Spilt Wine

29. Identification

"We need to call the Gendarmerie. There's a phone at the lock. Let's go!"

Catherine and I moved silently, both deep in thought, as we walked the hundred or so metres to the lock keeper, who was looking at us with concern.

"Problèmes avec l'hélice?... Problems with the propeller," he asked as we neared.

"Nous avons attrapé des chiffons... We've caught some rags in it. We need to call the Gendarmerie."

"They can't help with that, you need a –"

"There's a body wrapped in them; a man's, maybe a woman's."

The first Gendarme car arrived quickly from Saint-Jean-de-Losne, and two more soon followed. Within half an hour, Grattien and LeBlanc arrived from Gevrey, and with them came three more cars. Médecin légiste and Gendarme photographers recorded the slow extraction of the corpse from its tangles. I was surprised to see so many people out so quickly on a Sunday. Grattien and his adjutant weren't in uniform, but all the others were.

"We were just about to leave for lunch at my mother's when the call came, so my mother and wife will eat without me again this week." Grattien shrugged and sighed. "My adjudant was at home when I phoned, so I picked him up on the way here."

It had been difficult to release the bundle from its winds around the prop. What eventually emerged was a large, tattered piece of burlap with a long piece of rope, one end still around the ankles of the mangled, bloated body.

Soon after the corpse had been transported toward the morgue for autopsy, the team of divers began searching along the canal bottom for additional evidence. Catherine and I accepted Grattien's offer of a ride back to the château, so we locked up Vrouwe Catharina and left.

We rode in silence, and I reflected. My training in the Air Force and Navy included sessions on the psychology of handling death in battle. I've been closely involved in the aftermath of crashes while working with Search and Rescue, and I've convened boards of inquiry into the results of training exercises which had disastrously turned too realistic. Twice, I've experienced the death of a climbing companion in the mountains. This is more difficult. Much more.

"We will let them identify the remains," Grattien finally broke the silence as he turned onto the road across the plain toward Morey-Saint-Denis. "It made no sense to start there on the canal bank; the lab is a better place."

"It was a small bundle – not a big person," Catherine said a bit haltingly.

"I know what you're thinking. A lot smaller than Louis." I pressed her hand gently.

"But it could be Murielle."

"That's possible, but it could be so many others, too." I tried to ease her concern. "I'm sure there are other missing people in the area it might be."

"Not so, it is not violent like America here," Adjudant LeBlanc said from the front seat. "There are only two missing here."

I watched Grattien clench his jaw, and I winced as I thought: Appears the young adjudant missed a few of his psychology classes at the academy, or he forgot their messages. But I remained quiet, certain that Grattien would counsel him later. Instead, I continued to hold and pulse Catherine's hand.

Monday 14 April 1986

"Oui, allo!" Catherine answered the phone, automatically pushing the speaker button to include me as she did.

"It's Grattien here, The médecin légiste has now confirmed it is Murielle Dupuis – I am so sorry to bring you this news."

"We already knew that, didn't we?" Catherine replied.

"Yes, we knew ... The report shows her death was very quick, she would not have suffered. She was dead long before she was put in the canal."

"That's a mercy." Catherine sighed.

"Did the divers find anything else?" I asked.

"Several interesting things, I was going to tell you right now. They found three rusty pieces of scrap iron. The lab is analysing the rust traces on the rope and on the cloth. It appears the person who made the bundle had no experience tying knots. They also found two more pieces of rope farther down the canal. There is a possibility they are not related. Those and other things picked up along the bank are also at the lab."

"Have you informed Murielle's family?"

"No, I wanted to see if you might wish to let them know."

"Thank you, that's very kind," Catherine said. "When will her remains be released for services?"

"They are finished gathering all the evidence they need. It can be arranged easily in your own time, in her family's time."

I wrote down the morgue's phone number as Grattien gave it, and after confirming the undercover guards would remain at the château, we clicked off.

Catherine phoned Murielle's mother and broke the news. She was trembling as she hung up, her cheeks streaked with tears. She stood quietly staring at the phone and then began to convulse. Deep sobs – body-shaking sobs. She turned and blubbered, "Hold me, David. Rub my head."