hair and brown between, covered with a fair-to-gray body. "The attacker draws the gun. Vignault Fortunately for Don, the ball is lost in the stones. So the henchman falls on the religious and he began to hit him with the butt of his pistol. He injured his head and puts it in blood.
The fight continues on the ground. The priest managed to take advantage and, for nearly a quarter of an hour (according to his own testimony), it keeps him firmly under his opponent, he grabbed the hair. He steals his sword and the breeze. Yet again the attacker suddenly above. On one stretch of his sword, he hits Dom Vignault on the face, skull, chest. It carries more than thirty lashes. Leaving him for dead, he fled into the woods Champallement.
However, the prior of St. Révérien again escapes death. He alerted the villagers who come to her rescue and took him at his home. They searched the house in ruins and quickly find compelling evidence that an attack had been organized. The killer left his hat, a nightcap, containing a flask of wine, a loaf of bread attached to the gourd, pears and baked apples, clogs, shoes, gun damaged a canvas bag. This bag, which was the normal use contain grain had been cut and drilled like a hood. Several residents of St. Révérien remember now that they have met during the previous three days, a beggar dressed in this sort of cap.
Tongues are loosened. Neighbors contend that the October 4 to 7, smoke escaped from the chimney of the house reserved for the commendatory prior, so that nobody officially resided nor Dom Michel Chery one of his servants . Another villager said that several people wanted to rescue Dom Vignault during the assault, but has a particular prevented.
- A little dry, this first chapter. I faithfully took the notes I had scribbled the Departmental Archives. Maybe he should embroider, add some details about the decor, the dress of monks. By the way, how were they dressed? In coarse black or brown? When Dom Vignault went to St. Peter on horseback, he must have had a more practical costume.
And the protagonists? It will provide a more complete was Michel de Chery. His pedigree is not enough. I see an abbot of living in powdered wigs, traveling in a sedan chair. No. In Nevers, it would be rare. Rather nobliau in a hunting outfit. We will see in chapter three. As for
Bastard, there are two excesses to avoid with such a character: the caricature of the Ugly scarred, like the comics we have too often presented as the bandits or the Court of Miracles, by contrast, the gentle servant, devoted body and soul to his master, is not suitable. We'll see over the narrative.
I still have to find a general title. Bah, Thierry will certainly help me. I trust him. Hopefully he has not forgotten ...
Proofreading systematically to improve the pen .... Oh, he's smart This automatic correction, he wrote to pen style. And I can no longer type properly. It is time to go to bed. Jerome? You watch TV until what time? Well, add (CONTINUED ...) and I record.
Tomorrow is another day ...
CHAPTER II: A MUST START AT
- Hello, mister Leray! So you're enjoying the Grenier à Sel rue?
- When I finished installing my office, I think it will be perfect. Give me a wand and cast a focaccia with olives, please, Mrs. Rondot.
- Well, sir Leray. You do not r'grettez Paris, anyway?
- Oh my, no! More congestion and more affordable rent. I think it's the future for my job with computers, more problems, the daily work in the countryside and some jumps chip in the capital, once or twice a month to meet with colleagues or for salons. Thierry Leray
is back in the Nièvre, after thirty years of wandering. In France, the publishing business have a tendency to concentrate their pharmacies in a microcosm that spans a few hundred meters on both sides of the boulevard Saint-Germain and Saint Michel. Thierry Leray learned his craft at some of these publishers in Paris, that the ruthless law of the market wiped out, year after year, at the option of mergers, takeovers and other stock transactions. He lived through all the secondary roles, jobs insecure: courier, warehouse, reader, proofreader, translator casual language that had not mastered, illustrator, inker of comics, scout new talent ephemera, old negro in the service celebs eager to spread their privacy, a freelance literary journals disappearing before the end of the first subscription. Yet this busy life was not without attractions, despite the uncertainty of tomorrow. Until one day ...
new editions of the twentieth century had to file for bankruptcy Dec. 31, 2000, a symbolic date for this house founded in 1901 by Baguenaud Onesimus, a coal merchant came to Paris from his native Cantal, full of ideas and ambition: inventor of vertical grinder, utensil adopted by all his fellow patrons of bars, restaurants and bistros of Paris, he made his fortune in a few months and he had invested his profits in a publishing house devoted to technical progress. But one hundred years later, scientific publishing has diversified, it has been challenged by Internet and lack of departmental grants, she was scraping away behind the ubiquitous corner-Saxon monopoly
... On the advice of a colleague , unemployed like him, met with the ANPE the street from Flanders, Thierry Leray decided to start a small independent house, specializing in novels regionalist, a new fashion was born with the millennium. The choice of port as Nivernais was imposed automatically: it Nevers he had his secondary education, two mutations of his father, Inspector of Excise, just before the divorce of his parents.
A large building was rent in Decize. In an ancient street, quiet, close enough to the shops. This is where he resides Imagination Workshop, his publisher seeking authors. Nièvre was, before his return, a sort of desert editorial. His only competitor was a small company of Clamecy, summarized in a single founder-editor-agent-player, strong and a dozen talented writers unlikely. The four companies academic department only published very irregularly booklets for their members, and often illegible.
is why, this morning, Thierry Leray was the Rue Saint-Just whistling Chant du Depart, the baguette under his left arm and a basket full of fruits and vegetables in your other hand.
- Hello factor! The day promises to be hot ...
- Yes, the mail and more and heavier. It suggests that people start writing. Here, while j'vous crosses, I have several packages for you. Wait ... There they are ... And then a dozen envelopes ... Pubs, I think.
- Thank factor. And good tour! If you have a chance, stop a minute. At number 5. I just moved.
- Not today. Service, service. But one of these days I'm not saying. You are also a man of letters, I understand. So, between colleagues ...
Thierry Leray box packages, envelopes and papers from the cauliflower, carrots and mandarin oranges. There will be plenty of time to rob the mail this afternoon.
The first manuscripts of the Imagination Workshop. And why not the gem? This beautiful winter day, it would be a good start.
The apprentice editor cast a quick eye on the adverts Delbord nurseries, two wine merchants offering their Beaujolais and Burgundy, a consolidated tax receipt in exchange for a donation to Handicap International, an invitation to subscribe to the Red Cross, Murprotec the Royal Jelly ... So many papers to line the bottom of the trash.
- Now for the packets. Hum! This one is a case to be completed for ASSEDIC. The other, then thinner, a series of photos that Marie-Claude sent me, "in remembrance of the 80" focus moving, yeah ... Oh! Finally ... A manuscript. "Murder at the Priory" by Odile Garnier. Read his first letter. Thierry Leray
its branch micro-channel stereo, because he hates to read in silence. It is a CD Memphis Slim and it is the first chords of "Wish Me Well" he unfolded the letter of his first potential client.
Odile Garnier
25, rue Boigues
FOURCHAMBAULT
58600 Tel. 03 37 24 63 11
November 16, 2006 Dear Mr.
Leray,
I read in the Journal of the Centre''''last October 25 an insert announcing your installation recent Decize. A publishing house so close to my home and a specialized editor in detective novels, the boon that I expected more! For over twenty years, I write. I have in a closet for nearly thirty novels, some close to finishing, in other drafts.
Before I explain the genesis of the text that I address you, let me introduce myself briefly. I do not totally unknown. No doubt you remember the classic class II A 2 High School in 1965-66. I sat in the row from left, two tables in front of you. Odile Marchand, was my name. In March 1966, I changed school, my parents enrolled me in a school in Bourges. We have been classmates for two quarters and I have not had many opportunities to attend you, I do not go out, I was pretty screwed at home. Our only common memories are our top spots tied to the compositions of French. I was pretty good at writing essays. In fact, I became a teacher of literature.
I practice my profession at the College of The Guerche twelve years. Previously, I lived and worked in Africa and Latin America, where my husband was responsible for construction (construction of metallurgical and chemical plants). We have three children, two married and settled in the city of Clermont-Ferrand. Enough
told about my little person.
Here are some details about the bizarre coincidences that led me to write "Murder at the Priory." I am a member of two societies which operate patients and obscure research Departmental Archives of Nièvre: Genealogical Society of Nivernais and the Academic Society of Nièvre. Two associations that bring together a handful of former teachers and bookworms idle. I found, at least initially, a derivative of everyday mediocre college, infantilism, routine. And then I found myself in the game: each decrypted document started me in a kind of police investigation.
So I traveled on large bundles in the Nivernais justice under the Ancien Regime. I will spare you the quotes and references. The murder of a monk, sponsored by another monk, intrigued me and I could never reach a solution, documents are often incomplete. But this murder, perpetrated around the priory of St. Révérien, put me on the trail of another murder, serious consequences, committed long after, in the same places. First I wrote two separate folders for communications and publications at the Academic Society, whose leaders are very fond of bloody news items - provided they are historical - these old men do bloodthirsty would not hurt a fly.
last year by consulting other archival records of the Liberation of the department, I had the idea of composing a novel semi-historical. I send you the first part which covers only the first "Murder at the Priory." If this text and this project interests you, we can meet and I will present more detail later in the novel.
Sincerely, ...
- Ah, yes! Early Odile, a brunette a bit shy. Let us look at the text ...
CHAPTER THREE: A MONK
WHEEL AND A NEW CUSTOMER
William Sarget, principal clerk of the court of Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier, the judge summarizes the long-Pierre Alixand report explains in great detail the third attack, in which the unfortunate Dom Jean Vignault could not escape:
- "On 14 January the following year, 1696, one day on Saturday, said Jean Vignault Dom returned to the city of Charity convent in his home of St. Révérien. "He had to drive several Benedictine monks of Cluny. He arrived about five o'clock in the evening, he descended from his horse was given to a laborer who was with him, which he has also given the key to the door of his house to put his horse in the stable. "And in that moment, two fellows who had retired and harboring three or four days ago in the basement of the old ruinous house near the hall and convent of the house came out of that cellar, armed with rifles and bayonets, fired two shots at Dom said Vignault, threw him down and gave him more than thirty bayonets, head and other parts of his body, and a cruelty that horrified him cut his throat, slit your lungs and heart, then stole, took his money, his papers and a silver watch which had been seen shortly after around the city of St. Saulge. "
At the sound of gunshots, a couple is out of a nearby house shouting "murder!" But a stooge of the murderers, also armed with a rifle, threatened witnesses and spoke to the woman in these words: "This will not stop screaming buggeress ! of Assured not be pursued, the three men withdrew from the side of Neuilly.
J. Alixand smiled and informed the clerk of his skepticism:
- You can still ask some questions about the vigilance and community outreach that the villagers have neglected this opportunity. Dom Vignault had already been two assassination attempts, one of which took place in broad daylight in the center of the village, leaving the mass. The murder took place at the same location, just steps from the hall where, at that precise moment, several carpenters and clowns were busy unloading a beam. Cowardice complicity, indifference or recklessness? William
Sarget has no definite opinion, this is not within his prerogatives. He continues:
- The investigation lasted until October 1698. Soon enough, the judges find that the murderers took advantage of numerous aid. The set of assumptions leads inevitably to Dom Michel Chery, rival and superior Vignault Dom. After
package, the killers were dispersed. One of them has engaged in an infantry company, where he commits the imprudence to show other soldiers a purse full of gold coins and silver. The second killer is identified in a castle belonging to the family of Chery, he shaved his head, he was given a wig and a note for a thousand crowns, a considerable sum. The last accomplice, who has retained the inhabitants of St. Révérien, gets arrested, he escaped from prison in Nevers few days later, using his fetters with a file that has been provided by a mysterious priest. ..
The three men were identified. They are servants or henchmen of Dom Michel Chery: there John (or Johnny) Bidault, surnamed the Bastard, an orphan raised in the house of prior commendatory. Jean Clement, said the Morvandeau, is a servant of Michel de Chery.
The third, a certain Pierre Leduc, he was arrested in July 1697 near Luzy. J. Denis Nault receiving testimony from Denis Dubuis, superintendent of the local prison, and his wife Denise Perrot. They hold for four to five days a man named Peter or Lapiare, accused of stealing a mare and a colt belonging to Mr. Gauthé, host Rémilly. The constabulary of Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier should pick him for transfer to prisons presidial.
Peter, whose name is actually Pierre Leduc, was imprudent confidences to his jailers. "He talked the monk who was killed, he was sentenced to be beaten and held in Nevers because of the death of fellow monks. [...] He did pay to have killed a monk ... "Judge Nault seeks may well be that boastful murderer. With him, and with investigators presidial, we discover a disconcerting figure. Peter Leduc has thirty years. He practiced as a draper in Nevers, near the hospital. He has been married for a year and a half, and his wife reside Rémilly. Himself, he led a wandering life very, making long stays at Alais in Languedoc, then returning in the Nivernais. He stayed some time at Lanty, in a certain Henry Chopin, whom he told a strange story: One day a man had wanted to sleep a passerby in his room, and this person had slain. Leduc did he warn his guest? For what purpose?
Leduc was in regular contact with Michel Chery and with his cronies, the murder of Don Vignault. There are several letters he sent, especially Claude Durgon, dentist or lawyer in Luzy, holds in his possession, and should probably pass to Dom Michel Chery:
"Sir, you are cause I'm in the forest. This is not evil I did, was stolen the money you gave me. Four peasants took me and took me to jail. Mr. Nault, Judge Luzy, for your consideration, I have seen a lot and come out tomorrow. [...] I want to be paid for the ticket that Mr. your uncle gave to Mr. Fish for giving me the note [sic]. Mr Laudard has concealed the silverware that Dom Dom Giraud had stolen Vignault. Mr your uncle gave his gun to his bastard and told him to go wait on the bridge of Saint-Honore and beat a monk is quite dead. "
Another letter sent by Mr. Leduc has reached Dauveau, priest Rémilly. It is intended for a certain M. de Caumont. This letter reveals that the murder of Dom was a veritable conspiracy Vignault sponsored by several influential figures:
"Mr La Vernière gave his valet Dom Giraud to assassinate the man. If he would have done, Mr. La Forest gave two dragons. [...]''
The ringing phone interrupts Thierry Leray in the middle of a paragraph. Irritated, he closes the workbook, wins and launches a surly tone:
- Yes?
- Hello! I am M. Leray, publisher?
- is himself. ... What is your
- Excuse me. About Me: Joel Lenoir, author of novels and comic booklets. I practice other skills at the Lycée Maurice Genevoix, but for the first aforesaid talent that I call you. I intend to change the dairy and I had the idea to contact you. Thierry Leray
thinks a moment to hang up, believing the victim of a prankster. He sighs loudly into the handset. His voluble speaker is always on the line, as a tenacious leech:
- That's my problem. I had the misfortune last year to tie my hands and feet with a [censored] ... You know Silver and Shadow?
Leray brazenly replied that he knows what mask or Eve to Adam, although he recognized the name of the county only competitor, a box located in the small town of Clamecy. With a potential client should be cautious. Its corresponding
embarked on a lengthy screed. After a verse on the dishonesty of property editors, printers, book dealers and publishers of the entire universe, after a self-promoting his work unforgettable, the modestly named Lenoir proposes new editor to make the operation of the century : The complete edition of thirty-two thrillers Nivernais, he proposes to deliver one to one each quarter through 2015. The author does not claim that a moderate percentage of 16% on sales. He assured his future partner - is the term he uses - that fame and fortune are at the end of the road, the whole press is already won to the great cause, it is already the guest honor of all the salons and literary events of the four departments of the Burgundy, Radio Morvandelle of RSN, RTL, RMC, and that he has booked a stand Book Fair at Saint-Honoré-les-Bains and the Frankfurt Book Fair next year and a table at Drouot with two members of the Académie Goncourt (whose names he was so carefully) and that the Silver Mask [censored] will make jaundice
... Three quarters of an hour later, Thierry Leray hangs up, exhausted. He already regrets his last words: he accepted that the brilliant author sent him a manuscript, Carnage rue Carnot. Little wonder, according to the writer.
It's too late to resume the Murder at the Priory. Moreover, in the head Thierry Leray, all mixed into a stew bloody, the Benedictine monk wears a silver mask, the novelist Lenoir lying on the straw cell Luzy, Dom Michel Chery sign blank checks and the Bastard listening to rap on her Walkman. To remove these demonic visions, the editor in grass rolls a joint, opens a bottle of Muscat and its branch chain on Radio South Nivernais.
CHAPTER FOUR: AS YOU WILL ...
- "On 14 January the following year, 1696, one day on Saturday, said Jean Vignault Dom returned to the city of Charity convent in his home of St. Révérien. "He had to drive several Benedictine monks of Cluny. He arrived about five o'clock in the evening, he descended from his horse was given to a laborer who was with him, which he has also given the key to the door of his house to put his horse in the stable. "And in that moment, two fellows who had retired and harboring three or four days ago in the basement of the old ruinous house near the hall and convent of the house came out of that cellar, armed with rifles and bayonets, fired two shots at Dom said Vignault, threw him down and gave him more than thirty bayonets, head and other parts of his body, and a cruelty that horrified him cut his throat, slit your lungs and heart, then stole, took his money, his papers and a silver watch which had been seen shortly after around the city of St. Saulge. "
At the sound of gunshots, a couple is out of a nearby house shouting "murder!" But a stooge of the murderers, also armed with a rifle, threatened witnesses and spoke to the woman in these words: "This will not stop screaming buggeress ! of Assured not be pursued, the three men withdrew from the side of Neuilly.
J. Alixand smiled and informed the clerk of his skepticism:
- You can still ask some questions about the vigilance and community outreach that the villagers have neglected this opportunity. Dom Vignault had already been two assassination attempts, one of which took place in broad daylight in the center of the village, leaving the mass. The murder took place at the same location, just steps from the hall where, at that precise moment, several carpenters and clowns were busy unloading a beam. Cowardice complicity, indifference or recklessness? William
Sarget has no definite opinion, this is not within his prerogatives. He continues:
- The investigation lasted until October 1698. Soon enough, the judges find that the murderers took advantage of numerous aid. The set of assumptions leads inevitably to Dom Michel Chery, rival and superior Vignault Dom. After
package, the killers were dispersed. One of them has engaged in an infantry company, where he commits the imprudence to show other soldiers a purse full of gold coins and silver. The second killer is identified in a castle belonging to the family of Chery, he shaved his head, he was given a wig and a note for a thousand crowns, a considerable sum. The last accomplice, who has retained the inhabitants of St. Révérien, gets arrested, he escaped from prison in Nevers few days later, using his fetters with a file that has been provided by a mysterious priest. ..
The three men were identified. They are servants or henchmen of Dom Michel Chery: there John (or Johnny) Bidault, surnamed the Bastard, an orphan raised in the house of prior commendatory. Jean Clement, said the Morvandeau, is a servant of Michel de Chery.
The third, a certain Pierre Leduc, he was arrested in July 1697 near Luzy. J. Denis Nault receiving testimony from Denis Dubuis, superintendent of the local prison, and his wife Denise Perrot. They hold for four to five days a man named Peter or Lapiare, accused of stealing a mare and a colt belonging to Mr. Gauthé, host Rémilly. The constabulary of Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier should pick him for transfer to prisons presidial.
Peter, whose name is actually Pierre Leduc, was imprudent confidences to his jailers. "He talked the monk who was killed, he was sentenced to be beaten and held in Nevers because of the death of fellow monks. [...] He did pay to have killed a monk ... "Judge Nault seeks may well be that boastful murderer. With him, and with investigators presidial, we discover a disconcerting figure. Peter Leduc has thirty years. He practiced as a draper in Nevers, near the hospital. He has been married for a year and a half, and his wife reside Rémilly. Himself, he led a wandering life very, making long stays at Alais in Languedoc, then returning in the Nivernais. He stayed some time at Lanty, in a certain Henry Chopin, whom he told a strange story: One day a man had wanted to sleep a passerby in his room, and this person had slain. Leduc did he warn his guest? For what purpose?
Leduc was in regular contact with Michel Chery and with his cronies, the murder of Don Vignault. There are several letters he sent, especially Claude Durgon, dentist or lawyer in Luzy, holds in his possession, and should probably pass to Dom Michel Chery:
"Sir, you are cause I'm in the forest. This is not evil I did, was stolen the money you gave me. Four peasants took me and took me to jail. Mr. Nault, Judge Luzy, for your consideration, I have seen a lot and come out tomorrow. [...] I want to be paid for the ticket that Mr. your uncle gave to Mr. Fish for giving me the note [sic]. Mr Laudard has concealed the silverware that Dom Dom Giraud had stolen Vignault. Mr your uncle gave his gun to his bastard and told him to go wait on the bridge of Saint-Honore and beat a monk is quite dead. "
Another letter sent by Mr. Leduc has reached Dauveau, priest Rémilly. It is intended for a certain M. de Caumont. This letter reveals that the murder of Dom was a veritable conspiracy Vignault sponsored by several influential figures:
"Mr La Vernière gave his valet Dom Giraud to assassinate the man. If he would have done, Mr. La Forest gave two dragons. [...]''
The ringing phone interrupts Thierry Leray in the middle of a paragraph. Irritated, he closes the workbook, wins and launches a surly tone:
- Yes?
- Hello! I am M. Leray, publisher?
- is himself. ... What is your
- Excuse me. About Me: Joel Lenoir, author of novels and comic booklets. I practice other skills at the Lycée Maurice Genevoix, but for the first aforesaid talent that I call you. I intend to change the dairy and I had the idea to contact you. Thierry Leray
thinks a moment to hang up, believing the victim of a prankster. He sighs loudly into the handset. His voluble speaker is always on the line, as a tenacious leech:
- That's my problem. I had the misfortune last year to tie my hands and feet with a [censored] ... You know Silver and Shadow?
Leray brazenly replied that he knows what mask or Eve to Adam, although he recognized the name of the county only competitor, a box located in the small town of Clamecy. With a potential client should be cautious. Its corresponding
embarked on a lengthy screed. After a verse on the dishonesty of property editors, printers, book dealers and publishers of the entire universe, after a self-promoting his work unforgettable, the modestly named Lenoir proposes new editor to make the operation of the century : The complete edition of thirty-two thrillers Nivernais, he proposes to deliver one to one each quarter through 2015. The author does not claim that a moderate percentage of 16% on sales. He assured his future partner - is the term he uses - that fame and fortune are at the end of the road, the whole press is already won to the great cause, it is already the guest honor of all the salons and literary events of the four departments of the Burgundy, Radio Morvandelle of RSN, RTL, RMC, and that he has booked a stand Book Fair at Saint-Honoré-les-Bains and the Frankfurt Book Fair next year and a table at Drouot with two members of the Académie Goncourt (whose names he was so carefully) and that the Silver Mask [censored] will make jaundice
... Three quarters of an hour later, Thierry Leray hangs up, exhausted. He already regrets his last words: he accepted that the brilliant author sent him a manuscript, Carnage rue Carnot. Little wonder, according to the writer.
It's too late to resume the Murder at the Priory. Moreover, in the head Thierry Leray, all mixed into a stew bloody, the Benedictine monk wears a silver mask, the novelist Lenoir lying on the straw cell Luzy, Dom Michel Chery sign blank checks and the Bastard listening to rap on her Walkman. To remove these demonic visions, the editor in grass rolls a joint, opens a bottle of Muscat and its branch chain on Radio South Nivernais.
CHAPTER FOUR: AS YOU WILL ...
This morning, Thierry Leray wakes up in a bad mood. The vapors of the evening were not allayed by noon consecutively heavy sleep. Crossed back aches, Editor limp in a chair, opens a can of Jenlain and resumed reading the manuscript
Sieur de La Vernière gave a sword and a bayonet to his valet and powder and told him to kill that man and , without taking a penalty of Roy, I am asking 500 pounds to restore and I get out of France. I pray to God and the Virgin Mary that you do not oblige me more to write. "
- Sieur de La Ferriere, you say? The Marquis?
- No, sir, that M. de La Vernière , a former artillery officer.
- Oh, good! "I thought my friend the Marquis was involved in this case. I should have felt very sorry ... Well, William, repeat!
- Since his escape from Nevers, Pierre Leduc feels hunted. Sentenced in absentia, he could see his sentence carried out. This will be the death or the galleys. So he does not hesitate to challenge all those who, directly or indirectly benefited from the death of Dom Vignault, who believe themselves above all suspicion. Claude Durgon in part, the more he plays double game has received a few days earlier, the father of the murdered religious, Jean Vignault Aisne, St. Saulge merchant. It has filed suit against Chery Dom Michel when he learned of the murder of his son. Noting Then the case got bogged down, he searched himself murderers. He found traces of Pierre Leduc and has installed at the Auberge du Cheval Blanc Luzy. The unexpected presence may explain the panic of Leduc. A Pierre Leduc, who wanted to flee on horseback who was caught when he stole the mare and foal Gauthé the innkeeper. Now, certain to be condemned by the judges of Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier, he denounced the judge Nault all those responsible for the Case of Saint-Révérien. Let
facts since January 14, 1696. John Clement and Jean Bidault-the-Bastard John Vignault massacred Dom. Pierre Leduc was acting Sentinel and he undertook to remove a couple of witnesses. Prior's death has benefited one of his monks, Dom Giraud, and several people who looted his house. To organize the escape of his henchmen, Michel Chery has appealed to many nobles of his friends: Mr. Fish, Mr. de Caumont, M. La Vernière. Claude Durgon and served as pastor of Rémilly mailboxes fugitive Pierre Leduc and transmitted blackmail letters addressed to those he considered responsible for the crime.
This murder is especially the last episode in a turbulent and violent rivalry between the prior and the prior commendatory cloister. Rivalry primarily due to the vindictiveness of the first. Over twenty-five years prior, Dom Michel Chery is cited repeatedly in the records of criminal cases in the Bailiwick. The recall of these trials reveals the personality of this little church recommended.
August 16, 1672, Dom Michel Chery fought with Toussaint Dameron, innkeeper at St. Révérien. The reason for the brawl: a banal case of pigeons. Dameron fired the gun that the birds were doing damage in plantations. However, the pigeons came mostly from the loft of the prior and Dom Michel Chery wanted to confiscate, in retaliation, the innkeeper's gun. The latter received prior to the punches.
August 30, 1677, Dom Michel Chery is embroiled in a murder. This time, there is nothing. On the high road to St. Saulge to Clamecy, William Grandpierre said Jassemin, hack commendatory Abbot of St. Révérien, was slain by the Davaut John Young, the company's jumper Sr Meadow Guipy regiment Montal; The soldier returned drunk to the hive. A month later, the murderer gets letters of remission.
March 8, 1684, Master de Sacy, a lawyer, wrote to Dom Jean Vignault a very specific memory containing conclusions a Enquest on Debauchery and impious About Dom Michel Chery. The latter is summoned by Master Francis Bouzitat, King's Counsel before the Board and the canons of the cathedral church in the hall of the chapter's official status. And he must face a cascade of various charges.
Two priests around Saint-Révérien, Jacques Lambert, pastor of Lasch and Louis Berger are heard as witnesses. They state that "Sr Chery has in his house and a woman suspected of ill repute called the Nolotte because she is married to the man named Nolot. She is at home all day and much of the night, which causes a lot scandal. [...] That woman has not made his Nolot Easter. "From Chery ignored his vows of chastity and it behaves as it does not lay ecclesiastical garb.
Sieur Louis Louault, 42 years, residing in Montenoison, "would have seen in the kitchen of Sr Chery paints dirty and indecent, indecent figures painted on the wall." Gabriel Lambert, 65, merchant Lasch, William Board, 38, laborer in the village Angles, Gilbert Commarin, Sergeant royal Rouy, Adrian Gaffney, 50, Rouy practitioner and other witnesses are still charging Dom Michel Chery ...
Finally, Dom Jean Vignault "humbly beseech the last five years it is the Priory, he has the misfortune of being the object of the passion of Michel Chery "which during the last two years," has brought to this end to abuse in his person. "preceding February 26, Dom Michel Chery gave him a beating," blaspheming the holy name of God. "Previously, Michel Chery would have bragged publicly before the bishop of Nevers it would give twenty blows with his rival.
The recriminations continued, varied, inexorable. The priory church is in ruins. Michel Chery has demolished the stables of Don John Vignault. "His regular job is hunting, it is usually the trumpet and his dogs barking during the Holy Mass to interrupt the priest at the altar."
"He goes by the formidable annoyances he has against the people. He has retained two bailiffs to his home in which he gave only forty sous a day and their food. He is working his servants the holidays and Sundays and even fish was unnecessarily on Palm Sunday during the Divine Service ... " The petition
Dom Vignault back on the lewdness and the dissolute morals of Dom Michel Chery. Her kitchen and bedroom are decorated with "indecent paintings representing nudity and debauchery." He lived with several successive mistresses. Among them, a girl "he maintained in pot and heat and even at his table," was married, with £ 200 paid to a complaisant husband, recently widowed, she gave birth, a few weeks after marriage and the husband has refused to recognize the child; Michel Chery was immediately carried off his bastard and he did move to an unknown location. The man and woman would then be dead of grief ...
The ecclesiastical court severely reprimanded Dom Michel Chery. His powerful family prevented him from more serious sanctions. Did he amended provided ? Not since October 5, 1686, two merchants of St. Révérien François Paillard Moireau and William, came to lodge a complaint against him with the judges of Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier. They were busy giving away the stones in a perrière wading on the highway to St. David Saulge appointed by the Turin Champlemy farmer, to whom the materials were intended. "Messire Michel Chery would have occurred at that place on horseback, and being ten paces from them, would have dismounted and took his two pistols, and having abandoned his horse, being against them, would have sent that Turin , saying: "mordieu who gave you support removing these stones? "Which Turin him would have said:" Sir, these are the people I sold them. "Paillard reportedly said:" Sir, I am entitled to sell, since I am a farmer. "At the same time said Chery Sr told him:" mordieu, naughty bugger of long ago that I seek you! Mordieu, I must kill you! "Saying these words, had presented a pistol in the breast, which gun would have missed him." This Prior
commendatory debauched, vindictive, quibbling, secure protection of his relatives and allies, it could coexist peacefully with Dom Jean Vignault, his principal accuser in front of his peers Canons? Since 1684, Michel Chery never stopped persecuting his rival, to frighten her, and then organizing his murder. "Thus ends
reading. The principal clerk, puts his last page, grabs the pitcher and pours himself a glass of claret wine, straight from the vine Riousse, he enjoyed small pleasures of the table. J. Alixand sharing this libation, he signed a note and lay the bag which is filled all the documents in a wheelbarrow, a domestic door swiftly the "case Vignault" the office of the ecclesiastical court. Where the investigation is still bogged down three years.
The century ends. Charles II, King of Spain, dies suddenly. Philip, Duke of Anjou, son of Louis XIV, succeeded him. Sir, the king's brother, goes from life to death. Northern European powers conspire against France. In Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier, Pierre Alixand sells its load to his nephew Francis, the ecclesiastical judges are replaced by minions of Bishop Eustace of Chery.
More than two hundred pieces constitute the record of this criminal case. The bishop and the ecclesiastical court had printed a summary, a monitory result to be thundered from the pulpit by priests in the churches of St. Révérien, St. Saulge circumjacent and parishes. Dom Michel Chery, whose honor has been tarnished and publicly, has probably escaped physical punishment. There is no record of what happened to Pierre Leduc, or if John the Bastard and Bidault Jean Clement Morvandeau were seized by the courts.
(LOOK)
- Not uninteresting ... But it's still too serious, too ... academic. And the lady seems impervious to the local color to the decor. The episodes listed at the end are worth developing, especially the business bawdy paintings, that's funny. It should also incorporate more cleverly original documents and the story, modernizing the spelling a little clerks, because the average reader can get lost.
I do not know if ... And this is my first client. It would be a shame to discourage it. I'll offer him some help. I'm not going clubbing. Preferential rate if it is actually the second-Odile Marchand A 2, ... and if she is still cute ... Well, I'll give it a go in the coming days.
CHAPTER FIVE: STRANGE FINDS
- What you think, Joel?
- It's still strange story. Two murders in two centuries away. But you can say what you want, I am convinced that there is no report
... - Maybe ... But in both cases, it was a battle between a despotic power and a certain idea freedom.
- Freedom? For the Maquis leader, agreed. For your monk is less obvious. It seems to me that the Benedictines were subjected to a very strict rule.
- Strict, but not unjust or arbitrary. I read the teachings of St. Benedict.
- Oh yeah? Is he expected the German occupation? And release of Nevers? Joëlle
Mignard, employee of the Municipal Library, remains skeptical. His girlfriend Odile Garnier beautiful wade to explain his draft novel, the alleged links between two murders, for her what are mere fabrications.
- I wish you much pleasure to sell your book. Nobody wants.
- You're wrong. I have already received a proposal. A guy who just moved to Decize. It has a lot of experience and specializes in thrillers. The Imagination Workshop is his name. We have an appointment next Friday I will go after school.
- there's something bothering me. For your Dom Jean Vignault, I understood where did your inspiration: B2 series of the Archives. But your maquis? It is also in a carton Archives? I thought the Gestapo files were missing ...
- OK for the documents of the Gestapo, the Germans burned them before running off. It is the letters of termination to the French police. And then there are still a few witnesses, though they rarely do ...
- And the memory that they wilt. Especially when they are asked intrusive questions. I have experienced About Cabo.
- You too, you're interested in Cabo?
- In 92, I was sort of tattered old copies of the press in 1944. Free Nièvre and the first deliveries of the Journal of the Centre. I photocopied and filed a series of trials against collaborators and resistance fighters ladles. But with all that, you can never write a novel, unless you change the names.
- That's what I did, of course! I do not want to tease a lawsuit with the heirs ...
Joëlle Mignard slips a one euro coin in the machine and reaches out cons the cup until it is completed.
- You do not want? A little bland, but it's hot here ... And you make me chatter ...
- Well, since you seem incredulous, I'll tell you how I ended in the murder of 8 September 44. It is because of the bombing.
- Bombardment? You mean the one in Nevers?
- No, that of Saincaize. The station was bombed the same night as that of Nevers, on the night of 15 to 16 July 1944. Planes of the RAF was able to prove a little later. And, to clear the tracks, the Germans gave the order to mobilize people across the county. Since we do was not enough, the cops have recovered thirty prisoners, not resistant, rather common rights, they had the promise that their sentences would be reduced. That's where my scene Gaby, a petty criminal ... of course I changed his name ... He was caught earlier this year in a raid. Trafficking in counterfeit documents. A recidivist. Several convictions because of black market, the time line. His business had been arranged in exchange for small services to the Gestapo ... And simultaneously to a network of military resistance, the ORA Hence police protection.
- Your Gaby reminds me of a double agent, a henchman of Cabo. That may be the same.
- Listen, Joel, there is no consensus here, with all the comings and goings. Assemble in the hall of the second is more calm, I left my bag up there ... I'll pass a copy of the novel. You read quietly and give me your opinion when you return it. See you next week! Six
September 1944, 7:00 am. Gerard Vasset opens its shutters. Place de la Prefecture is empty. No agent on duty behind the grill. Side of the Hotel de France, one car parking, B 14 Citroen. The doors are gaudy cross of Lorraine and V.
- Ever! They have already entered the city. Come see Helen! They're here!
- Who? Another convoy Boche. You'd better let the shutters ...
- No, the Resistance! I dunno if it's ours, or red. Better to wait a bit!
- With all the Fritz passing the bridge last night, I'm afraid that we attract trouble.
- Do not worry. I'm going down to the coffee instead. The boss will know him, it has branches everywhere!
- Be careful, Gerard! There's still a lot of collaborators in City ...
- Joel! You would not have a minute? They call me the town hall. Come to my place in the room first, please.
- Okay, Madame Gibon.
CHAPTER SIX: THE TOUR OF FACTORS
- My tour this s'ra here. Today, no tour of the streets. I strike. Lawrence, two bottles of sparkling wine and a glass for everyone. I water.
- Do not you think it is sufficiently watered, Popaul? Since this morning that i raining like cow piss ...
- do not care! At the Health Post and postal workers! You can not as i know we are shit, heads! Maint'nant ago merde / Someone could yield, productivity, stock prices and capital gains for shareholders. Then we remove the jobs with a vengeance and we, the pov's ragmen, we lengthen the tour. C'te manure chief im'a imposed half of Saint-Privé, in addition to the City and Saulaie all this kid with a bicycle. He may be new, the g'noux j'me hits in the frame. You go up the street M'VOYAIS Pendant dancer?
Jean-Paul Ragot factor first class, rose to power. At five years of retirement, the administration treats him like a dog! Today is market day, all by himself he made a strike, "united and in agreement with the base," as he proclaims. He lifted his foot and is about to lift the elbow.
Sports countertop were seated at two cables are delighted to share his sparkling. That the exchange of Muscadet and oysters usual and agree to abandon a moment the eternal debate about the composition of the XV of France to focus momentarily to the fortunes of the factor, just to make pay a second swig. At the other table, the clan of the forgotten veterans djebels and rice paddies, napalm and gegene and regrets with one voice the deteriorating condition postmistress. Oh, when they were youngsters, getting hired to Pétètes was the hideout, factors never refused a shot of red by the way, and then they were ... good service, they brought money to old people, drugs to bedridden, loaves of bread for pregnant women. There's even one that lugging around the last rites when the priest was bedridden with his rheumatism ...
- Why, it's Thierry! Come to lock a little! Thierry Leray
Decetia between the bar, dripping with the head to toe, a copy of the Journal of the Centre under the arm. He puts the duck on the radiator, so that the pages a little soggy find their original appearance and joined the group of drinkers.
- It's about what, your tasting Popaul?
- My tour of parts. No mail today. I'll throw my bag in Old Loire ...
- You 're not crazy? I expect two packages such manuscripts that I have to study and perhaps edit ...
- Do not worry, my Thierry, I put your mail aside. Hey, that's close to my wax. And it well because it's you, because I flush cap, me ... True true! Thierry Leray
captures the envelopes and examined carefully.
- More pubs. Plant protection products for your plantings. Quest for the orphans of the police. For war widows. For the overworked heart. For soft biceps. For the yellow pieces of mother Chichi. And insurance against hail, and even prepaid funeral in fifty monthly payments. It's amazing what you can hit us since Christmas ... Here, finally, an interesting cover, a shipment of Reverend Eric Mironton. Ah, this, like we have a fun longer. He called me last night. A sort of mystic poet, guru of a sect evangelical or Evangeline Evangelist, I missed the difference. He promised me a book of hymns of his own, with staves, agreements and the whole shebang to pray in rap. The other envelope, it should be a story for children. I've seen the first proofs. An old Inspector of Education, half senile who wants me to peddle his rantings.
- You've recovered Funny customers. You think you'll make your butter with these books?
- Fortunately, I 'm on a master stroke. A girl with whom I have an appointment tonight, a former high school girlfriend.
- Ah, what a joker, what Thierry. Well, fellas, I'll leave you. I will continue my tour at Café at the Hotel de Ville. Pétètes and live!
With that, Jean-Paul Ragot took his waxed, his cap, his bag and takes its momentum to cross the space between the drops. Thierry Leray sits, walks quickly his manuscripts that clearly seem to annoy him, unfolds the Journal of the Centre finally dry and immersed himself in reading the news items.
- Oh, shit! It is not possible!
- What are you reading? Lotto results? politely inquired about the bar owner.
- No. Listen a little. "Mysterious disappearance of a teacher. Odile G ... has not returned home since Tuesday morning Fourchambault. His family, worried, not having to return to his work at The College of Guerche, alerted the police the next night. The last people who saw the janitor are college and two of his students. They were heard by the Force. Odile's husband ... G gives his description: it is 57 years old, she wears glasses, his hair is combed in a ponytail, it measures 1.59 m, it is wearing a dark green jacket and a brown corduroy trousers. They ride in a Renault Clio Red 3762 registered SD 58. Any person who is requested to meet its reporting to the Force Fourchambault or at Mr. G ... Phone 03 86 and so on and so on ... ... "... G Odile, French teacher at The Guerche, but that I am meeting tonight ... my first client, and in addition, an old friend ... I hope he does it ...
nothing - not Moo! You alarmed now for nothing. If it 's location, it is en route to Decize. Go and wait for your house, your mouse, wholesale lucky!
CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BUSH OF BUSH
- She goes hard with the Resistance, Little Miss Odile. I dunno not what the veterans are going to think. I suspect it will attract libel. That may be why she started to green. Since his disappearance, I do not believe me ... Look, this ringtone! That's not the guitar ...
Thierry Leray lowers the tone of his mini-chain. Chuck Berry a final balance "Sweet Little Sixteen" decrescendo, leaving room for the phone ringing.
- Yes, Thierry Leray, the Edi ...
- Leray mister, I need you to draw urgent.
The stentorian voice of a virago, a Warrant Officer, a Commander, perhaps? Or the president of one of the many associations that plague the Third Age in the area?
- But who do I have the pleasure ...? timidly dares the publisher.
- brings me chicken, bookseller Faubourg.
- Boulet?
- No, Chicken, as volatile. That, in short, my proposal. Because me, I'm going straight to ...
- Like Marseille?
- What Marseille? Come, boy, do not confuse me! Laugh you know the Association under the slabs?
- No, but you will ...
- is a learned society, culture, founded by Decize a good friend of mine, who organizes an annual competition for new comedy, black humor specifically. Very high standard, I say. No question of vulgarity or Gallic. To celebrate fifteen years of our competition, we will print the texts of our top winners. Approximately 120 A4 pages. The layout was made by the librarian of the Lyceum, a very expert. You we need only find a cheap printer. You must know a lot ...
- Yes, but first I want to throw an eye on the composition.
- No way, my little gentleman. It's top secret. Work for members of our committee.
- So in this case I think you're wrong.
- It's a shame, young man! We were ready to assure you a bargain. Especially since we will collect substantial municipal subsidies. A gold mine ... you would
- ch ... Make that old! Thierry Leray
angrily hangs up. He rushes on the remote control of his TV and supports random.
- Oh, no! Not that one, we only see him ...
Indeed, the index of the publisher has accidentally switched the button TF1, a touch that usually takes care of grazing by "reasons of mental prophylaxis, as he usually says. And this afternoon rainy Sunday is dedicated to the Mini-Rite Sarkocésar ... What bad luck. Thierry Leray presto stops the ceremony and laid on his platinum disc of Jacques Brel.
- And any traveler no longer crossed the bridge since the death of the father or knows our names. Looks very small, looks good ! Yes, well look how small Odile has completed its second story of murder.
"Roger Floret crouched behind the mower and cocks his Luger. On the other side of the square, he saw Scrooge lying under a cart, Cardinal crouched in the doorway of the bakery Meret, Jacquin stashed in the old Citroen. He has to give the signal when the squad will enter the village FFI.
A fly comes flitting before his nose. Presence annoying. Floret cursed the insect, becoming bolder, coming to rest on her left nostril. Not yet released a handkerchief.
Precisely, the truck approach, the cloud of steam gasifier and the engine purring betray the resistance group. But now, after the release of Nevers, the department is safe, the chairman of CDL has no fear. So the guys are good through the maquis Marian St. Révérien
... That's precisely in this village, have since released a week before their final opponents ahead. The commando led by Roger Floret has old scores to settle.
Scrooge emits a low whistle. Following a click. Floret out very clearly the canon of Sten beyond the shadow zone. The truck appears in the High Street, two young guys in caps are installed on the plateau, they wave flags lights. Fernando is driving, Jacky on his right. But where is Marcelot?
The fly has taken off and swirls in the hair of Floret, enters one of his ears. Jinxed. This bug will miss him "...
- Ring! Ring! Rank!
This time the doorbell for entry. Another unfortunate that comes away from reading Thierry Leray.
- Mr Leray, nice to meet you! You must know me, Joel Lenoir, author polygraph.
- Ah, yes! The local glory Decize
... - Let's stay humble! I try to contribute to the reputation of the city. I, unfortunately, not the talent of the late Agnan Fumerol. A size that one. You knew, of course?
- Only his fame. But I'll read it. You see this box? There, behind the stove. One of his friends who sent me. A Mourlon, a former journalist who thinks launching a complete reprint, with my assistance. I do not know if ...
- You fly from summit to summit, my dear. The complete edition of Fumerol fire and, on the same day, a grand project, the contract of the century, I would say even more: THE BUSINESS OF THE CENTURY.
- Would you explain?
- You will see that I love puzzles. That is my specialty, "Lenoir, the king of mystery, the new Sherlock" as they called me in the Journal of the Centre. Good guy, the local correspondent, and especially a good publicist, involuntary. And then, the typographer wrote "Dear rag! Or automatic correction. In the provinces, especially in the Nièvre deep, bigger is better it works. It's like the Charolais. So I decided to write a thriller per month for fifteen or twenty years. I told you already touched the other day. A bargain. And I have cookies. Hold. The novelist
it opens the door knapsack slung. A pack of CDs escapes and spreads on the ground that covers an authentic Berber carpet Djebel Amour, woven with love by Hamida Ben Love, the grandmother of a former associate editor. The two men look simultaneously face another front, the discs simultaneously collect and apologize to each other.
- Fort interesting. But for now, I'm on another project. You've heard of this novelist missing?
- Odile Garnier? But his death is there in this ... no one, the CD number 17.
- You know what happened to him?
- Sure. It was I who did it disappear.
- Not possible. So it's a ploy. I thought so.
- No, she has indeed disappeared. In every sense of the word. Read the CD, you understand. So, back to our sheep, our mysteries instead. You will m'éditer. It is agreed?
- We'll see, I'll give my answer tomorrow. I must first ...
- Well, my dear, so long and good luck! The bearded novelist
eclipsed by blow wind, as it happened.
CHAPTER EIGHT: A CLIO IN THE LOCK
When Thierry Leray fate of the Press House, an unexpected gust of two whales back his umbrella. This morning the weather had announced a clear sky and sunny. The publisher greenhouse under his left arm The Journal of the Centre, the World, Charlie-Hebdo, fresh news to which he added an old copy of the Daily Telegraph that the bookseller had left under a pile of yellowing unsold. The bar
Decetia offered adequate shelter for serenity read the latest twists of the scandal that stirred the South for two days Nivernais The resignation of the board of Snider, football club which brings together for the worse rather than better for a pinch of players decizois few imphycois counterparts, received the mercenaries, supporters, sponsors some reckless and the finest local officials in search popularity. After the resignation comes controversy, denunciations. The one at the sports page, the evidence accumulates, the peremptory statements, denials embarrassed, venomous accusations, petitions, appeals for help, the defendants and exonerated ... not to mention the Mortgage burden on the rest of the championship. A dirty trick in football ... Nivernais
Thierry Leray traveled all this insipid prose an eye distracted, moistening her lips to sip a beer Hoegaarden white. When he is about to fold the duck to undertake much more exciting reading of Charlie-Hebdo, he sees the middle of the column usually a box of miscellaneous red:
"A Clio in the lock. Yesterday morning, the keeper of the Mount, near Châtillon-en-Bazois, was surprised to find its lock at the bottom of a motor vehicle, Renault Clio, red, registered 3762 SD 58. The gendarmes de Chatillon, once warned, could identify the owner of this car: it Odile Garnier, literature teacher who had disappeared recently from the College of The Guerche Fourchambault and his home. However, nobody was in the car. Everything suggests that the thieves - be it the teacher's kidnappers? - Wanted to get rid of the vehicle. Yes, but why abandon it in a place so recognizable? Result in future editions. "Thierry Leray
waves his newspaper towards the boss:
- So this is hard. Every time I drink a pot at home, I discovered a new disaster strikes my first client. Friday, she disappeared on Monday found his car ...
- You just stay home. You'll see that we shall find it, your grasshopper. And I still twelve beers you have not tasted. A bottle of San Pedro, imported directly from my post by Luis Zaragoza, it would suit? Pilsner Urquell or a?
- Do not fuck. It's so serious, this disappearance is that even Lenoir instantly. It has already spawned a book to retrieve the case.
- surprise me. C'gars point, he writes faster than his shadow. Beware, Thierry, you could be the next Maccabees, one of his thrillers. You know that I promised a starring role in his death in Décétia, one of his projects.
- I have the ears of its projects. One book per quarter for ten to twenty years, I understand. But what bothers me is how he got to know Odile, how could he know she was gone.
- No missing for everybody, you know the bird. It is certainly safe in daddy's mansion Lenoir and between them they mystify the press. Not difficult, as local correspondents are not eagles. And now qu'Agnan Fumerol passed away, the city needs a little animation. Well, I c'que I am saying is to talk. Because the novels, it is not foteballe. Especially with Disaster of SNID, that's a thriller, the true, the strong. Not true Stephane? Stefan
The issue driver forum volunteer support of ultra SNIDER, ruminates his distress over a glass of white currants. He just shrugs his shoulders and crachouiller in his drink.
Chaumine back in his street in the Attic Salt, publisher connects her computer and searched frantically in the stack of CDs made, or rather scattered, the day before by Joel Lenoir.
- He told me the CD # 27. No, 37. Oh, I forgot. Well, there is no alternative. I'll test them all.
Twenty-five minutes later, Thierry Leray briefly took knowledge of 48 novels for various titles: Solo to Saulaie The Private Private St., St. Leger discomfort at Leger Machinery infernal machine, Carnage rue Carnot, must be done to Faulquière, The Idiot of Verdial, Brawl on Gabarre, Rage Dam, etc. ... etc. ... But no trace of the missing. No more Odile Garnier in fish bites to April, Crecy is finished to Déchantons Champvert, or too just to Saint-Just ...
- He surely has invented a nickname. In this case, I'll have to type the whole package.
death in the soul, Thierry Leray prepares a sleepless night, he is toast five salmon sandwiches, opened a can of pineapple, he rises from the cellar a case of Guinness, his shoes off and slid the CD clodhoppers No. 1 in drive, with the prospect of reading the novel I lied Germancy.
- Malabar were two, real, cabinets, ice, not halves whippersnappers like you. And I soldered. To me alone. You understand. So j'te not do a drawing. Or you spit whatcha know, or you spit your incisors. Pasque me is the truth that m'raconte. No sales pitches.
Chief Warrant Officer Esteban mass
wrist ... It was when Leray reaches the second paragraph, something that tickles her big toe. A CD has slipped under the desk. No. 17.
NINTH CHAPTER: THE ART OF RECYCLING
Thierry Leray is very busy that night, so he misses the Ireland-France match. Much of the night is devoted to the study of CD No. 17, titled Our dearly departed.
summarize the book. Lenoir devised a mail exchange on the Internet. Odile Garnier discovered inadvertently an e-mail that her husband Serge was encrypted. Thinking foiled an extramarital liaison, she managed to decode the text and she realizes that Serge was suffering for six months rather vile blackmail.
Serge had practiced as inspector of police until 2003, happy time of his retirement. The author of the e-mails signed Willy and demanded from month to month, a fixed amount: 1500 euro "for his small expenses. Odile
succeeds, by caresses more than blame, that her husband confesses the whole affair. In 1984, he contributed to the arrest of a William Duley, accused of robbery in multiple bank branches in villages Nivernais. This Duley had also murdered the cashier of the Bank Hervet Corbigny. And he was sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment. In 1997, he was released, taking advantage of a reprieve for clean driving.
And on 1 August 2006, he began his blackmail.
The couple decided to stop payments and Odile blackmailer sent to a very severe warning severe. Three days later, Odile disappeared. A final message was sent to Serge next day via the Internet, which was attached a photo of the teacher and a kind of announcement of death.
Warrant Esteban - recurring hero of the novels of Joel Lenoir - succeeded, in a final chapter to end the crimes of William Duley. At the same time, he found a wine cellar in the rotten corpse of the unfortunate Odile.
- Not appetizing, this thriller. It is in the vein of Sherlock decizois productions. There's one thing that bothers me. Former cop threatened by his former prisoner, I have already read it somewhere. But where, but where and under what circumstances? The publisher
humming this phrase borrowed from an old tube Georgius, the idol of his great-uncle Ferdinand. He stifles his computer and dark in his library on the first floor. The novels occupy an entire wall.
- But damn, it's of course! Thierry Leray exclaims in eradicating an old crumpled number of Alfred Hitchcock Magazine, the Journal of Suspense, dated June 26, 1964.
Page 86 begins the new Our Dear Missing, written by Jeff Heller. Martha, wife of retired cop Joe Quinn, receives letters from a man named Willy Luddock, who announced his revenge gradually. In 1945, Luddock had murdered a shoemaker and Agent Joe Quinn had been arrested, it was the turn of Martha's husband died.
- This Ugly Lenoir. He just reversed the roles, the title feminized and modernized the mail from the letter to dear mom encrypted e-mails ... Oh, really, the literary world is full of plagiarists. I had been scalded in Paris with Jacques Attali, Verbatim. Yet it was more clever, more insidious. Lenoir has done little gloves. He who played prophet, telling me the "true disappearance of Odile Garnier! With this method, it does not hurt to "write faster than his shadow ...
Thierry Leray step two extracts face-to-face and send it to Joel Lenoir an e-mail that the novelist has certainly not expected:
"Here are the facts. Joe Quinn received for several months, threatening letters which he had been easy to identify the origin. Luddock Willy, the man Joe was arrested for the murder of Harry Donzetti shoemaker, had just been released on parole at the time the letter arrived. The newspapers had talked about this release, so it was no secret to anyone.
Luddock had a grudge against Joe, and one and one equals two ... "Our Dear Missing
Jeff Heller.
"Here are the facts. Serge Garnier received for several months, threatening letters which he had been easy to identify the origin. William Duley, man that Serge was arrested for the murder of the cashier of the Bank Hervet, had been freed when the letter arrived. The Journal of the Centre had talked about this release, so that Garnier had learned.
Duley had a grudge against Serge and two and two make four ... "Our dear departed
(J. Lenoir?)
CHAPTER TENTH:
NO, NO, NO, NO, Fumerol IS NOT DEAD!
Five hours and forty-three. Letters fluorescent clock radio score 5 pm 43. This is hardly an hour to get up. And it's dark outside. Siberian cold and dark night, after the false spring days.
Yet Thierry Leray is forced to rise. Under her window, a strange commotion disturbs the sleep of the few residents. In a quiet street as this is not common. The neighing, cracking, impact of deaf objects that stacks, and above all these voices hoarse screaming at regular intervals: "No, no, no, Fumerol is not dead, no, no, no, Fumerol is not dead, because It publishes more! "By putting on his pants
, publisher, nonplussed, pinches. Agnan Fumerol is indeed dead, murdered in strange circumstances. So what can it mean? A dream? No, he does not sleep.
- Ah, yes, the republication of works by the scholar. We had to bring me manuscripts. But not five pellets in the morning. What is that this noise?
a shutter ajar, he saw the middle of the street a huge horse snorts, foam blowing, balks, incense and wags his tail. Behind the animal, perched on a cart, a Father Christmas, wrapped in his blanket red, smoking a hookah. Two other Fathers Christmas unload boxes, cabinets, suitcases, they are planning no large gently on his sidewalk, not forgetting to run to the moon their refrain: "No, no, no, not dead Fumerol No, no, no, Fumerol is not dead, because he published again! "Timidly inquired
Thierry Leray :
. - Gentlemen, this is not the Carnival today. Could you tell me what ...
- Jean-Claude Growler, tourism and airline check in time, at your service, replies the man with the hookah. It has requested my humble cart to give you some brochures. The two fellows that you see playing the dockers are Miquet brothers, Raymond and Dede to his friends. Two brave guys who worship fire Fumerol. Especially not worry, the price of delivery has been set. By Mr. Mourlon, executor of the poor scholar. Ah, I see you perplexed. No, do not say otherwise, I understand why you're intrigued our clothing. It's simple: as it is chilly this morning, I picked the uniforms of the Christmas market and a small puff of tobacco Lebanese warm my lungs. With their fucking law against tobacco, they have converted to hash ...
A virulent shakes the neighing horse that shakes the cart and throws one of the two Miquet in the gutter.
- Oh! Golconda! Calm down! It was soon over ...
Indeed, the last folder is enthroned on a pyramid of boxes.
- Au revoir, gentlemen! And thank you again. I was not expecting such a stock ... gonna have I fall all this rubbish in the cellar because it's going to rain ... They could have stayed a minute, four could have been faster, grumble Editor by grabbing the first box.
Three hours later, Thierry Leray rest a little. Sipping a lambic, it tries to restore some order in his ideas. Forty CD to read for Lenoir, thousands of pages to be sorted for the dependents of Fumerol, Murder at the Priory to finish, the hymnal in rap, there is no shortage of work. For a start which promised to be industrious! And then, we must still investigate the Odile, and find, if not the Priory Murders will never be published. The record
Odile Garnier is precisely placed on the printer to the computer. Thierry Leray seized him, leafing through the motions. Some pages, he knows them by heart, others he has just read diagonally; the past, he simply counted, pushing them to study the encounter with the novelist. An encounter that seems compromised.
Under the last page of the novel, a small brown paper envelope was slipped. Maquis, preparation, document, is the title of a thin file slipped into the envelope. The author has written in his hand a number of information it has exploited in investigating the second murder:
Doutray Gaby, aged 39 in 1944, former mechanic at Jouhaut, mackerel or familiar with the brothel street Aublanc, already convicted in July 1937 for a brawl in the square Chaméane. Interned at the prison since Nevers February 15, 1944, stopped by a German patrol after curfew, possession of a 7.65. Have an acquaintance in a cell with people of the ORA Maybe militia infiltrators. Provisionally released in the bombing of Saincaize, escapes, Marian joined the Maquis. Participates in the liberation of Saint-Saulge and Nevers. Organizes the attack against the group Mauricet, St. Révérien, September 8. Then undertakes the 2d Battalion of the Nièvre, Alsace campaign. Wounded at Colmar, demobilized in July 1945 in Donaueschingen. Lost sight in Nevers. Found in May 1951 in Dun-sur-Auron. New identity: Gilbert Floret. This is the name I'll give it in the narrative.
Christian Le Texier. Pseudo maquis Scrooge. Accounts for the company Hotchkiss St. Denis. Dismissed in March 1943. Refuses to go to OTS, joins his cousin Gaston Larche Prémery. July 1944, they incorporate the bush Marian. Participate in the battle of Crux-la-Ville. Arrested shortly after between Guérigny and Nevers, "worked" by the Gestapo, they join a group of Christian Le Texier ORA and Gaby Doutray are the two shooters who shoot the FFI team Mauricet before the church of St. Révérien. Grounds Le Texier, "show that he had" (sic), by Gaston Larche, one participant arrested and tried. Le Texier disappears from mainland France late 1944. It would have remade his life in Algeria, Bougie. It is found in 1961-1962 in the ranks of the OAS, in a "commando Delta" dismantled in Oran. He died in July 1962 in the bloody days that followed the seizure of power by the army of the NLF No witnesses to interview. I'll just give him his nickname of Scrooge.
Bequin, sidekick small scale. Farmhand to Villapourçon. 21 years in 1944. It will engage the troops as Floret De Lattre and will be killed before Belfort two months later. Family contact (with fingers). The name Jacquin in the story.
Mauricet: Marcelot. See Reports of the leaders of underground Marian .. Well documented.
- Work seriously. It recognizes the teacher, and veteran of archives. I will reread the final chapters tonight. It is time to take a turn, it will change me ideas. Then a call to Mourlon to support him and ask him for details about editing Fumerol.
follow ...
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