Free Eat Him If You Like by Jean Teulé Page B

shoulder, the fingers splayed as though begging for mercy.’ Alain’s facial features were frozen in an expression of agony, his twisted torso thrown back. The flames had captured Alain’s dying moments and preserved them as evidence.
    A groan emanated from elsewhere in the church. It was the priest, disturbed by the doctor’s loud voice. His cassock somewhat the worse for wear, the priest was sitting in a pew, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, nursing an awful headache. The Norman arches had witnessed unheard-ofgoings-on the day before, and the priest was now hung over. It was bad enough that the pinewood statue of Christ was being eaten away by dry rot, sprinkling the floor with dust. ‘Keep your voice down,’ the priest ordered the doctor, who continued to dictate his report.
    ‘Having examined the victim’s corpse, it is reasonable to conclude firstly that Monsieur de Monéys was burnt alive. Secondly, his death was caused by burns and asphyxiation. Thirdly, the recorded injuries on the corpse were caused by pointed, sharp and blunt instruments while he was still alive. Fourthly, one of the injuries, a blow to the head, was delivered from behind the victim while he was still standing. Fifthly, Monsieur de Monéys was dragged along while he was still alive. Sixthly, the combination of his injuries would inevitably have led to his death. Signed in Hautefaye, on 17 August 1870, by Dr Roby-Pavillon, physician.’
    The portly doctor turned round. His shoes squeaked, causing the priest to wince. He was having trouble sobering up from the day before. His complexion was literally green and he was close to vomiting. Just then the bronze church bells struck nine, ringing out over Hautefaye.
    Police on horseback had combed the surrounding countryside and were now returning to the village. They had arrested several men, who plodded behind them, attached to ropes, hands bound and heads bowed. They were escorted to the already crowded village square and left there. The police officers then set off again in search of other culprits on all the farms and in all the shops in the area.
    The public prosecutor from Bordeaux, a young man with sideburns, who had arrived at dawn, had a word with one ofthe sergeants.
    ‘Take it easy! Don’t bring back too many. We can’t lock them all up! There are only twenty-one cells in Périgueux jail, and the court won’t be able to try that many either. Think about it. Do you realise that you’d have to arrest six hundred people? It’s a … most unusual crime.’
    The prosecutor removed his glasses, wiped them and put them back on as though he could not quite believe his eyes.
    ‘Very well,’ replied the sergeant. ‘But should we arrest the first man who knocked out his teeth with an iron bar, for example?’
    ‘No, why? You’ll see there are so many people who did worse … Just settle for the main perpetrators.’
    ‘And the man who gouged out his eye with a fork?’
    ‘Yes, well … the man who gouged out his eye, if you like. But don’t worry too much, we’ve got enough. Is that the prefect of Ribérac’s carriage I spy behind those trees?’
    ‘Yes, that’s him.’
    ‘The whole of Périgord is deeply concerned,’ said the prefect, alighting from his carriage.
    Hautefaye was still in a state of shock as it began to stir. It was almost as though the entire village was hung over. The fierce beauty of the surrounding countryside seemed to beg the question ‘What on earth did you do yesterday? What came over you?’ The villagers shuddered again, appalled at themselves. ‘What did come over us?’ Confusion and bewilderment reigned. Apart from the main square, the village was deserted, almost abandoned. It was in a state of numbness. Residents stayed at home, hiding behind drawn curtains. Sitting around helplessly behind locked doors,eyes staring blankly, mouths hanging open.
    ‘Open up! It’s the police!’ Fists rapped on the doors.
    ‘What have we done?’
    A