The night before had been memorable, but one schnapps too many was causing certain after affects neither hoped to repeat. Thoughts of breakfast were mulled over momentarily, but a mutual agreement was made to try and ignore any seediness and indulge in breakfast anyway. Freshly squeezed juice helped clear the fuzziness, so they tried a delightfully crunchy Swiss muesli, topped with locally picked raspberries sprinkled into a raspberry coulis, topped with a large homemade dollop of vanilla yoghurt to finish - a popular specialty of the hotel restaurant.
During breakfast, it was decided to walk the distance along the main road of the town of Martigny to a local gallery museum. A unique exhibition of paintings by the French impressionist artist, Pierre-Auguste Renoir would be displayed for several more days.
'Do you know much about him Harry?' Tony asked, finishing the last mouthful of muesli and reaching for his coffee.
'No, not a lot,' sniffed Harry. His friend was far more interested in the arts than he was. Soon he hoped to complete the next chapter of his book about Richard III, feeling satisfied words were at last appearing on paper. His progress so far, was that things were falling into place, the sequence of important events being accurate, as far as could be expected from the enormous amount of research he'd done. Various royals were often married into chosen families of importance in order to gain land, power and prestige. What he loved most of all was learning about British and European history, dating back to pre Norman. The medieval period was of particular interest, containing an endless amount of tantalizing events, people and countries; including various castles, battle sites and intermarrying royals. He was determined to press on and continue as and when the opportunities presented themselves. Harry felt almost lured into writing the book, temptation overwhelming and he hoped it wasn't into a false sense of security. Richard III of England was an intriguing person to write about, although many books about his life and times were already published. But he needed to stamp his own interpretation - it stimulated his writing ability, as Richard left unsolved mysteries in his wake after the battle of Bosworth ended. He'd been a controversial king, coming to a gruesome end and as Harry considered the reasons, it could be considered because of Lord Thomas Stanley and his brother William. They were a treacherous lot and liable to support the winning side of a battle, betraying Richard in the end, at Bosworth.
His attention was brought back to the present time when Tony asked him another question.
'You appear to be far away somewhere. I can tell by the look in your eyes. Would you care to see the exhibition?'
'What exhibition?'
Tony grimaced. 'The special Renoir exhibition that's on here in Martigny for another few days. A marvelous opportunity to view some of his work, don't you think?'
Harry finished the last of his strong black coffee. 'Of course. I was in another century for a moment - the fifteenth to be precise. Yes...yes I'm happy to accompany you. Not too familiar with the impressionist artists, but there's one way to find out I guess.'
Tony suddenly felt enthusiastic. 'Of course it is, but you could do your own thing if you prefer. I could toddle off there by myself - I wouldn't mind.'
'No, I'd like to go. It would definitely be worth seeing,' Harry replied, getting up from the breakfast table after dabbing his mouth on a serviette. 'How about we leave in an hour?'
'Right then, see you in the foyer,' replied Tony, thinking he needed more coffee beforehand.
Later that morning they entered the large gallery rooms of the museum and both men strolled at their own leisure, gazing at the art on display. Tony was particularly intrigued with one of the smaller paintings and couldn't help returning to view it a second time, where a strict looking attendant appeared to guard it. He wouldn't have minded taking a photo with his smart phone in order to remember it, but one look at the guard and he thought better of it. It was of a lady strolling through a field of flowers, a white umbrella charmingly held over her right shoulder, perhaps to keep the sun from her soft pale pink complexion. He noticed a child at her side as if tempted to pick some of the flowers growing high, scattered before them. Tony was engrossed with the simple paint daubs and smears that made up the enchanting scene capturing his full attention. 'How could an artist evoke such an atmospheric scene with what at first looks like simple splotches of coloured paint? It was astonishing.' Several more beautifully framed paintings equally held his complete attention until he met up with Harry, who also appeared to be enjoying himself.
'What ho Harry!' he chuckled. 'See anything you like?'
'Plenty! This man was a genius,' he beamed enthusiastically. 'I've quickly become a fan and to some of the other artist's works displayed here also. Love those of Monet.'
Tony was delighted with his friend's perhaps first proper initiation into the world of impressionist art. Apart from Renoir, Claude Monet was another prolific painter, with some of his paintings on exhibition here as well.
'Pleased you came by the sound of it. Me too for that matter. What an opportunity this was! In the right place at the right time, eh?'
Harry didn't need to think for very long. 'Yes, we certainly were. Have you seen the painting of those two young children, legs outstretched while they read a book? It's delightful. How does an artist depict such young, fresh innocence in children - there faces as cherubs?'
'I agree. It's a born talent I think Harry. There is a similar painting of two older girls playing a piano. An elegance of the era.' Tony was in his element and continued. 'I think Renoir must have spent much time in Paris, apart from elsewhere. He was excellent at capturing groups of people sitting at a table, their live-style on display as they discuss the topics of the period. He was an expert with nudes too I think. The ladies he painted were... shall we say...somewhat voluptuous.' His face contorted in a sort of grin as he cocked his head to one side. 'The skin tones are like peaches and cream - pale pink, feminine and natural-looking. All done with paint. Magical!'
'Hmm...yes, I noticed,' Harry replied. 'Very pretty. The skin tones blending to perfection. Most women in those days wouldn't have roasted their skin like the young girls do today, stretched out on beaches, scantily clad.' He groaned slightly, shaking his head, then brightened up enthusiastically. 'A wonderful talent indeed, to be able to depict that sort of thing with just daubs and brush strokes. Stunning! I enjoyed all that,' he said cheerfully, 'glad we made the effort.'
After concentrating on the art, both friends wandered to another main section of the museum - amazed and engrossed with all the items on display - stretching at least as far back as Roman times.
Harry was studying some weapons. 'Hey Tony, come and look at these! Would you believe they had the designs, know-how, and materials at hand to create these that long ago?'
His friend came to stand at his side, as they both bent down to absorb the refined details. 'Those Romans sure knew a thing or two, didn't they? And responsible for inventing many things that long ago.'
Harry mused over this briefly. 'Under floor heating I think. Wonder why it took so long for it to evolve in England? I believe Cistercian monks in thirteenth century Europe revived this idea.'
'How do you know that?' Tony asked, almost indignant, but pleased his friend knew something about it.
Harry wasn't daunted in the slightest. 'Oh, I read about it ages ago. Very clever the Romans and the idea was later employed or changed to suit certain conditions, but then forgotten about for a very long time.
'Pity it wasn't acted upon in England centuries ago,' retorted Tony, his face clouding with the memories of his childhood. 'There were many people who constantly suffered terribly with the cold each winter.'
'How right you are. We never even had a proper bathroom like they do now, with all those fancy taps and fittings. None of it. It seems astonishing central heating wasn't adapted years ago, but, c'est la vie! Would have made a lot of difference in those bitter icy winters.'
After further discussion, the morning had advanced and a nice lunch became uppermost in Tony's thoughts.
'Don't know about you Harry, but I fancy finding a decent little restaurant where we can sit and watch the world go by.' Harry was in agreement and they strolled back towards the hotel, finding a suitable place to sit in the warm sunshine. The weather although changeable, remained warm in sheltered areas as the main street stretched long and wide, the city surrounded by rising vine-covered hills, farms and grazing, reaching higher to the foothills of the mountains.
As they settled at a table, Harry had been thinking about the city of Martigny and how it was linked with Italy via the St Bernard Pass - one of the main routes across the Alps, once used by Caesar, Charlemagne, Hannibal and more recently by Napoleon. His thoughts were interrupted momentarily by Tony on an entirely unrelated subject.
'Did you know this city is well known for a pear brandy produced here?'
'No... err...what was that you said?'
'Weren't you listing just now? I asked if...'
'Yes, yes...I was actually. Just elsewhere with my thoughts, that's all.'
Tony remained patient. 'Where exactly?'
'I was thinking about the St Bernard Pass,' replied Harry.
'What on earth for, may I ask?'
Harry remained in a state of momentary confusion - his thoughts amounting to many questions in his fuddled mind. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. 'Oh, I started wondering about something...'
Tony frowned. 'Now what? By the way, do you want something to eat? We'd better order soon. I'm even more hungry now. Museums make me hungry, or perhaps it's the alpine air.' His gaze wandered to the mountains in the distance.
'You're always hungry. I'll have what you're having,' Harry answered, still pondering with different ideas flooding through his mind. 'A beer too would do nicely - thanks. It will help me to think,' he mumbled.
'About what?' Tony's eyes narrowed, beginning to wonder what was going through his friend 's mind in particular.
'Do you see that newspaper over there?' Harry nodded in the direction where it was displayed for all to see - a short distance away from their table. 'Can you read what it says from here?' he asked, knowing Tony's eyes weren't as sharp as they used to be?'
Tony peered over at the news stand, where the headlines were clear and concise. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up. He became quite animated. 'Hey Harry, that looks interesting! Well I never. Could it be the same murder we almost discovered in Nice?'
'I think it could be. Not a lot of murders would occur there, surely?'
It set Tony's mind racing immediately.
They ordered lunch from a young male waiter, who was eager to write it down, as the seats were filling up quickly. He smiled briefly, before scurrying back to the kitchen.
Harry continued with his thoughts. 'That's what I've been wondering about soon after we settled here.'
'What exactly?' Tony was becoming caught up in Harry's intrigue, thinking along the same lines as his friend. 'You don't think...'
'I do and I have been - yes. I've hardly stopped thinking about that murder since we left Nice. What I saw has bothered me for a long time. The man's face fitted someone we both met and with whom we spent quite a while - a meal even!'
Tony was now fully alert and drew his chair in closer to face his friend who was frowning, looking somewhat grim. 'Who for goodness sake?'
Harry took a long slow breath before answering. 'Well...when we stayed at the house in Port Grimaud briefly...' He paused for several moments.
'Go on, don't stop now!' Tony was anxious to hear what was coming next, sharpening his gaze, fixing it on the person sitting opposite on the other side of the table.
'Well...do you remember Vanessa's father, Luca?' he asked.
'No! You don't mean him, surely?' Tony's eyes grew larger. 'I can hardly believe...'
Harry wasn't daunted by his own accusation. 'Yes, I do and when I saw that man's face briefly from the car as he turned before disappearing up a laneway that day, I've been troubled ever since. I wasn't sure it was him at the time - couldn't quite remember where I'd seen that face. But now... see? There's a photo of him on the front page. Looks as though they have apprehended him and he's been charged with murder.'
Tony was astonished. At first words escaped him, but then after considering the situation said, 'Murder! Good lord! But what do you think his motive would have been?'
Harry rose then and wandered over to the news stand. He returned slowly, engrossed with what was written on the front page. 'It appears the motive was jealousy, at least I think so.' He read on.
'Jealousy? That makes no sense. Anything else?' Tony looked puzzled. The waiter chose that moment to deliver their meal. 'Merci,' Tony said, as the young man put the beers to one side. 'What else does it say Harry?'
Harry read further down the front page, muttering. "l'homme a ete pris pour...'
'Taken to where?' Tony was impatient to hear more. 'Where have they taken him?'
'Good grief! You'll never guess?' Harry looked up from the newspaper.
His friend was fit to burst with curiosity. He couldn't wait a moment longer and almost snatched the newspaper from Harry's hands. He read the French, skipping over a few words he wasn't sure about, but he certainly got the gist of the article, then announced looking up at Harry. 'Luca was brought here, to Martigny! Can you imagine that? It says he was found soon after crossing the St.Bernard Pass from Italy. He must have almost taken the same route as us. The police from several countries have been looking for him. Evidently he committed a minor offense years ago, it says, and they found finger prints at the scene in Nice and were a perfect match. Well well!'
His chum reflected for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as he thought. 'But why was the motive jealousy I wonder?' Harry remained a little puzzled.
Tony read on further. 'It appears after being questioned for two hours, Luca eventually told the police everything, that his daughter Vanessa had been having an affair and disloyal to her husband George. So he killed her lover. I'd have been tempted to...'
Harry stopped him in time. 'Don't say it. You wouldn't have been tempted and you know it. You couldn't even squash a fly, let alone...'
Tony ploughed on. 'He did it to try and save their marriage it says here. That's a thin excuse, I must say. The Swiss police noticed his car he was still driving - parked near the same café we called at, not long after the tunnel from Italy. You know, the one where the lady...'
'Yes, I remember the one. We enjoyed a pleasant lunch by a large waterfall some time later after sampling some delicious cheese, What else does it say?'
'Hmmm...sa fille...bla bla bla...'
'What about his daughter?' Harry took a long draught of his cold beer and sat back to ponder what had come to light at last.
'It doesn't say a lot more. It just mentions that his daughter won't be charged as an accessory to the murder,' Tony replied, still reading over the front page of the newspaper. He looked up suddenly. 'Do you realize Christine, who we shared the house with briefly and with whom we went to Monroe's pub, is the ex wife of another good friend of mine?' Tony continued, looking grim. 'Well Vanessa was her step daughter if you remember, and George her husband. Luca was Vanessa's father.'
Harry grimaced for several moments, not sure what to say next, then added, 'Yes, I remember all of them. Luca was at the pub too when we had those pizzas. That's why Luca's face drifted in and out of my mind after we left Nice. I only caught a brief glimpse of him at the time, and why it has taken so long for it to register. Probably just as well, because we could have been detained there a lot longer by the police.'
'But what a dreadful thing to do under the circumstances. He must have had a few other problems up above.' Tony pointed briefly to his head, his expression taught.
'Perhaps you're right. Sounds as thought he might have been...' Harry cleared his throat, 'you know, a little touched up there. I wonder what Vanessa is thinking now, she being the cause of it? But you don't go around murdering people because of an affair! I wonder if Luca had been planning this at the time we were eating at Monroe's pub?'
'Who knows. It's over now and thank goodness it is. If you had remembered him at the time when you saw Luca for that brief moment in Nice, you might have had to go to court when his case came up.'
Harry smiled grimly and pulled one of his faces. 'A lucky escape I guess.' He gave a large sigh of relief. 'Fancy another beer Tony?'
'Yeah, why not! A small celebration, huh?' He was also hoping they could put this business well and truly behind them. They still had a long journey ahead of them.
The sun's rays drifted across the table and through the restaurant, as shadows were creeping stealthily over the hills and valleys nearby, nestling into sloping shingled rooftops and large leafy trees lining the roadside, their foliage remained vivid green mainly, with only a hint of changing seasons. Autumn hadn't arrived as yet.
The next morning they had arisen feeling refreshed, wanting to be on the road immediately after breakfast - looking forward to seeing more of Switzerland. Their next planned stay, being Lausanne, today's drive would be relatively straight forward for Harry.
They cheerfully packed the car again, setting off in a northerly direction, soon to skirt Lake Leman, or as some called it, Lake Geneva.
Several clouds speckled the sky as mists were burning off the valleys, swirling ghost-like in early autumn light. Beside the road, moisture threaded its way through the undergrowth and tall grass, where it rose in soft wisps drifting low over streams and meadows. A few trees moved silently in a gentle breeze as they stood like sentinels dotted over hills and around farms. The houses were typically Swiss and in a few of the fields they passed, herds of cows were peacefully grazing, bells tied around their necks on strong leather straps, clanging as they strolled looking for the sweetest grass to eat. Most of the best grazing was already eaten, as autumn was not far off. They would be brought in to winter over in sheds until the following spring.
'You're quiet this morning my friend.' Tony noticed Harry looking pensive and tried to cheer him up. 'Just think of what we might find today, eh?'
'Like what may I ask?' He sounded almost gloomy.
'Oh! a castle or two. We could explore that one at Chillon. It's right on the lake. I thought you'd like that. What do you say?'
'That sounds nice,' replied Harry, with a smile. 'I was just wondering if I should programme Miss Madam for today, that's all. We need to find that hotel you mentioned and we don't have a map of Lausanne.'
'Apart from the fact she's been difficult at times, it wouldn't be a bad idea,' Tony agreed. 'We don't want to go round in circles again, like we did in Avignon. What a fiasco that was!'
Harry soon found a place to pull over where he used the same process as before to enter the hotel name and address.
'There - done!', he announced, looking pleased with himself. 'Let's hope no mess ups today. It should be a simple matter of driving anti-clockwise around the lake to find Lausanne. But first, Chillon castle.'
'Why there in particular?' enquired Tony.
'Because it goes back a long time in history, being the 12th century when it was in the Savoy era. The castle is a listed medieval building hundreds of years old. In it's lifetime over many centuries it has seen different construction and alterations. It was built on a small rocky island jutting out into the lake, attached to the mainland by a man-made bridge, acting both as natural protection and a strategic location to control movement between both the north and south of Europe and trade passing through the Alps. Then came the Bernese era from 1536, followed by the Vaudois era from 1798 until today.'
Tony was more than a little impressed with what Harry had just related. 'Good lord! You do appear to know an awful lot about that place, don't you old friend?'
Harry grinned. 'Oh, a little I guess. Another medieval place I've come across while reading,' he said, driving on a pleasant stretch of road. 'These places and the people who lived there can be fascinating. They travelled an awful lot too - all on horseback. Imagine that! Think of how many miles we cover in a day in the car and all they had were horses. They managed to venture out a lot too, often covering many miles in a year.'
'The winter would have put a halt on things,' Tony considered. 'Specially in these mountainous areas,' he added, gazing into the distance.
'It prevented battles too. No one in their right mind could conduct a battle in freezing, icy conditions. They needed to wait until spring or at least better weather.'
Miss Madam, their sat/nav guided them towards the start of Lake Leman and soon they were thinking of stopping for a coffee. Harry spotted a car park across the road from a restaurant built out over the lake. 'This looks hopeful,' he said, bringing the black Mercedes to a halt.
'
No comments:
Post a Comment