Spilt Wine

42. Horrors

My mouth had been closed when Philippe taped it, and my mumble was nearly unintelligible to my own ears, but Catherine seemed to understand what I was saying. Maybe she's sensing my meaning through the vowel patterns. I wasn't able to force out anything even remotely approximating a consonant.

I was able to understand her more easily; her mouth had been taped open, so she could use a few consonants, and she said, "Ayyy hink aahmm affortheeng."

As sobs shook her body, I sat watching, unable to help, unable to comfort her but with my mumbles. I hummed soothing thoughts hoping to ease her with the sound of my voice.

Wanting to get closer to her, I tried hopping on my chair, moving it a bit. Encouraged, I added direction and more force, making it halfway across the room toward her when a leg collapsed, the chair toppled and slammed me to the floor. I writhed and squirmed for a long time, trying to free my bindings without success.

Then, she bellowed a loud series of moans, and I looked up to see a flood of liquid as her water broke. Her sobs turned to loud, halting sounds, and tears streamed down her face as the contractions increased in frequency and intensity.

I stared up at her, unable to do anything but mumble soothing hums as I watched her agony increase. Good God! Hasn't she been through enough already? I looked down at the tapes around my wrists to see what progress I had made in my struggle to get free. Done nothing but bloody them from torn skin.

My bladder let go as I watched the baby slowly emerge and slide off the chair to the floor then lie shaking at Catherine's feet. It made a few cries as it gradually stilled.

She pulled her hips back and leaned forward, watching helplessly, unable to do anything but mumble and sob, and I cried with her. After a long while, she closed her eyes and slumped forward against her bindings.

I watched, wishing I could do something. Seeing her breathing gradually slow and her body relax, I felt my own tensions begin easing.

We were both awakened by a crash outside the room. More crashes followed, accompanied by the sound of approaching heavy boots and loud, assertive voices. With another sharp crash, I watched the frame splinter as our door was smashed open. The muzzle of a gun appeared, followed instantly by a helmeted head, its face behind a plexi visor.

I relaxed as a body-armoured gendarme followed his head into the room, barking orders over his shoulder.

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Three hours later, I sat quietly on Catherine's bed, holding her hand and stroking it, when a nurse came in and asked if she felt strong enough to see Lieutenant Grattien.

Grattien sat in silence with us for a long while as we looked at each other blankly. Then, Catherine said, "The baby's gone. They said there's no apparent other damage, besides the heavy bruises."

We sat quietly again, looking at each other.

Gratien finally broke the silence. "Two of our brigade are dead, one seriously wounded, still in the operating room. This is a very sad day for all of us." We were again quiet for a long while.

Grattien again cut the silence. "Our brigade in Saint-Jean-de-Losne was contacted to investigate a collision on the canal near Aiserey. A passing péniche had pulled your barge off the bank as it approached and there was no way to keep from hitting it. By the time the skipper was able to stop, he was nearly at the Aiserey lock, so he continued in to moor and report the incident. The lock keeper from the next lock, Pontangey I think it is, pedalled down to your barge to check for injuries and found it unlocked and abandoned."

"Great!" I blew a deep breath. "I had hoped that would happen. I had seen a péniche coming down in the next lock, and I did only one turn on the cleat." Catherine squeezed my hand.

"One of the gendarmes sent to investigate had been at the barge on that Sunday when you ..." Grattien looked at Catherine and paused.

"When we found Murielle," she completed for him. "You don't need to tiptoe around; I can handle anything – after all this."

"He contacted our office. I had arrived only ten minutes before after dropping you off. I drove back to the canal and went directly to l'éclusier. He didn't see you leave, you were gone when he stepped out to prepare the lock for a péniche coming down from Longecourt, and was back inside when he heard the collision.

"L'éclusier at the next lock had seen your barge stop and moor to the bourne. He told me it was an unusual place to stop to wait for a downbound barge. But he dismissed it, saying things are getting stranger with the new boat rental companies and all the inexperienced boaters." Grattien shook his head.

"He had seen a dark yellow or dirty gold car by the barge, an old Peugeot, he thought, but it was gone when the collision happened."

"So, how did you trace us to the tank farm up in the Hautes Côtes?" Catherine asked.

"We didn't."

She tilted her head. "So, how did you find us, then?"

"Our investigations on the group in Marseille and through Grotkopf's files led us to a new warehouse up there. Three of our gendarmes were sent to investigate. Two were shot dead immediately. The third was seriously wounded while calling the brigade for backup. We added the events together."

"How is he?" I asked.

"I spoke with the doctors before I came here. Abdominal wounds, a lot of blood loss, but nothing critical they hope. They think she should fully recover. It was the backup squad, sent in response to her call, that found you."

"And Philippe?"

"No trace."

Again a long silence.

"Not too safe out there for us at the moment," Catherine said in a low voice.

"We have authorisation to add more guards, and we're looking at moving you to a safer location."

After another pause, Grattien continued, "We have a psychiatrist and a psychologist on their way to interview you. We need a better picture of Philippe's mental profile and his possible motivations. He has just killed your baby and two gendarmes. Most likely he killed his wife, his brother-in-law and his father. Probably your husband and your maid, possibly l'éclusier and his wife at Aiserey –"

"And his wife?"

"Yes, both are missing. And from what you told the gendarmes on your way here, he was about to kill you. He is obviously not stable – I didn't think you would mind their visit."

"I think we can both ..." Catherine paused to look for my agreement and then continued, "We can both add a lot to this."

"This is so ironic." I pointed to the name on the information sheet, which was sitting on the overbed table. "Centre hospitalier Philippe-le-Bon. Here we are in Philippe-the-Good Hospital, looking for ways to stop a maniacal Philippe-the-Evil."