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back in the dark he slept in a meadow. Got back here at seven this morning and called us straight away. So watch it, dearie.”
    “Watch what?” Camille said, looking up.
    “You mustn’t take it out on Watchee when he’s grieving. You mustn’t say ‘And what about Watchee? What about Watchee ? What the fuck was he doing?’ or any other rubbish like that. You’re not from hereabouts, so you don’t say anything, anything at all, without thinking it through very carefully first. For Watchee Suzanne was like a saint. So watch what you say. Watch it.”
    Camille was impressed by the medium
gendarme
. She nodded her assent and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. The policeman proffered a paper handkerchief.
    “Where is he?”
    “At the back of the pen. Keeping watch.”
    “And Soliman?”
    The
gendarme
shook his head in resignation.
    “He’s locked himself in the toilet. In the toilet. He says he’ll die there. They’re sending us someone from psychology. Can be useful, in special cases.”
    “Has he got a gun with him?”
    “No, no weapon on him.”
    “I mended the leak, last Wednesday,” Camille said glumly.
    “Yes. The leak. Do you know how Suzanne came to adopt Soliman Melchior when he was a baby?”
    “Yes. I’ve been told all about it.”
    The
gendarme
nodded knowingly.
    “The baby wouldn’t have anyone but Suzanne. He laid his wee head right there and stopped bawling. That’s what they say. I wasn’t there. I’m not from these parts.
Gendarme
s don’t have the right to be from the whereabouts, so as not to get too involved.”
    “I know,” Camille said.
    “But you do get involved, all the same. Take Suzanne, for instance. Nobody –”
    The
gendarme
stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Johnstone coming, in sombre mood, his head sunk in his shoulders.
    “Sure you didn’t touch anything?” he asked.
    “Your colleague never took his eyes off me.”
    “Well?”
    “Could be the same animal. Can’t be certain.”
    “The big wolf?” the
gendarme
queried defensively, screwing up his eyes.
    Johnstone pursed his lips. He raised his hand and spread out his thumb and ring finger.
    “Big, yes. At least that much between his carnassial and his canine. Can’t see easily in there. One gash in the shoulder, one in the throat. Couldn’t have had time to pull the trigger.”
    Two vehicles were bumping their way up the drive.
    “Here come the technicians,” said the
gendarme
. “With the medic behind them.”
    “Come on,” Johnstone said, putting a hand on Camille’s shoulder and shaking her gently. “Let’s not stay around.”
    “I’d like to talk to Soliman,” Camille said. “He’s shut himself up in the toilet.”
    “When people have shut themselves in the john there’s no way you’ll get anything out of them.”
    “I’m going to have a try even so. He’s all on his own now.”
    “I’ll wait for you by the bike.”
    Camille went into the silent and ill-lit house, climbed the stairs and stood in front of the closed door.
    “Sol,” she said, knocking on the panel.
    “You fuckwits can all go to hell!” the young man screamed at her.
    Camille nodded. Soliman would keep the tradition alive.
    “Sol, I’m not trying to get you out.”
    “Fuck off!”
    “I’m upset, too, you know.”
    “You don’t know what upset means! You know nothing, got that? You’ve not even got the right to be here. You weren’t her daughter, OK? So get out! Bloody hell, just fuck off, will you!”
    “Of course I don’t know what upset means. I was just a friend of Suzanne’s, that’s all.”
    “So there! You see?” Soliman roared.
    “I used to mend her plumbing and in return she supplied me with veg and liquor. And anyway I’m not bothered whether you stay in there or not. We’ll slide slices of ham under the door to keep you going.”
    “Oh, terrific!” the young man shouted.
    “So this is the position, Sol. You’re going to stay in the toilet. Watchee won’t leave the pen, and