By Paul Carrier
The investigative duo of Antoine Verlaque and Marine Bonnet — he, a judge, she, a law professor — find themselves immersed in the catty, backbiting world of puffed up academics in Murder in the Rue Dumas, the second in a series of mysteries set in Provence.
Dr. Georges Moutte, the elderly and manipulative head of a university’s theology department in Aix-en-Provence, is making enemies. After announcing his retirement, which triggers jostling among ambitious would-be heirs, Moutte reveals at a party in his stately, rent-free apartment that he has changed his mind. He won’t be stepping down after all.
One of Moutte’s potential successors, Bernard Rodier, storms out in a huff. Another, Annie Leonetti, is shocked by the news. A third is in Italy, but quickly learns of the about-face. Moutte also has antagonized some students, by toying with them as they try to discover who will win a prestigious fellowship that he controls.
Later that night, Moutte heads out to his office at the Université d’Aix, where he is bludgeoned. The killer escapes undetected and the murder weapon is nowhere to be found. But the police department’s forensics team determines that Moutte, a collector of antiques, was killed by someone wielding a 700-year-old wooden object.
As is so often the case in a good mystery, a complex case soon becomes even more problematic. Shortly after Moutte’s murder, his young, brassy secretary, Audrey Zacharie, is killed by a a hit-and-run driver. An accident? Or a second murder that is linked to the first?
Working with Bruno Paulik, a hulking but quietly refined police detective, Verlaque sets out to solve the case. Unlike the American judicial system, France has a cadre of judges who help the police investigate crimes. That’s where the self-satisfied, cultured Verlaque — a bachelor who has had an on-again off-again romantic relationship with Bonnet — comes in. Inevitably, Bonnet gets dragged into the investigation as well.
Murder in the Rue Dumas is a light, quick read, but it provides plenty of context to remind readers that this mystery is about more than finding a killer (or killers). It’s also a tribute of sorts to a specific locale. Provence in general, and Aix-en-Provence in particular, are lovingly rendered, as M. L. Longworth touches upon the region’s flora, architecture, history, cuisine, mannerisms and plain, old-fashioned quirks.
The ever-evolving relationship between Verlaque and the beautiful but somewhat insecure Bonnet is a cornerstone of the novel as well. Between this mystery and its predecessor, it seems these two are forever rekindling their romance one minute and drifting apart the next. In fact, the private lives of several characters — their friendships, romances and domestic arrangements — add a warm, very human touch to the proceedings.
Like Death at the Château Bremont, the first book in this series, Murder in the Rue Dumas opens a window on the lives of the French bourgeoisie, which may be a bit tiresome for some readers because of the constant chatter about gourmandise, prestigious wines, fine cigars and matters of style. If that sort of thing strikes you as pretentious, this may not be your cup of tea . . . or your glass of Saint Émilion Grand Cru.
Still, there is much to like in Murder in the Rue Dumas, with its passing references to Jean-Paul Sartre, Paul Cézanne and Émile Zola, and it’s intriguing historical snippets. When Bonnet finds herself walking in an area where the city’s medieval wall once stood, Longworth digresses briefly, and interestingly, into a review of how Aix-en-Provence once protected itself from the plague.
As to who committed the dastardly deeds, Longworth keeps us guessing until the final pages, when she also ties up loose ends by giving readers a peek into the future lives of some key characters.
All in all, this is an entertaining entry in a cozy series, thanks in large part to the chemistry between Verlaque and Bonnet, two likable, believable characters who invariably find themselves juggling detective work and, most importantly, romance.
