Evan and Elle - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,26

already completely involved. They said she didn’t have any kitchen staff working back there?”

“No, she did everything herself.”

“That’s good.” He turned back the men who were dragging the hose. “We’ll go straight in from the top, boys. The roof’s already gone at the back.”

Evan stepped out of the way to let the firemen work. He scanned the crowd but couldn’t see Madame Yvette. “Do you know what happened to the French lady who owned the place?” he asked a couple of local youths. “Did she get taken to hospital?”

“No, my mam took her down to the pub—the Vaynol Arms down the road. She was really upset.”

“So she was okay? Not burned at all?”

“Just crying a lot, as far as I know,” the boy said.

“You’re sure she was all right?” a man in a cloth cap asked. “This is a terrible thing to happen. I can’t say we wanted her here, but I wouldn’t have wished this on my worst enemy.”

“And you are?” Evan asked.

“Owen Gruffudd. I own the Gegin Fawr. The café down the hill. We’re neighbors.”

Evan looked at him with interest. Neighbors and rivals, he thought. But Mr. Gruffudd looked truly distressed. Evan would keep the name in mind for future reference, just in case.

Before he could head down to the pub, two cars drew up almost simultaneously. Sergeant Watkins got out of one and Peter Potter out of the other. They looked at each other with obvious distaste.

“No need for you to have been called out, Watkins,” Potter snapped in his flat southern voice. “I can handle this. You can bugger off.”

“My D.C.I. told me to come, and if he says jump, I jump.” Watkins walked past him to Evan. “I see they got you out of your bed, too. What news?”

Evan shook his head. “Not much. The restaurant was already shut when the fire started. The owner must have got out through the back door, gone to a neighbor’s house and called the fire brigade. I was on my way to get a statement from her.”

“I’ll come with you,” Watkins said. “We’ll let wonder boy get on with his job.” He glanced at Peter Potter, who was already prowling around the building. “With any luck a wall will fall on him.”

The Vaynol Arms was a long, whitewashed stone building about a quarter of a mile down the road. Madame Yvette was sitting on a bench close to the fire with a glass of brandy in her hand. She wore a black raincoat over her satin robe, pulled up high around her neck as if she was cold. Her face was hollow and tear-stained but her hair was still elegantly piled on her head. She held out a hand imploringly to Evan. “Zay want to get rid of me and now zay succeed.” Her voice cracked. “Who would do such a wicked sing, Mr. Evans, eh?”

“You have reason to think it was set deliberately, Madame?” Watkins asked.

Yvette gave an expansive shrug. “Why should my restaurant burn down? Zay send me zee warning notes, non?”

“Did you see anything suspicious at all tonight? Did anything unusual happen?” Watkins asked.

Yvette shook her head. “Nossing. It was a good evening. Almost full, n’est-ce pas? Constable Evans can tell you. He was zere.”

Watkins grinned. “Moving up in the world, eh, Evans? French restaurants now, is it?”

“This was the first time, Sarge,” Evan said. “We were the last customers to leave, just before ten.”

“So tell me when you discovered the fire, Madame.”

Yvette shrugged again. “All was well when I close up for zee night and I finish cleaning zee kitchen. Zen I am watching zee television and I must have fallen asleep in my chair. I wake to smell zee smoke and see zee flames at zee bottom of my stairs. I put my coat over my ’ead and run down zee stairs to zee back door. I am lucky to get out alive!”

Evan cleared his throat. “You say you fell asleep watching the telly. Is there any chance you were smoking and a cigarette could have dropped out of your hand?”

“Then ’ow could the flames be downstairs and not upstairs wiz me?” she demanded. “And anyway, I am trying to quit. I tell you, someone wants me to go.”

“But you had no warning?” Evan asked. “No threatening phone call tonight? No note?”

“Nossing!” Tears started rolling down her cheeks again. “Whoever did zis is a monster. He ruins my life. He takes all I have worked and slaved for.”

Watkins put a hand on her