Avan Aval Adhu 606
Every story has a beginning which is a story by itself and needs telling. Every person is a story by themselves and the lives of great minds and achievers are told, retold, written about, discussed and debated. Good or bad, God or demon, every person, or character is discussed if they have done enough to capture the attention and minds of a majority of people.
The Englishman whom Andre Fournier, Head of security for the world famous Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris and Police commander John Paul, Paris division were talking about was one of their own. A French citizen who had been christened Jules Chirac by his parents and yet had been nicknamed Englishman simply because of his obsession with two world-famous Englishmen. One real and the other fiction. Although, the fictional creation lives on and I am sure will linger on throughout the 21st century or even beyond that.
Jules Chirac had been conceived sometime during 1944 when his father had liberated himself into his mother and she had then liberated herself of her child on the very day France had finally been fully liberated from Nazi Germany's occupation. That had been May 8, 1945, and at the same time that the Germans had officially surrendered and had signed the document to that effect.
What happened the moment France regained independence in 1945 was a wave of purging officially sanctioned by their leader Charles de Gaulle, of all those who had actively participated with the Nazis during their occupation of France. Nearly 10,000 people branded traitors had been officially executed although the numbers are supposedly far higher than that.
The executions and killings brought back the horrors that had been perpetrated during the 1789 revolution when in the name of liberty and equality they had executed their King Louis XVI along with dozens of royal family members by using the guillotine. The reign of terror as the French Revolution was called consumed more than 30,000 lives officially. Unoffically... well.
Back in those days, news from the capital reached the citizens slowly and sometimes never. The parents of Jules Chirac were farmers and people who believed in hard work and so they went about their daily lives as they and their ancestors before them had been doing for several generations. Even the Nazi German occupiers largely left the farming community to their own lives but kept taking away 80 to 90 per cent of their produce of grain, fruits and vegetables and most of it was sent away to feed their Axis army that was locked in a deadly battle with the armies of the allies in the various frontlines.
World War two finally swung in favour of the Allies when in June 1944, two million men landed on Normandy beach in an operation called " Overlord " and entered Nazi-occupied France. It was a hard-fought victory for the allies comprising of the American, British, Canadian, Polish and French but sadly nearly 5,000 soldiers lost their lives on the very first day of the Normandy invasion that is today known as D-Day and 30,000 more men lost their lives in the operation.
It took two months before the allied forces reached Paris which they did in 1944 and by May 1945 the war had come to an end with the surrender of Nazi Germany. Ironically, Hitler their leader, shot himself and died before he could be captured and brought to trial for all the death and mayhem he had caused on a global level.
But going back to 1944, as the Allied forces advanced into France and towards Paris, they were greeted with great love and respect by the French nationals who did their best to make their march comfortable. They did so by feeding them well even though it meant starvation for them and Jules Chirac's parents did the same for the allied soldiers.
This point in time is where the paths of a British Major and the Parents of Jules Chirac crossed when he and his men stopped for some water and then requested his hosts a place for him and his men to rest a while.
Jules Chirac's parents did more than that while the British Major and his unit slept peacefully in the farmhouse on beds and pillows of hay. They went in search of Heidi the only Pig that remained and after apologising to the pig that had been with them, killed him and turned him into lunch.
The British Major and his men jumped to their feet when the flavours and smell of Pork being fried wafted not into their noses but into their starving souls and coming out they stood looking longingly at their host through the kitchen window and watched as food was being prepared.
Then much to their surprise, both the husband and wife came out and invited all of them into their house for lunch and all seven of them including their Major, went in happily accepting the request. Their unit had left the shores of England 500 strong of which only seven now remained.
The next day morning, the British Major handed a note to the gentle couple and said in flawless French, " S'il arrive un moment où vous pensez que je peux être utile à vous et à votre famille, venez me rencontrer ici ( If there comes a time when you think I can be of some help to you and your family, please come and meet me here).
That had taken place in 1944 and then in 1945 Jules Chirac, Englishman as he was called was born into a brave new world free of Nazi oppression and occupation. He arrived quietly, safely without causing any pain to his mother Sofia who fell in love with him immediately.
Jule's parents did try for another child but it did not happen and he was their first, last and everything to them.
The reason for his being called " Englishman " happened to happen on his birthday when as usual he went about exploring the farm with Shep, his Border Collie who without any warning ran into the barn chasing a large rodent and Jules ran after his dog yelling, ' Shep, ne les poursuivez pas et ne les mordez pas. les rats vous transmettront la rage et d'autres maladies (Shep, dont chase them or bite them. rats will give your rabies and other diseases).
Shep true to his nature ran around the barn madly in pursuit of the large rat and in his enthusiasm to reach the rodent dived into hay bales sending stacks tumbling down like Jack and Jill tumbled down the hill.
The young Jules stared at the small pile of discoloured books and picking one up stared at the picture of a balding man with a beaky nose and shining eyes that shone light into him.
Gathering all of them, he ran to his parents who sitting him down told him about the time when a British Major and his men had stopped to rest at their farm and his father turning to his mother introspected, ' Must have been one of them who left these books behind. Wonder why?'
In the summer of 1965, Jules who had just finished college travelled to England leaving his country France for the first time with a single purpose in his mind. To visit the gravesite of his favourite author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who lay buried in All Saints Church, Minstead, Hampshire.
Young Jules Chirac got down from the bus and tentatively enquired with a passerby how he could go about reaching the All Saints Church and after being given directions headed towards the final resting place of his hero, mentor, guide and creator of his fantasy character.
It was late in the morning and a typical gloomy overcast sky that kept threatening to unleash cold showers on any human who was not carrying an umbrella.
Jules Chirac had looked up at the sky and had pleaded with it, ' S'il vous plait, Monsieur. S'il vous plaît, ne pleuvez pas avant que j'aie fini de parler et de remercier Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Après cela, faites ce que vous voulez, mais je vous supplie de ne pas pleuvoir jusqu'à ce que j'aie fini de lui parler. J'ai voyagé loin d'un petit village de France pour rendre hommage à M. Doyle et à M. Holmes. Merci ( Please sir. Please dont rain until I have finished speaking and thanking sir Arthur conan doyle. After that, please do what you will but I beg you not to rain until I have finished talking to him. I have travelled far from a small village in france to pay homage to both Mr. Doyle and Mr. Holmes. Thank you).
Young Jules had then sat down in front of the Gravesite and had begun talking to him and did so for a long time. Then the light had disappeared when a shadow had fallen across him and he had seen the tall imposing Englishman staring down at him with a pipe in his left arm.
Jules had stood up with a smile and had tried to explain the reason why he was there and also tried to convince the Stranger that he was not crazy and that he was just reading from one of Sir Doyle's novels.
Much to his surprise, the stranger had replied in flawless French, ' mon garçon, pas besoin d'expliquer ce que tu faisais car je fais ça presque tous les jours. Je suis comme vous un grand fan de M. Doyle et M. Holmes ( laddie, no need to explain what you were doing for I do that almost every day. I am like you a huge fan of Mr. Doyle and Mr. Holmes).
The Englishman had then invited him to a nearby inn for a pint of Guinness and to discuss more about Sherlock, Watson and France and young Jules had happily accepted the invitation and had followed him.
After a few sips, Jules had taken out one of the novels that he had found in his barn and had proudly brandished it to the Englishman who went by the name Robert Fitzroy and watched with fascination as the man's eyes had nearly popped out in shock.
' Laddie, where did you get that book?'
' I found it in my barn when my collie Shep was chasing some rats. My parents told me that they must have been left behind by some British Soldiers who stayed on our farm for a day on their way to liberate Paris from Nazi German occupation.'
The Englishman had gently placed his huge mug of Guinness on the table and had stared hard at Jules before requesting him to open the book and read the name.
' Laddie, you will find my name Robert Fitzroy the fourth written there. I did not but sadly, I have no control over my wife who committed that sacrilege of doing that and tarnishing a book that belongs to everyone and yet at the same time to none.'
Young Jules Chirac had opened the book and after reading the name had jumped to his feet and had saluted the Englishman and then his world had changed forever.
Avan Aval Adhu 607
The news that Dr Jules Chirac popularly known as " Englishman " was going to do a preliminary examination of the dead bodies did not come as a great surprise to the French Police team who stood guard over the dead for they all knew only too well what he had accomplished while serving the nation.
One police commando enquired as to why the powers to be had roused the Dr Jules out of his retirement and that too at such an early hour. His colleague looked up at the still-dark December skies and replied that time could have been the deciding factor.
Tapping his black digital watch, ' it is nearly 7.00 am and today being a Sunday there is going to be a huge number of people, mostly tourists who will start queuing up at the gates to enter this cemetery which has now become a sort of museum. So, we might have just about an hour or a little more before Dr Jules is done with his examination and we are allowed to remove the bodies and transport them to the morgue where our pathology team can go about their duty more leisurely and without any time constraints. '
Their headsets squawked loudly and all of them heard their team captain announce the arrival of the Good Doctor. ' The boss is here and I hope all of you remember to stay out of his way and leave him to his work. Take it from me, the doctor does not like anyone disturbing him or his train of thought. More importantly, he is here after being deputed by the Interior minister himself. So, people, unless you enjoy cleaning public toilets and wading knee-deep in sewage which I promise you will be doing by tomorrow in case one of you irritates or frustrates him, shut the f..k up and stay out of sight and only respond if he asks you pointedly. Got that.'
He yelled loudly, ' I asked you a question. Did you get all that I just said?'
Every member screamed their reply, ' Yes sir. I did.'
In the dull yellow light of the cemetery lamps and in the first light of the coming dawn, the members of the police and Andre Fournier watched as Dr Jules Chirac, the Englishman walked towards them dressed in white protective overalls accompanied by two assistants from the local CSI team. One was carrying boxes in both his hands while the other was carrying two portable halogen lights.
Dr Jules Chirac stopped seeing Andre Fournier and quipped, ' More dead to the already dead it seems. How are you doing, Andre?'
' I was doing fine until I reported this, sir ' and wringing his hands nervously, ' Sir, I don't want to burden you with my duties but...' and stopped unable to continue.
Dr Jules nodded, ' I am aware Andre, that it is Sunday and that we have little time to get this done and clear out the dead before they become world famous. Don't worry, I am sure it is going to be all right. France does not want to be in the world news with these kinds of deaths and not when the Olympics are just around the corner.'
They all watched as Dr Jules and his two assistants slowly made their way towards the crime scene and the dead who lay scattered all around the long-dead grave of Edith Piaf.
Dr Jules in a soft voice requested for lights to be shone on the crime scene and when the light shone down illuminating the ground where the newly dead lay, gasped loudly and then all of them heard him exclaim loudly as his eyes began surveying every dead body.
' Oh là là ! (Oh my!), Aïe ! (Ouch!), C’est pas vrai ! (No way!), La vache ! (Holy cow!).'
Nearly ten minutes passed before the cold gloom and the deadly silence were broken by the ringtone of a mobile phone and Dr Jules Chirac snarling looked up to see who had dared disturb his examination. One of his assistants who had willingly volunteered raised the mobile without any fear and announced, ' Sorry doctor but it is Director-General Frédéric Veaux himself calling and he wants to talk to you.'
Shaking his head in frustration, he requested the assistant to come closer and put the call on loudspeaker mode and when she had done so greeted the top tanking police officer in France in a merry voice. ' Good morning, Frederic. How are your ulcers doing today?'
' Not good, Doctor. I am sure that they are ready to explode and consume me with their poison. But, you are there, and I am hoping that today is not my last day and that I will live for another few days at least.'
' Frederic, you are retiring in a few years, laddie. Do it right away, rest and recuperate and live out your life in peace far away from all this madness.'
' Doctor, you think they will allow me to slip away right now and that too with the games coming up next year? I doubt it.'
' Frederic, is it just that and your duty or is it the promise of being honoured by the president himself.'
Director-General Frédéric Veaux cursed loudly and openly without any inhibition, ' Dr Jules, so you still have your ears plugged in with our department.'
After a few moment of exchanging news and updates about their lives, Director-General Frédéric Veaux asked, ' Boss, what happened to those men? I was informed that they are all
criminals and so I am guessing there must have been some kind of turf war which means Drugs. A lot of it.'
' You are right in guessing that they are all criminals but I doubt if it was a gang war in which they killed each other ' Dr Jules announced in an ominous tone and continued, ' I think they were all executed.'
' Executed ' Director-General Frédéric Veaux screamed loudly and hurriedly asked, ' You mean they were all shot to death. That means a rival gang surely. The bullets will lead us to the guns and that will lead us to the killers. '
' Executed not by guns.. Frederic but all of them were killed by sharp weapons.'
' Guns or knives or machetes. It does not matter now, Doctor. They are all criminals and were killed by criminals. Put that in your report and send it to me immediately and I will personally place it in front of the Minister and close the case,'
' Frederic, I will do that but I will have to also add a little more information that might complicate your situation slightly..'
' Complicate my situation. How can that be? You just told me that they were killed by knives. That will do for me and the report.'
' Frederic, just hold for a moment while I ask your assistant to take a few photos of the dead and WhatsApp it to you. We will talk after you have seen them. All right ' and handing the phone back to the assistant asked her to do the needful.
The assistant quickly did what she was asked and then proceeded to send the pics to Director-General Frédéric Veaux's phone and looked at Dr Jules who asked her to hang up.
A few moments later the phone rang and with a smile, Dr Jules took the phone and answered the call from the highest ranking police officer in France who gasped, ' They have been sliced from head to toe... all twelve bodies have been sliced and chopped off. How is this possible Boss?'
' It is possible with a sharp blade or machine but what is nearly impossible is for it to be done by a human being.'
' What does that mean, Doctor?'
' I mean, that it would take near superhuman strength to slice a living human from head to toe and if that was indeed what happened here last night, then it will be easy for your department to trace out the killers.'
' Why do you say it is going to be that easy, Doctor?'
' Frederic, do you know how strong and muscled a person has to be to slice an entire body from top to bottom, let alone decapitate another human? These killers must be bodybuilders or world champions in powerlifting and feats of strength. This means that at least a few cameras would have captured these huge men entering and exiting the cemetery and which automatically makes your job easier.'
' It would make our job easier but why do I sense some misgivings in your voice, Doctor Jules? Why am I sensing that there is more to this case than you have just told me?'
' You are right, Frederic. But, I will be able to divulge and confirm my fears after a thorough examination of the bodies in the hospital.'
' Does that mean that you will handle the case personally?'
' Yes, my dear friend. I am not going to miss out or pass up such an interesting case. Not with just a few years left in my body.'
' All right. I accept and I will see to it that the bodies are immediately transported to a hospital of your choice.'
' My choice is Hotel-Dieu, Frederic. It will be the last place the press will look for when they get news about these killings and that we know is going to happen. So, lets get on with this before it is all to late.'
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