Bouchard Roxanne
The Coral Bride
- Язык: en
- Формат: fb2
- Размер: 947.85 kB
- Жанр: детективы
- Год печати: 2020
Roxanne Bouchard
THE CORAL BRIDE
Translated from the French by David Warriner
For Catherine Asselin, SVN, counter of words and dear friend though the highest of tides.
The Bridal Gown
Angel Roberts wakes with a start to the crash of a lobster trap tearing the water’s surface in two. It’s a lobster trap, she’s sure it is. Thousands of times she’s heard the whoosh of the sea surging into these things, swallowing them up and spitting them out again. It sounds like a sail being torn to shreds.
She smiles, satisfied with her deduction, and then tries to figure out what the heck could be making the other sound she can hear: a hammering. It almost sounds like her anchor chain, but it’s not the regular clanking of the metal as it hurtles its way overboard. Truth be told, she barely ever uses the chain. Nor the anchor, for that matter.
The sound is curiously persistent. Little by little she comes to her senses and takes in her surroundings: the water lapping at the hull, the salty air filling her nostrils, the fabric of her dress clinging to her skin in the damp chill of the night. The pain of having her right arm twisted behind her back. Angel struggles to open her eyes. She’s propped up against the wheelhouse of her lobster trawler. The tailgate is open, and a chain is clanking overboard. The swivel connecting the chain to the anchor rode thunks over the edge, and now that rope is being dragged down to the depths. It’s attached to something, but what? The lobster trap she heard? But why?
Something yanks at her ankle and pulls her off her feet. Drags her body along the deck. Her long white dress is riding up, exposing her legs. The cold bites her thighs. Why is her right hand stuck behind her back? In a surge of panic, she spreads her left palm wide and presses it into the rubber deck matting, trying to slow her slide. Suddenly, the movement stops of its own accord. The counterweight of her body has halted the trap’s descent to the depths. Or maybe it’s already hit the seabed. The rope twitches tighter around her calves. Pulling herself together, Angel tries to wriggle her legs. What’s happening?
She draws a sharp breath as it dawns on her that someone’s trying to kill her. Yet she turns her gaze to the sky and exhales, and allows a sense of calm to wash over her.
IDENTIFICATION OF DECEASED
Name: Angel Roberts
Age: 32
Place of residence: Cap-aux-Os
Cause of death: Drowning
The dainty face of the moon smiles softly on Angel. She’s always loved the moon. But her mother said it was a liar. ‘If it looks like a D, you think it’s decreasing, and if it’s shaped like a C, you’d swear it’s curving bigger. But the moon is a liar, oh daughter of mine, you remember that. When it looks like it’s shrinking, it’s growing, and when it looks like it’s getting bigger, the opposite is true.’
A sharp noise shatters the silence, Angel’s dress tears, and, slowly, the line starts pulling her closer to the edge. Angel lets go. There’s nothing she can do. She knows she had this coming.
CIRCUMSTANCES OF DEATH (excerpt)
At around 6.00 pm on Saturday 22nd September, Ms Roberts had dinner at her father’s home with her husband, Clément Cyr, her father, Leeroy Roberts, and her older and younger brothers, Bruce and Jimmy. She and her husband were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary, four days early. They chose that night because it was a Saturday.
At approximately 10.00 pm, Mr Cyr and Ms Roberts made their way to Le Noroît, an auberge in Rivière-au-Renard known by locals as Corine’s, where the annual party to mark the end of the fishing season was taking place. (See attached list of individuals in attendance.)
At around 11.30 pm, Ms Roberts asked her husband to take her home, claiming she was tired. Mr Cyr proceeded to drive his wife home and returned to the party at around 1.00 am.
Angel’s body pivots slightly as it slides, freeing her hand. She feels sick, and now she’s wide awake. Turning her head to one side, she sees the watery shards of the moon lighting a path on the