Bruno, Chief Of Police

That was clever, Bruno thought. The local businessmen had perked up at the

prospect of financial aid, and then the joke about the generals had got them all

smiling. Every time he watched the Mayor in action, he felt he learned

something.

‘Thank you for coming to share your concerns, my friends,’ the Mayor continued,

rising from his seat at the head of the table. ‘The council will do what we can

to help. And while we’re here, I am sure you’ll want to join me in expressing

thanks to our new local hero, our own Chef de Police, for his outstanding

service yesterday. That statement he made about our town being invaded and

defending ourselves was admirable. The Minister of the Interior was particularly

warm in his praise – probably because you took the potentially damaging

attention away from him.’

Bruno almost blushed as they all grunted approval and some of them reached

across to shake his hand. He still expected the Mayor to dress him down in

private for that too-too clever idea about taking over Montsouris’s protest

march. But for the moment, his little speech to the TV cameras and the press

coverage had become his protection.

‘I do have one proposal to make,’ Bruno said. ‘I think it was Napoleon who said

that when you’re under pressure, it’s always better to attack than to sit back

and wait for the worst. I heard of something they’ve started doing in the

tourist centres of Brittany that might help us here. They organise Marchés

Nocturnes – evening markets. It’s quite simple. We invite some of the regular

stall holders to sell their produce in the evening, but products that can be

eaten on the spot – pâté, cheese, olives, bread and salads, fruit and wine. We

set up some tables and benches, provide some simple entertainment like the local

jazz club, and we ask the town restaurants and traiteurs to provide simple hot

foods like pommes frites and saucisses and pizza. There isn’t a lot to do in the

evenings round here and many people – particularly in the camp sites – can’t

afford to eat out at restaurants every night. So this would be a cheap evening

out in the middle of town, as well as a new source of income for local

businesses. And of course the town would charge a small fee to the stallholders.

It might help bring people back to St Denis despite this latest publicity.’

‘I like it,’ said Dougal. ‘It’s just the kind of thing tourists love, and people

will stay on and buy drinks at the bars after they eat. I could advertise it in

all the houses we let.’

‘It may be alright for you, but I make my living by keeping the customers inside

my camp site, spending their money at my bar and in my café,’ grumbled Duhamel.

But Philippe from the hotel was enthusiastic, and they all felt better at the

thought of taking some action to restore the town’s fortunes. The delegation

took their leave in a far better mood than when they had arrived.

‘That could have gone a lot more disagreeably, so thank you for that very useful

idea,’ said the Mayor when he and Bruno were left alone. ‘Are you sure you

should be at work? You looked pretty bad on TV last night with that blood

running down your face. You took some nasty knocks.’

‘You should see the other guys,’ said Bruno lightly, relieved that he seemed to

have got away without a reprimand. ‘And besides, I used to get worse on the

rugby field every week.’

‘Yes,’ the Mayor said drily. ‘Like all the rest of France, I watched you say

that on TV. Very heroic, Bruno, but I also saw you getting beaten up and it

looked very nasty from where I was watching. Half the women of St Denis have

been telling me that you saved them from the mob. Seriously, I thought you were

in for it when that gang attacked you by the steps.’

‘So you saw our delightful Inspector Perrault come to my rescue? Not to mention

that well-aimed kick from Pamela Nelson.’

‘We all did. The Minister of the Interior was most impressed with their martial

skills. I suspect the Inspector will find herself promoted back to a staff job

in his Paris office quite soon with that karate black belt of hers, or whatever

it is she has. An elegant and very dangerous woman – they love that sort of

thing in Paris. That’s why I think we’ll have some help from the Ministry if we

need it with the banks.’

The Mayor smiled at Bruno with the affectionate but slightly superior look of a

schoolmaster realising how much his favourite pupil had yet to learn. ‘I noticed

your dubious look when I told our businessmen that we might be able to apply

some pressure on the banks. Always remember, Bruno, that the people who really

apply political pressure are seldom the politicians themselves. They prefer to

let their staff do it for them and I think I’ll make you a bet that the shapely

Inspector Perrault will soon be in a position to help us if needed.’

‘I’m not sure that she’d take such a job if it were offered. She’s an

independent sort of woman.’

‘Spoken with feeling. Almost as if your advances had been spurned.’

‘No advances have been made, Sir,’ Bruno replied coolly.

‘More fool you, Bruno. Now, I must answer all the phone calls I asked Mireille

to hold during the meeting. Meanwhile, you’d better check on the progress of

those thugs that were arrested. I assume that’s being handled by the Police

Nationale in Périgueux?’

‘It should be, but our local chaps here were the arresting officers so I’ll

check with them first.’

Bruno had barely got back to his own office and opened his mail when the Mayor

bustled in, muttering, ‘That fool woman … one of the phone calls that Mireille

sat on was from the Café des Sports. I told her to interrupt me for anything

urgent. Your Capitaine Duroc came along this morning and arrested Karim for

assault. Can you find out what’s going on?’

‘Assault? It was self-defence.’ But then he had a mental image of Karim,

probably the biggest man in the entire square, picking up the litter bin and

hurling it at the knot of Front National men with their flags. He winced. It had

seemed a good idea at the time, but Bruno knew that he himself would have

trouble even lifting the thing, let alone lifting it over his head and throwing

it. And if that crucial moment of the brawl had been caught by the TV cameras,

Karim could be in trouble.

‘Do you remember seeing Karim throw the litter bin?’ he asked the Mayor.

‘Yes, it was the act that turned the tide; that and your Inspector Perrault. It

was a considerable feat of strength. One of the generals said it was

magnificent. Oh dear, I think I understand. That could be seen as assault with a

weapon. Well, I think the Minister and the generals and I could stand as

witnesses that Karim did the right thing.’

‘Yes, but there’s another witness – the TV cameras. And those Front National

types have access to clever lawyers and they would relish filing a complaint

against an Arab, which is how they see Karim. Even if the police decide not to

file charges, the victims could do so.’

‘Putain!’ exploded the Mayor, and slammed a fist into the palm of his other

hand. He never normally swore and Bruno could not remember the last time he’d