Black Diamond - Martin Walker [44]
Again that sad smile, but no words.
“Why are you so frightened? Why do you come here with a bodyguard?”
“He’s a friend, not a bodyguard. Excuse me, but I must take my family home now,” he said as the door to the adjoining room opened and his wife appeared in black slacks and a sweater.
“These people are trying to destroy your livelihood. Why won’t you help me find out who they are?”
“I know nothing that could help you in your work.”
Bruno shrugged and pulled out one of his cards. Madame Duong came to stand beside her husband. He put his arm around her shoulders. “If you see Vinh, ask him to call me,” Bruno said, and gave him the card. “His friends are worried about him.”
Duong looked at Bruno for a long moment and then asked, “Are you the man who fought for them in St. Denis dressed like Father Christmas?”
Bruno nodded. “Vinh is a friend.”
“Yes, I remember, that feast he gave when he bought the new house. You were there, I think.”
“Along with Hercule Vendrot.”
“I’ll try to find a way to pass a message to Vinh, but if you couldn’t protect Hercule Vendrot …” He shrugged.
“You think the people who attacked you also murdered Hercule?”
Duong shrugged again. “How would I know?”
“What will you do, now that they’ve destroyed your stall, and Vinh’s?”
“We’ll find something. We have friends with restaurants, we can work there.”
“You know a restaurant was attacked with firebombs in Périgueux last night?”
Duong’s eyes went blank. He shook his head.
“A Chinese restaurant,” Bruno added. “Destroyed.”
“Difficult times,” Duong repeated as his son came out. He gathered his family and went out toward the waiting car. At the door, he turned. “Vinh will get your message. Thank you for your help.”
They climbed into the back of the car. With a last raking look around the parking lot, the bodyguard followed them, and the car took the Bergerac road. That was interesting. Bruno had checked the address on Madame Duong’s carte vitale, the French health insurance card. Their home was in Vergt, which lay in the opposite direction.
Perhaps I should have been tougher, Bruno told himself. He could have insisted on taking them to the gendarmerie to make formal statements. Another kind of policeman, like Capitaine Duroc, would have threatened them with arrest for obstruction. But the very fact that a Duroc might have tried such a trick was reason enough for Bruno to avoid it. He needed these people’s cooperation and their trust, not their hostility.
He walked into the empty waiting room and knocked on the door that led to Dr. Gelletreau’s consulting room. He could hear a string quartet on the radio and then the sound of a chair being pushed back and heavy footsteps coming to the door.
“Ah, Bruno,” said the plump doctor with white hair and a heavy mustache. “What’s wrong with you? You look healthy enough to me.”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to ask about Madame Duong, the woman you just treated.”
“She’s fine, just some bruises and very sore skin after we cleaned the paint off her. Never seen anything quite like it.”
“Did she say anything about the attack?”
“Not a word, except to mutter about their livelihood being destroyed and how were they going to live. She was in quite a state so I gave her some tea and that calmed her down a bit.”
“Did you tell her to come back and see you again?”
Gelletreau shook his head. “She said she had her own doctor in Périgueux, and she’d go to see him. She gave me his name, another Vietnamese, a heart specialist at the hospital. I was going to give him a call later this evening, make sure he follows up. Her boy seemed like a responsible young man and said he’d make sure she went to see him.”
“Did the boy say anything else?”
“Nothing that comes to mind. He did say something about the Chinese, as though he knew they were the ones who attacked them. Do you think it’s tied in with the supermarket fire?”
“Could be. How did you hear about that?”
“The prefect’s office called. They’re making an inventory of burn units and doctors who know how to treat burn victims. I handled a lot of burns