The Sandcastle Conspiracy

Chapter 5: The Cliff

Loud sirens woke Suzanne and Marta up.

"Listen to all those sirens," Marta said. It looks like something weird is going on."

"Could be anything. Don't be paranoid," Suzanne replied with a smile, stretching out in bed.

Sirens were going wild, and at least half a dozen police cars were aiming in the same direction. It was early in the day. Sporadic tourists were looking to buy croissants and baguettes to enjoy in their rented apartments. Some locals were already grocery shopping.

Carla came back from the bakery.

"At the area of the Port-Vieux, a man has fallen from the cliff. Probably a drunk calling it a night after too much partying." Clara explained.

She thought Michel was staying at a hotel in the area, but when he left in the evening, Michel was heading back directly to his hotel.

She still wanted to find out. She called the hotel Michel mentioned during dinner.

"Bonjour, I'd like to talk to one of your guests, Mr. Barnier. I don't know the room number, but it's an important family matter. I hope you can pass me through."

"Just a moment Madame" replied the voice on the phone.

Carla heard the receptionist ask another colleague something.

"Excuse me, Madame. Mr. Barnier canceled his room yesterday and checked out during the night. I'm afraid I cannot help you. Maybe you could call him on his cell phone?"

"Oh! Ok. Thank you." said Carla. She hung up abruptly.

"Enjoy your breakfast, girls! I'm going for a walk!" Clara shouted before she left.

She needed to check what had happened. She walked as quickly as she could and arrived at the accident area twenty minutes later. Two ambulances, the 'gendarmerie', and firefighters were there. They were still rescuing a man who had fallen from the cliff and probably stayed gripped to a rock for quite a few hours.

Carla ignored the heavily armed Gendarmes shouting, "Circulez! Il n'y a rien a voir! Walk on! There's nothing to see here!" She looked from the wall and immediately recognized Michel's pullover.

She was initially tempted to say that she knew the man. However, the experience from past hidden operations shared with her husband made her act differently. She walked a little further and started shooting photos of everyone in the area with her smartphone: voyeurs, ER people, and police officers alike. Her phone camera was not very good, but if something like this had happened - as she knew very well that Michel could not have fallen there alone- it would be more than probable that whoever had done this to him was now checking the result of their actions.

Michel was in bad shape. She almost could not see him on the stretcher. The tubes and oxygen mask on him let her think that he was well alive. You could not kill Michel Barnier as easily. There was only an option for a hospital in the area. The ambulance was heading towards Bayonne's Hospital.

Carla stayed there for a moment after the ambulance left. A big white man looked down the cliff after the ER and police were gone. He was talking on the phone. She took a few pictures of him and left, heading back home.

Suzanne and Marta were preparing to go to the beach. Carla did not say a word and let them leave for a morning of sunburns and fun.

Clara shouted, "I'm going to see a friend in Bayonne, girls. Don't wait for me for lunch. There is tabbouleh and boiled eggs in the fridge if you don't know what to make yourself for lunch."

She left in her old green Ford Focus towards Bayonne's hospital.

Carla parked and walked into the hospital. Hospitals have this weird situation: as long as you look like you know where you are going, no one will ask you anything. It was clear that Michel would be brought to the trauma emergency area so he would not be hard to find. She wondered for a moment if he would be looked out, but it did not look like it. Carla breathed, relieved that Michel was only on parental analgesics and was no longer intubated. She decided to sit in a waiting room and found a place to glimpse the moment he would be moved to a room.

Two hours later, she followed the cellar, pushing Michel's bed to the third floor. She heard the nurses mention they had no name for that patient, but as he was out of danger, he would probably talk after two or three hours of rest.

Carla waited for the nurse control desk on the third-floor corridor to be empty and longed to enter the room where Michel was resting. Michel was still asleep. She moved close to him and decided to risk waking him up. "Michel, Michel! What happened?"

Michel slowly opened an eye and saw Carla.

"Alone?" Michel muddled.

"Yes, yes. Tell me," answered Clara.

Michel murmured something hardly audible Clara could not understand.

"The tree. Your tree!" insisted Michel.

And he passed out again.