Read The Honest Folk of Guadeloupe for Free Online Page A

and I talked to the man.”
    “You’re not interested in young, single women?”
    “Not when they’re already accompanied.” The cold, deep-set eyes stared at her.
    “You’re married, Monsieur Desterres?”
    “How does that concern you?”
    “Kindly answer my question. Are you married?”
    “I do not live alone.”
    “What did you talk to the girl and Richard about?”
    “They wanted something to drink, and I served them Coca-Cola. Later I sat down and we made small talk.”
    “Coca-Cola?”
    “I suggested a punch or a planter—but the girl was off alcohol andthe man went along with her to be polite. We chatted about what to visit, what to see in Guadeloupe. The place used to be very beautiful but it’s been raped, pillaged, transformed into a concrete suburb.”
    “The girl was interested?”
    For the first time since entering her small office, Desterres smiled with genuine amusement. “I told her about the tropical rain forest, the coffee plantation, the mongooses and raccoons. About Marie-Galante and La Désirade. I gave her the addresses of a few good restaurants.”
    “Monsieur Desterres, did you get the impression Evelyne Vaton knew anybody here in Guadeloupe?”
    “Why d’you ask?”
    “Women are more often the victims of violence from people they know, close family and friends, than from strangers. Evelyne Vaton may’ve been murdered by somebody who knew her—somebody who was expecting her.”
    “She knew Richard.” Desterres added, “They left together.”
    “What was she carrying?”
    A moment’s pause. “A beach bag. And before leaving, she put shorts on. Shorts and a T-shirt.”
    “Did Evelyne say if she knew anyone else in the
département
?”
    “She was staying with the parents of a friend of hers.”
    Anne Marie nodded.
    “I invited them to stay for lunch. The French girl was pretty and Richard seemed good company, even if he was a bit too introverted for my taste. Evelyne Vaton chatted readily, so I invited them to taste some fresh conch, but the girl couldn’t stay.” He rubbed his chin. “She was meeting people for lunch.”
    “What people?”
    “No idea.” Desterres shrugged the epaulettes of his safari shirt. He sat forward in the chair and picked up the attaché case. He slowly opened it and, like a reluctant magician producing a rabbit from a top hat, Desterres withdrew a piece of pink material. “She left her bikini top on Tarare beach.”

13
Lafitte
    Lafitte’s smile was apologetic. “I’m sorry the
gendarmerie
wasn’t informed.”
    The
gendarme
standing at the window said, “We’re supposed to be collaborating.” He spoke without looking at Lafitte.
    “Precisely,” Anne Marie commented, turning from one man to the other. “Supposed to be collaborating and whether you like it or not, gentlemen, we shall be collaborating. Each of us works for a different ministry and we may not always have the same goals, but we all want the culprit brought to justice as soon as possible. There’s a lot of pressure on us.” She leaned forward in her chair. “An hour ago Desterres came here to see me of his own accord, Capitaine Parise.” Anne Marie put her hands on the table and speaking slowly, faced Lafitte. “This enquiry’s going to be done by the book. No arrests simply because that’s what the public wants. When we arrest the culprit, it’ll be because you and I have built up a watertight case.” She paused. “I hope that’s clear.”
    The yellow skin of Lafitte’s face seemed to tinge with a blush. He glanced at the
gendarme
before turning to Anne Marie. He coughed. “
Madame le juge
, Desterres has a record.”
    “What record?” Anne Marie asked sharply.
    “Attempted rape in 1983,
madame le juge
. Let off with a warning. Extenuating circumstances, no doubt.”
    “Attempted rape?”
    “Two years later he was accused of having sex with a girl under the age of consent.”
    The lace curtain danced with the wind; somewhere along the docks a car