I didn’t see it coming, the Mother Superior’s stick caught by the side of the head. It was more of a knobbery than a walking stick, like it had fallen of a tree specifically for the purpose of arming the most vicious nun in the world against troublemakers. This was a knobberry from God and it hurt. I was sent reeling but didn’t fall, unlike the movies people don’t always pass out from the first blow in a confrontation, it was the second blow that did that………
When the lights returned I was a little ‘mal a’la tete’ for the second time that day, though for an entirely different reason from the first. However the nuns had saved me a walk and delivered me straight to the police station. Judging by a few new aches and pains the journey hadn’t been a good one and either the nuns had ‘put the boot in’ while I was out or the police had dropped me a few times in transit.
The leering face of Inspector Lehrmann leered over me, I tried to leer back but it came out as a grimace.
‘Monsiuer, I do understand why you must meddle, really I do. It is your business after all, but you are meant to be on holiday, can you not dig yourself in deeper when there is no need?’
His manner was amicable, I’d seen David Suchet use this method on TV, it worked for David Suchet. It didn’t work for Inspector Lehrmann. He continued,
‘I know that if I tell you not to carry on with this you will do the opposite, so I will tell you something else. If you continue to look into this disappearance then you may end up with worse than the wrong end of a Mother Superior’s walking stick. This is not a threat, it is a warning, Bruges, like your London, has its dangers besides overindulging.’
Not really in any condition to argue I let him speak, it was a tough thing to be a tough guys when you’re feeling rough having been roughly handled. If this wasn’t enough I was in a bit of a huff at the Inspector’s insistence that I was one of those TV detectives that would have to get involved having been in at the start. But I hadn’t been in at the start, something told me there was more going on here and I had been beaten up, embarrassed – twice and now I was being ridiculed by a Belgian Rozzer. It was back to London for me, as soon as I could get there.
‘Trust me Lehrmann, I’ve had enough amusement from your little town, almost as much as I’ve given to you, so I’ll give you the statement you need and I’ll go back to London.’
I made to leave rising from the cell bunk that I’d been left on, my bones still aching. Lehrmann had made as if to say something and I noticed him falter.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
Lehrmann blanched,
‘You’re statement won’t be necessary, M. Morgan. We believe that we know what has occurred. M. Burune received a rather threatening message, his daughter has been kidnapped and clearly not by you. It would also appear lucky that you did not catch up with her on the next night. Her companion of the last night has been found, he has been found dead… In the canal… Face down and quite dead. That, sir, could have been you.’
Lehrmann clearly didn’t handle this sort of situation well, he looked queasy. Never one to miss a chance to belittle someone I stood briskly and said as equally brusquely as bluntly,
‘Yeah well, you should be used to that in your game, I just stick to divorce cases, nevermind mate, I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it.’
No, really, I was sick of this. I just wanted out of Bruges. Lehrmann seemed prepared to let me go. As I reached the door, he asked me a strange question, again in the manner of the Belgian detective,
‘Tell me Monsieur, on your night with Mme Burune, what did she tell you of the canalways?’
This took me by surprise, not sure of what to say, I recanted that her father was a boatman on the canals doing tours, that ‘Blighty’ was really not that far. Boats used to do the journey to and from quite a lot in the old days – trades routes and all that. Of course, I couldn’t remember if she had told me this or if I’d learnt it on the boat tour that I’d taken the next day. Nonetheless, both Burune’s knew their stuff when it came to the canals.
‘Is this relevant to anything?’
‘Non Monsiuer, I was just curious.’
The strange Inspector being ever more enigmatic, I told myself that this was for show – everything with a spoonful of Suchet.
I left the station with a handshake from the Inspector and a dire need for a proper cup of tea. The café opposite would do fine, this also gave me time to get my bearings as I had been unconscious when I’d arrived here and would have to work out how to get back to my hotel without asking a policeman.
Not initially noticing that someone had watched me leave the police station I had gainfully wandered over to the café. It was when one of the locals at the café was met by a friend, greeted, and then after a brief exchange the newcomer stayed at the table casting me a glance as he settled in. The local who’d been waiting then left without a word save for a gesture to the café owner suggesting that his friend would pay the bill. I’d thought nothing of that even, except that I would have to get friends like that next time I went out for a meal.
My thoughts were solely on leaving Bruges, so when I left the café I didn’t even notice the man from the café follow me out. I didn’t even notice his two friends on the corner who joined him and kept pace…. I wouldn’t notice until too late…..