Read Freeze Frame for Free Online Page B

Adjudant Guéguen. The publicity these cases attracts helps us raise funds for the Forensic Science Department at my university. So it’s only the French
police scientifique
that’ll be enhanced.”
    Guéguen inclined his head and smiled in acquiescence. “True, but nonetheless, I have to tell you that should you feel inclined to bend the law in any way during the course of your investigation, you can expect no quarter from me or any of my officers. And you will have no access to official records, or evidence.”
    Enzo nodded. “I take it you don’t keep any of that kind of stuff here in any case.”
    “No. All documentation and evidence is held at Vannes, a few kilometers along the coast from Lorient.”
    “Which is where the trial was held, right?”
    “Right.”
    A young gendarme coughed and entered, a polystyrene cup of coffee in each hand. He placed them on the desk, along with sachets of sugar and plastic stirrers, and left. Enzo stirred in his sugar and cradled the cup in his hands to warm them, sipping on the strong, hot, black liquid. “Thank you,” he said. “I needed this.” He looked up and saw what looked like amusement in the younger man’s eyes. Guéguen, he reckoned could only be in his early forties. Dark hair cut short, with some brushed steel showing now around the temples. He had dark eyebrows, and friendly liquid brown eyes. A good-looking man who seemed not at all to fit the stereotype of the humourless, intimidating gendarme. “And thank you, too, for warning me off so gently.”
    The adjudant grinned. “All part of the service, Monsieur Macleod.” He lifted the phone. “I’ll give Coconut’s a call and ask them to drop your car off here. Save you walking back down the hill in the rain.”
    When he finished the call Enzo said, “Thank you. Again.” He glanced back along the hall. “How many of you are there here?”
    “Six. Myself, a chef, two gendarmes, and two trainees. During the summer months when the population of the island literally explodes, the brigade sends us another six.”
    “And I guess any serious crimes, like murder, would be handled by investigators from the mainland?”
    Guéguen laughed heartily. “Monsieur Macleod, if you want to know how the investigation into Killian’s murder was conducted, you only have to ask.”
    “I thought you’d been instructed not to cooperate.”
    “Not to give you access to official police records or evidence,” Guéguen corrected him. “No one said we couldn’t discuss things that were a matter of public record.” And there was a hint of wickedness in the smile that creased his eyes.
    “So what happened?”
    “Well, in theory, we were supposed to secure the crime scene until senior investigators arrived from Lorient. In fact, we made a complete mess of it. No one had the least idea what securing a crime scene entailed, so I’m afraid we trampled all over it, touched things we shouldn’t, and failed to protect things we should.”
    “You were here then?” Enzo was incredulous. “Twenty years ago?”
    Guéguen grinned. “I was one of the trainees at that time. I have spent most of my career since serving with other brigades in various parts of Brittany. I returned just last year for the first time in nearly seventeen.”
    “As the boss.”
    “Yes. As the boss.” Guéguen’s eyes crinkled again in amusement. “A lot older and much wiser. If there were any serious crime committed on the island today, Monsieur Macleod, every one of my officers is trained in the treatment of a crime scene. There is a rota of island doctors who would be called out to determine whether or not a death was suspicious, although of course any autopsy would be carried out by the pathologist at the hospital in Lorient. We’ve had a few suicides and serious accidents to practise on.”
    “So it was a local doctor who determined that Killian’s death was suspicious?”
    This time Guéguen roared with laughter. “I would hardly describe