Stonekiller by J. Robert Janes Page A

These and other artefacts were in the trunk he left in the safekeeping of my grandfather. The artefacts were all carefully labelled as to the levels from which they had come, locations my father was then able to confirm.’
    A trunk … all Kohler could think of was the penchant of Paris trunk murderers to send their victims to Lyon with no traceable return address. ‘And this trunk …’ he began only to hear her take a deep breath and give a worried sigh.
    â€˜The trunk had rested in the cellars of my grandfather’s house in Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne for all those years, Inspector. It was covered with mildew when my mother showed it to my father in the early spring of 1912.’
    The mother would have just turned sixteen.
    â€˜Father had the trunk shipped to Paris, to the house of his parents. He … he forbade them and my mother to say anything of it because of the amulet and the figurines. Nothing so old had ever been found.’
    â€˜The figurines?’ asked Louis, digging out his pipe and tobacco pouch only to realize he was on harsh rations.
    â€˜Beautiful carvings in the soft yellow stone of these parts. Very primitive. An Adam and Eve, the abbe called them. Exquisitely executed but simplistically so, without details of the faces, the hands or feet.’
    â€˜A bulge for the testicles and penis,’ snorted Jouvet, causing Kohler to turn on him and breathe, ‘Speak only when spoken to.’
    It was Louis who quietly said, ‘That cave was not a religious site, madame — at least I do not think it was from the little we have seen. It was an abri , a shelter that was used for daily living and whose layers of refuse had been built up over the millennia.’
    This time she turned to face him. ‘An abri , yes, and not a grotte , not a religious site which would seldom contain the refuse layers, the gisement at its entrance.’
    She released the children and urged them to have a wash. ‘We will eat in a moment,’ she said. ‘Jean-Guy, help your sister to set the table, please? The special dishes, yes? We … we must make it just as grand-mère would have wished. Please set a place for her, too, so as to remind us.’
    Louis gave that nod his partner had come to know so well, but as the boy passed him, Kohler said, ‘Bring me your father’s rucksack. I want to have a look in it.’
    Incensed, Jouvet darted into the kitchen and came out with the thing. ‘Then look, idiot! Look! It is not mine. It is hers. ’
    They took it with them. They promised to return it but a little of her died then, for they would begin to question things now. Ah yes. They would want to know more.
    When André hit her, she fell back against the stove but did not cry out or try to defend herself.
    Blood ran from her battered lips. The children raced upstairs to the attic. Some dishes fell.
    He stood over her with his stick. He let her have one on the shoulder for good measure. ‘Kill me then,’ she spat. ‘Kill me too.’
    â€˜Not before you have suffered.’
    From the school to the Porte del Bos was not far, yet they could not make the journey unnoticed. Children whispered to their elders. Some tossed their heads. One boy was brazen enough to point.
    A cartful of manure trundled by, its axle complaining in the noonday heat. Flies rose to worry the tail of the donkey. The driver did not even acknowledge the presence of the two visitors. They had flic written all over them, Paris too. A priest hurried past.
    Kohler grinned. ‘I like it, Louis. We’re already famous.’
    â€˜Let us find some shade.’
    â€˜It’s good to be free of those two for a little. Marital strife gets to me.’
    Louis hurried on ahead, tossing a hand. ‘Oh for sure, you ought to know, eh? Your wife Gerda’s going to dump you. You watch, my fine Bavarian papa, she’ll turn to someone else. When was it you last went