Jacques Forest arrived back from the cemetery with Annie Arsenault by his side. She was planning a fishing outing, by the sounds of it.
‘Friday morning would be good for me. The tide should be right for us to make it to L’Anse-aux-Amérindiens,’ she said.
‘Good idea. Do you mind if I invite Sébastien? He’s Mr Moralès’s son.’
Angel Roberts’ friend said hello to Joaquin.
‘Not at all. You’d be welcome to join us too, detective.’
Joaquin gave the two Gaspesians a questioning look.
Annie smiled at him softly. ‘I have a boat. It’s not very big, but it’s comfortable enough for four or five passengers. Jacques and I are going sea fishing on Friday. In the morning, because of the tide. You and your son would be welcome to join us. It might give you a bit of a break.’
‘With pleasure; I love fishing.’
She gave them a sad, pained smile that struggled to light up her eyes, then went to join her husband and sons.
Marlène Forest finally came over to him. She had been chatting with Lefebvre and Lord, who had now stopped to have a word with the Langevin brothers. Moralès awkwardly offered her his condolences. He didn’t like these stilted formalities. He felt like a vulture circling over other people’s dramas.
‘Was it you who sent the forensics team the day the boat was found?’ he asked.
‘Yes. And I was the one who asked for you to be assigned to this investigation.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me Angel was your niece?’
She shrugged and looked away. Her brother stood motionless by her side. ‘I can’t be seen to intervene in the investigation; I might be accused of a conflict of interest,’ she explained. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish reading your file tonight, at my brother’s place.’
That was why Jacques Forest had been so keen to scoop up the case file: so his sister could read it.
‘You can have it back tomorrow morning,’ she continued. ‘For once, I have to admit I’m not displeased to see you make a blunder.’
Moralès nodded uncomfortably. At the moment, the file was a mess. There were too many indecisive leads, no reliable witnesses, no motive for murder and the suggestion that the murderer managed to perform the impossible feat of returning to dry land without a boat.
‘By all appearances, it looks like your niece might have taken her own life, Marlène.’
She took a deep breath. ‘When a woman commits suicide, no one beats up the detective who’s investigating.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Listen, Moralès. I’m not supposed to stick my oar in, but I’m going to tell you something, strictly as the victim’s aunt.’
He didn’t move a muscle, just waited to hear what she was about to reveal.
She glanced at her brother. ‘My sister, our sister, married Roberts, and we never understood why. My sister, my brother and I inherited a fair bit of money from our father, so we always thought Leeroy married Irène for the money. Right after the wedding, he went and bought himself a fancy boat in New Brunswick. He started showing off, saying French-Canadian fishermen had always played the poor card, but he was going to strike it rich with his fishing. He’s worked hard, that’s true, and my sister never wanted for anything, but that hasn’t stopped him being a macho penny-pincher all his life.’
Moralès wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
‘When their kids grew up, they wanted their own boats. Leeroy stumped up the cash for his youngest to buy a scallop trawler, but don’t get me wrong, he made it very clear that it was a loan and charged him every penny of interest he could. When Jimmy sold his boat, I think he realised his dad had fleeced him. I can’t be sure, because our sister passed away right around that time.’
‘And Angel?
‘That’s the thing. Leeroy never wanted her to have a boat, because she was a girl and fishing was a man’s job. That was when my sister was sick. She told him, if he didn’t get Angel a boat, she’d divorce him before she died, make him split all their assets down the middle and put her share of the inheritance in Angel’s name. That gave Leeroy a fright; he wouldn’t just feel it in his wallet, but his pride would take a dent as well. Can you imagine? The richest guy on the block getting shafted by his dying wife? So he said yes. He bought his daughter a lobster trawler, by which I mean he loaned her the money, of course, but we’re pretty sure, Jacques and I, that he had her sign some sort of document. I haven’t seen anything about that in your report, but we wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who inherits the boat.’
Moralès had a hard time believing it. ‘Are you suggesting your brother-in-law had his daughter killed to get his hands on her boat?’
‘We wouldn’t know about that, but you might want to take a closer look at that lobster trawler.’
Jacques Forest shifted his weight from foot to foot, and Moralès saw him glance at Érik Lefebvre and Simone Lord, who were approaching their trio. ‘We’ll see you at my place tomorrow morning, then?’ The fisherman was clearly keen to wrap up the conversation.
Moralès nodded as the constable and the fisheries officer joined them.
Lefebvre knew everyone and was soon shooting the breeze as freely as an insurance broker. ‘Apparently the Langevin brothers have got branches all over the Gaspé Peninsula. Have any of you made arrangements? The older brother gave me his card. He’s pushing the columbarium pretty hard. I have to admit it’s tempting, because anyone who comes to visit won’t get their feet dirty. He says it’s better than the cemetery for visiting in the winter. I found him quite convincing. Truth be told, I do know the guy a bit. He used to be a car salesman, so he knows how to talk to customers.’
Marlène and Jacques Forest took advantage of the awkward silence that followed to say their goodbyes and slip away just as Leeroy Roberts and his sons approached. As Lefebvre and Lord offered their condolences, Moralès shook Jimmy’s hand and kept hold of it as he took him aside.
‘I want to see you down at the station tomorrow afternoon,’ he said.
The young man glanced at his father, who was watching them with hard eyes. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about last night, detective, but we were told there’d be no charges pressed because…’
Moralès twisted Jimmy’s hand and cut him off, but lowered his voice so his father wouldn’t hear. ‘Where were you on the night your sister died?’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘I hope you have a solid alibi, because I think you went down to the boat to go poaching. I think your sister was there when you arrived and she wanted to stop you taking her boat.’
‘We Robertses have nothing to hide!’ He raised his voice so his father would hear.
‘What about those friends of yours – the Babins? Do they have something to hide? Did it happen like it did last night? You just stood by and let them hit her, and claimed you weren’t part of it?’
Roberts junior gulped.
‘You love being on the water? Well make the most of it while you can. Because there’s no such thing as a waterfront jail cell, Jimmy boy,’ Moralès said, releasing his hand.
Roberts senior muscled his way in, annoyed to have been sidelined from the conversation. ‘We’ve organised a few nibbles for people, if you’d like to join us…’
Lefebvre was only too happy to accept the invitation, while Lord and Moralès politely declined. The detective stood and watched them walk away before he went back to his car.