The Louvre's case

TURPIN & RIBOT

And the Louvre’s case

Prolog:

1888, 1st of December, France.

The wind was blowing strong, the cloudy sky was a blooming pink flower and my feet were freezing. (dramatización) We were standing right in front of the enigmatic new building. The Eiffel tower, as they called it, was almost complete.

Next to me, Turpin was heavily enjoying the scramp of the white snow… most surely putting to test its density.

-Look, look! -she was saying-

Those images instantly reminded me how strange snow was in fact to me. I arrived in Paris three years ago with my little suitcase in hand. Leaving Mallorcas’ high temperatures behind. Shortly after my arrival I met Turpin.

Alone in the big cold city I felt the need to visit the coffee shop right in front of my hotel. I sat on the bar and asked nicely for a cup of tea while reading in the newspaper about possible flats I could rent. To my surprise, the lady sitting next to me started talking with me. Thus, we started discussing matters of a completely different level. Murders.

And that’s how I became the famous detective Turpin’s assistant.

Story:

(riiiiing)

-Turpin could you pick up the telephone?

- “Grunts”. NO!

-Pick the bloody telephone up! I’m making coffee!

-”Grunts”

(Turpin picks up the phone)

(Someone on the other line talks)

-Yes, the one and only.

(Someone on the other line talks)

-Alright

(Someone on the other line talks)

-Uhu!

(Someone on the other line talks)

-Right! We will be there in about ten minutes.

(Turpin hang up)

Ribot! Forget the coffee!

-What?

-Come on!

-WHAT?!

As Turpin promised, we arrived at the Louvre after ten minutes of exhausting running.There our dear acquaintance Florence was waiting for us.

-Glad to see you two, come in, this one’s a big one.

-Good morning Florence -I said-.

-Yeah, morning. Now, who’s this? -Turpin said pointing to the man standing next to her-

-Miss Turpin, Miss Ribot, this man standing by my side is Mr André. He has been a victim of the robbery.

-It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Turpin, people won't stop talking about you.

-Right, OK. Now, where is the dead body?

-Eager, aren’t we?

(Ribbot coffs)

Florence led us to the great Monalisa’s room. There, a dead man was lying on the floor, with lots, and lots of blood surrounding him. Although it looks like someone has wanted to clean it because it was spread all over the place.

-Florence? -Turpin broke the silence-

-Yes? -she said

-Would you mind bringing us two cups of coffee, please? I don’t know about Ribbot but my mind needs some help to funcion currently.

-And could you bring as the entire register?

-You both like skipping breakfast, don't you? No worries, I already knew this would happen. I will be back in a second. André, explain to the ladies the situation.

While I  try to put all my concentration on the man’s corpse I curiously observe out of the corner of my eye Turpin’s behavior. She is looking at Andrè with one of her mischievous looks. She moves closer to the man, without taking his eyes from him. She smiles at him, she takes a deep breath and says: 

-How many rooms are there in the museum, honourable man?

-52 Madam

-Including the bathrooms?

-Yes.

-Mmmm… Interesting. What do you know about the Mona lisa?

-With all respect, madam, I don’t think that’s a useful-

-I’m the one doing the questions here!

-Alright, alright. Right.

(Silence)

-Here I am. Two coffees and the register.

Florence strode into the room holding the cups on both of her hands and the file on her armpit. She came close to me and, with a smile on her face, she gave me my well deserved little breakfast and the register.

-Better give this information to Turpin, even though she would very much end up not needing it.

Florence laughed while I tried to remember where I left my thinking before my first sip of that specially delicious Almighty’s creation. Thankfully, Turpin’s voice took me out of my fantasy.

-Let’s see if what you told us is true to reality. Ribot! Bring those papers here.

-Here you go -I said handing them in

-52, right? That’s what you said.

-Indeed madam.

(Sound of papers)

(The ticking of a clock)

-Mmmm…, I’m afraid that’s true. Now, how about we take a look at your key-ring. Surely, it would be holding 52 keys, as there is one key for every door in this place, am I correct?

-Indeed madam.

André put his hands on his back, looking for the mentioned ring of keys. He stops momentarily, with a look of distress on his face. He carefully takes his jacket off and starts clumsily looking for the thing inside of its pockets. He finally sights and takes the key-ring from its hiding place.

-May I? -asks Turpin

André put the keys on Turpin's hand and, calmer than before, he straightens his back and puts his jacket on.

Right after that, without any kind of prior notice, Turpin throws me the key-ring to the sound of:

-Will you do me the favour of counting them?

It is in these kinds of moments when I feel utterly grateful for my long experience with the eccentric detective that taught me to never let my guard down.

I take the keys in the air and, with the laziness gone thanks to the coffee, I start counting them.

-10, 20, 30 -I start saying out loud-, 40, 50, 51, 52, 53…

-Uhu! See what I mean? Thank you Ribot, you were very helpful.

-I swear last time I checked there were 52, Miss Turpin -André tries to defend himself-.

Turpin ignores him and turns her head towards Miss Florence.

-Dear Florence, wouldn’t you, by any chance, know if there is a room in this entire museum that I could use to interrogate this man who calls himself André?

-For sure, please follow me.

-Do you want me to accompany you, Turpin? -I ask her-

-No, thank you -she declines-.

-It’s quite dark in there and really soundproof so it will be perfect for an interrogation -Florence says to her-.

And just like that, with Turpin doing cheerful little jumps, Florence smiling brightly at her and, the hypothetical sighting suspect following them, they leave me alone without even Mona Lisa’s painting to distract me.

I stay there for a while, quietly sipping the last drop of my cup of tea. With nothing left to do, I stroll around the room with my hands on my back while thinking of different ways to make myself wealthy. Although the more steps I take the harder it seems to create any single thought. Somehow and without being conscious of it I am falling asleep. I make an effort to keep my eyes open but suddenly I black out.

(sonido de cuerpo desplomándose)

(musiquita)

-Miss Ribbot! Miss Ribbot! Can you hear me?!

Someone is calling me, that’s the next thing I remember. It’s a woman’s voice but it’s clearly not Turpin’s. It’s someone I know all the same. She is Miss Florence, and I didn’t know she could shout that loud.

When I open my eyes I observe that I have fallen on the floor and by the ache of my spine I can deduce that I have been sleeping on it for some time too. While I was arranging all of this information inside my brain Florence has gone back to shouting, even though I’m already awake.

-André, Ribbot. André!!! He is the killer, and the robber! He has taken Turpin with him! Oh my goodness, what are we going to do now?! -she was saying

-I beg your pardon? Where is Miss Turpin?

-Weren't you listening? Ribot! André has captured the detective!

-The man?

-Who else would it be?!

-OK, OK, OK, just… Give me a moment.

I stand up and I dust off my jacket and my trousers.

-Can you bring me to the interrogation’s room? -I finally decide on asking-

-Yeah, yeah, of course. Come with me.

(quick steps)

-What was the last thing you saw, Florence?

-I left the two of them here and then I went to inform the other officer’s of Turpins suspicions. Right after that, when I came back, I saw André exiting the museum.

-Did you see Turpin?

-No, I don’t remember seeing her. However, when I came back she was no longer inside this room. Actually, she is nowhere to be seen, she has disappeared from the museum.

-That can’t be possible.

-It is.

No it’s not, I am fairly sure she would not leave me here without leaving me any message. Something must have happened to her.

-I fear André must have taken her with him. Dear God!

Yes, that’s a possibility, But not the only one. Maybe there is another pawn in this game. Maybe the man is another victim. Maybe, and just maybe, I’m the actual victim here. Although, this situation requires I act as a the heroine. 

I take a deep courageous breath.

-Would you please ask the officers to come to the museum, please?

Or, you know, maybe I should let all of this bravery to someone else.

-I’m going to get them. Do not worry Ribbot, we will find the detective.

I cross the room and I sit on one of its corners, waiting for Florence to arrive with the assistance. There is no light, nor can I hear a single thing. It would definitely be the perfect place for thinking if it hadn’t been for the heavy sadness that invaded me. What if Florence is right, what if Turpin was really gone. And what if she was gone forever, what if whatever the officers find is no longer alive. This is something I have learnt from her: overthinking. She used to say that overthinking never leads to a good reasoning, nevertheless, for reasons no one yet understands, she gets to the solution anyway.

I bump my head with the wall and the silence breaks with a sound. (SOUND) A quite interesting sound. Shouldn’t this room be soundproof? Then why did it sound as if the walls behind my head weren’t as thick as what they were supposed to be but rather thinner. The wall is hollow.

To help me stand, I put both of my hands on the floor, but the sudden cold in my left hand makes me concentrate on the blood I didn’t see before.

The first thought that comes to mind is that the liquid staining my skin belongs to someone who is still laying beside me in the dark. However, that is not the case. It’s just a puddle of blood close to the wall. Which is more reassuring than my former thought but not less tricky. Why is that blood there? Whose blood is it?

I put that information aside for a moment and go back to the fact that the walls are hollow.

I ran my hands along the wall, looking for something abnormal. What I find is a cylinder lock which curiously enough is right above the poodle of blood. It’s right in that moment that I remember that I still have the key-ring with me. With 53 keys… Well, the faster I start trying keys, the faster I will find the right one.

One by one I start dismissing keys and, fortunately, twenty keys later there is one that makes click. I open the mysterious door and a passageway stands in front of me. Even though the darkness doesn’t let me see much, I am able to discover a convenient torch that lights the darkness. I also take the convenient matches that Turpin makes me carry all the time for when she is in a burning mood.

I light the torch with precaution and I light the darkness of the passageway. Suddenly, I notice that the puddle extends through it as a thin line of blood. 

Without thinking it twice I start following the glistening liquid. The ground is incling the further I go inside. To a point where I need to walk on tiptoes to stop me from stumbling. It takes me a while to arrive at the hypothetical end where only another black wall is waiting for me. Thanks to the torch I am able to find another cylinder lock. Seriously, why would anyone put two doors protecting a passageway? I stick the torch on the ground and I take out the keys for a second time. I try every single one, again, but none of them seem to work. Tired of selecting and eliminating I give up my reasoning and I let my emotions take charge.

-To hell all these bloody doors!

I furiously and repeatedly kick the wall with my leg until this one gives away and falls to the floor. Leaving Mona Lisa’s and Turpin’s tied body in front of me. I should have done that before.

-Turpin!

She is gagged with a piece of cloth, however, she looks way calmer than what I expected her to be. She even raises an eyebrow at me. I run towards her to untie her and pull the cloth out of her mouth.

-So, have you guessed already who the murderer is? -she subsequently asks-

It’s my turn to raise my eyebrow at her.

-Who?

Turpin moves her head and I follow it’s direction. At our right, André’s lifeless body is lying on the floor. Actually, now I realise who that puddle of blood was from.

-Oh my god. Florence!

-Obviously.

-She did all of that?

-Didn’t you see her heels?

-I did see them. They were red, weren’t they?

-They were, but they also had blood stuck to them. The other man’s blood specifically.

-But maybe she stept accidentally on the wet blood.

-I know. But have you looked at the way the blood was spread on the floor? You could not possibly do that with normal shoes. She did that on purpose, I’m confident of it. However, I never thought of Florence, excuse my language, to be such a pig.

-Dear god, you knew all this time? Why didn’t you give me any signal?

-Because it was essential that we acted normal, Ribbot. That 's why.

-And… Do you think she poisoned us? The coffee…

-Of course, really I thought you were cleverer. Except she didn’t poison us exactly, she put us to sleep. I knew we should not have trusted her but I really needed that coffee and, I confess, I wasn’t expecting her to do that.

-Turpin!

-Sorry, sorry, 

-We could have died!

-I already said I’m sorry! Didn’t you hear me?

-”Sights”. Right, what are we going to do now? I asked Florence to call the police. She should be here any moment now. 

-You should not worry Ribbot, Florence would have already killed us if she had wanted to. But she made an effort to keep us alive. Actually, I don’t think she wanted to kill André but the man wouldn’t stop screaming his life out. I was half asleep when she stabbed him in the stomach but even I was annoyed by it.

-The question is, was it really worth killing him for?

-It was -Florence voice scared me from behind-

I turned around as fast as I could.

-You! How could you!

-He was asleep when I entered Mona Lisas’s room to steal the painting, the other man wasn’t, I thought he would be more relaxed when I started to tie him.

-You gave him the extra key, didn’t you?

-I did.

-And you poisoned us!

-Well, not exact-

-You stole the Mona Lisa and you killed two innocent men. What did you do all of this for? Money, revenge?!

-Attention

-Attention?!

-What can I say? I’m an attention seeker. Ever since you two started working together no one has told me I’m clever. I no longer appear in the newspaper. Every solved case seems to be just Tupin’s and Ribbot’s case. People no longer remember I was the one locking bad guys in jail.

-Ribot, get me Florence -Turpin whispered

Not quietly enough it seems, as Florence started running through the passageway. I started running after her right away.

Luckily for me, Florence closed the door I left open and I was able to corner her against it. I leaped Florence, throwing her to the dusty ground. I joined her hands on her back and I carefully searched for any kind of knife she could have used to murder André.

I heard Turpin’s slow steps behind me. She squatted down near us and patted my back.

-Good job -she congratulated me-. Florence, life changes. It’s up to us to play our cards wisely to change the things we dislike. You will soon achieve what you wanted, you will be the star of today’s show. Nevertheless, there won’t be more times like this, as you are going straight to jail.

(musiquita)

This is how Turpin and I solved what people knew as the Louvre's case. Turpin called the police and I was in charge of explaining. They took Florence away and we put Mona Lisa back to the room where she belonged.

Sooner than we realised, we were back in our no-case routine. We were taking a walk near the Arc de Triomphe when Turpin suddenly asked me:

-Do you know who’s Florence's substitute?

-Frankly, I have no idea.

-His name is Gideon Malick. 

-Malick…? “Gasp”

-Dear Ribbot, I think we have a long way to go.

FIN

BY LUCÍA GÓMEZ TURPÍN & MARTA CALDENTEY RIBOT  |  2022/23