It's been way too long since the last
Hessfog PI story, way too long...
So, here's the remedy, a story with an illustration from his youth, his first case actually.
This happened in 1985 in the South of France, close to the city of Marseille.
Hessfog was a young man at the time, and was confronted with gruesome murders.
What happened and how he dealt with that is told in the text below, as well as in the downloadable booklet in the link at the bottom of the post, in English and in French.
There is very little to add, but to let you know than more stories will be available shortly, the next one occurred in Istanbul, during
The Turkish Years, as Hessfog himself call this part of his life.
And now, set yourself confortable, get a cup of coffee, and enjoy
The Mystery of the Tiger of the Holy Baume.
La version française peut-être téléchargée en bas de la page.
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| The Mystery of the Tiger of the Holy Baume - Hessfog private Investigator |
The Mystery of the Tiger of the Holy Baume
(NDLR - This story was told by Hessfog in French and translated in English by the same protagonist. This version is different from the original french version, but true to the spirit Hessfog was trying to express. Serge Foglio - Illustrator & Editor)
A few weeks ago, while working on a new case, I found myself studying some maps from the south of France, more precisely, from the area around Marseille, the city where I was born.
We can find, stuck in between Riboux, Mazaugues, Nans Les Pins, St Zacharie and Gemenos, a massif surrounded by a luxuriant forest, called The Massif of the Holy Baume.
While reading those names I thought I had forgotten, even though they were so deeply anchored, a wave of memories overwhelmed me…
Memories from the past, memories that made me feel old.
Images, sounds, voices, everything came back at once, a real tsunami…
I sat down and caught my breath.
From the window, I could see the blue sky of Victoria, stained with black crows and gray seagulls.
- “Everything seems so quiet.” I said out loud.
I closed my eyes, and, this time, deliberately thought of the Holy Baume, when I had lived there, so long ago, when Raspberry Beret and Every time You Go Away played non-stop on the radio waves.
Once again, my memories became present. Everything became clear, my first case as a private investigator, the bloody event of the Holy Baume, the people involved, the outcome, and of course, the "monster".
I opened my eyes and grabbed the phone. I dialled the number of the guy with whom I had already worked on the comic strip, Foglio, the illustrator.
He’s a good guy… I think…
He picked up the phone and said
- “Hello, Serge Foglio speaking…
- Hi Foglio, Hessfog here. Listen, I just remembered an old story, a case that I dealt with when I was only 18 years, my first one in fact. I was wondering if you'd be interested in hearing it? Perhaps you could write a story, or at least make a drawing out of it, what do you think?
- Absolutely, I think it is an excellent idea. Where do you want to meet so we can talk about it?
- Nowhere, I had in mind to tell you everything immediately, on the phone. I'll tell you the story while it’s still warm in my mind, et voilà, done deal!
- Oh, ok. he answered, let me grab something to take notes, and I’m all yours. Just a minute…”
A minute went by and he came back on the phone.
- “Ok, I just put you on speakers, go ahead when you’re ready.”
And so, I started…
“It was in 1985, I believe. I was about 18 years old, I just got my licence to become a PI, and had no bloody furniture in that dump I was renting as an office / apartment in the Vauban heights.
Through a friend of my mother, a pious woman named Jocelyne, I got my first case. One must add that I had made an offer that couldn’t be declined. Anyhow, Jocelyne and I met a Friar, Dominican I believe, his name being Brother Simon, who told us a very strange story…
It had been barely a week since the events had begun. Two bodies had been found horribly mutilated in the Massif of the Holy Baume, near the cave of St. Mary Magdalene.
But let me make a parenthesis here, just to situate yourself geographically and also, somehow, historically.
The Massif of the Holy Baume, or in provençal occitan, the Santa Bauma, is located twenty kilometers from the Mediterranean coast, near the large cities of Marseille and Aix-en-Provence. It is the most extensive and highest massif Provencal. 35 kilometers long and 15 kilometers wide, it has a long line of peaks, with the Yoke of the Eagle and the peak Bertagne, a majestic rocky outcrop overlooking the western side of the massif. All bathed in a forest of beech, oak and Scottish pine forest.
The story says that the name comes from the presence of a massive cave that, in the Christian tradition, was occupied by St. Mary Magdalene for thirty years, after landing at the Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer during the first century. Since then, the cave became a holy place, so to speak, and a succession of dignitaries of all kinds made their pilgrimages there, and have built with more or less a success, different places of worship.
At that time, there was still the crypt in the cave, and some buildings built on the flank of the massif into the cliff.
End of parenthesis.
And so, Brother Simon, with a velvet voice, but anxious eyes, told us that he was living in the mountainside buildings, near the cave of Mary Magdalene, with some other Brothers, and that, seven days ago, one of the brothers discovered in the forest, the mutilated body of a hiker, different parts of which seemed to have been torn off. The Brothers warned the police, and an investigation was opened. The body was found just a few minutes walk from the houses, down a set of insane stairs.
Four days later, it was the turn of Brother Simon to discover another body, this time a woman who could not be identified. Similarly to the previous corpse, hers was missing parts of the body, but also wore huge lacerations brands.
A second investigation was started, the police invaded the premises for a while, and then disappeared again, and it was recommended to the Brothers to be very careful and avoid venturing too far until further notice…
When they learned about my offer by the contact of Jocelyne, they wanted to meet me and hired me on the spot.
How the mystery was solved, the discovery of a secret passage in the cave leading to a large network of underground rivers, the shenanigans of a promoter and his murderous assistant, the spiritual and other harm done to Brothers and some people involved are not what I want to talk about today. Maybe another time…
What I want, what I need to tell, is a very special memory. That night when I finally met with the "monster"…
It had been maybe three days since I had started on the case, I spoke to the police, interviewed all the Brothers and the locals, had walked, despite the ban, in the woods, and even if I had a clearer idea of what had happened, I was also in a cul de sac. In other words, my investigation was going nowhere ...
I had spent the day at the monastery, rummaging right and left, without success.
A couple of British backpackers, a man and his companion, had appeared in the late morning, defying the ban, and since they were there now, had decided to spend a few nights at the monastery with the Brothers.
I came home with a bitter taste in the mouth, a taste of failure…
At about five o’clock in the afternoon, while I had been back for an hour top, my phone rang. It was one of the Brothers who called me to tell me they had heard roaring in the nearby forest. I asked him to repeat, and he did. I then asked him to clarify the term roars, and he said:
- “It was like ... Like a lion or a leopard, as in African films.”
He paused.
After a few seconds of silence, I added:
- "Ok, I'm coming. Give me an hour and I'll be there.”
I took a jacket, my all-new Browning-1911-22, put the key in the ignition of the Peugeot 504 Coupe, and started.
The chain of the Holy Baume is about 50 km from Marseille, with my temperamental jalopy it took me about an hour to get to the path leading to the monastery.
I parked the car and I was back on the path which I was beginning to get tired of.
It was now 6:30 pm, and the light was beginning to decline. A strange mystical aura enveloped the woods, and I found myself startled more than once. When I arrived down the steps to the monastery, I sat on a stone, lit a cigarette and listened to the night noises. All was quiet…
Then I began the painful climb of 150 steps, regularly lined with statuesque calvary.
The night was falling.
I moved faster.
No sooner had I reached the last steps, that a woman's scream invaded the silence.
It came from the cave, or at least from that direction ...
I rushed headlong to this dreadful cry which had not ceased. On the contrary, it had increased and seemed to come towards me.
A few seconds later I was in the front of the cave. The young English woman had just come out of it, eyes bulging with terror, her cries as loud as ever in the yearly dusk, running towards me.
She passed in front of me as if I did not exist, as if she did not see me, and continued to run on the path I had taken a few minutes ago.
One thing struck me more than anything at that moment. The young woman was covered in blood stains, apparently. But the image that I have never been able to forget is the stain on her forehead, the red dot on her white skin, and her eyes, out of their orbits by a nameless fear…
At that time, I had reached the steps of the crypt, its door wide open, offering a gaping black hole.
Behind me, the hysterical cries were receding very quickly.
Then everything went very fast.
While I could still feel the presence of the young woman at my back, the "monster" came out of the shadows by the front door, like a majestic colossus.
It was a tiger, in all its splendour!
He seemed huge, covered in blood and had an aggressive demeanour.
I stopped, down the steps, paralyzed more than surprised, my Browning, that I had taken out after the first yell, stiff in my hand.
The "monster" stopped, turned towards me, and staring into my eyes, let out a terrifying roar.
For a second that seemed like a century, time stopped. We were facing each other, in the wonderful evening of the Holy Baume ...
The cries from the young English doubled and pulled me out of my paralysis.
They seemed to have awakened the tiger at the same time.
I fired a warning shot into the sky.
The detonation resounded in the square, sending echoes down the valley.
The "monster" fled inside the cave and disappeared into the shadows, but not before launching a last piercing look.
I then found myself faced with two alternatives:
Chasing the tiger, or pursuing the young person to make sure she wasn’t seriously injured.
I chose the second solution, probably because of my lack of experience, or perhaps it can be attributed to my youth…
I ran down the stairs two by two, holding my breath, still shaken by what I had just seen.
In less time than it takes to write it, the young woman was in my line of sight. She ran again, but I gained on her. After a few more minutes, we were together.
I tried to calm her, somehow, and made her sit on the edge of the trail.
She had an insane expression, her eyes still haggard, bulging, her face covered with tears and blood. She couldn’t manage to speak nor could she catch her breath.
Despite the countless spots of blood she wore on her skin and clothes, she didn’t seem injured.
She kept on saying:
- “Oh my god, oh my god, this is not possible…”
Then, as I pressed her to tell me what had happened, she stammered between sobs:
(NDLR - She communicated with Hessfog in English, her original language)
- “William and I decided to go and pray in the cave. The afternoon drew to a close, and we felt a bit of a melancholy. We made our way to the cave, hand in hand. Inside it was dark and damp. I remember William shivered, touched my shoulder and said he was looking forward to being in bed…”
She stopped and sobbed again.
Suddenly, new cries echoed through the night, coming once again, from the direction of the cave.
We froze on site.
I grabbed her shoulders and said in the poorest possible English:
- “Tell me what happened immediately, I have to get back up there now! "
She looked at me with her face bruised and continued:
- "Well, we sat in the cave, on the benches, and prayed. Suddenly William touched my arm and said:
- "My dear, do you see a shadow moving in the corner there?"
Indeed, a large shadow seemed to cover another one on the floor. William got up and approached it.
Then I do not know what happened. I saw the shadow fall upon William, and a jaw suddenly snatch part of his face. Blood flew all around, and the two bodies collapsed on the floor ... This is where I clearly saw that the shadow that had thrown itself on William was actually a tiger. A tiger that had started to devour the body of my William, ignoring me as if I had not been there.
I began to scream and run away towards the exit.
I believe that the "monster" followed me. Then I started running down stairs and you caught me ... "
She paused and took her head in her hands and sobbed again.
I tried in vain to persuade her to come back with me to the cave, especially after the new cries we heard, but nothing helped. She stood on the edge of the trail where I had asked her to sit, and I returned to the cave, running as fast as possible.
The cries were launched by the Brothers who had discovered the body of William, and the one of Brother Simon a little further, the first victim of the night.
As for him, the tiger, he simply evaporated, he had simply vanished without trace.
The police were contacted again. The monastery closed until further notice, the press joined in, politicians too, and the young English woman returned to England alone…
Only after having used the methods developed by Phil Hines and Aleister Crowley did I discover the secret passage in the cave, the multiple humid passages, the murderers and the "monster". All this, of course, with the help of the police.
The culprits had good reason to terrorize the region, and used the tiger in this as an accomplice.
They ended up in jail, at the famous Baumettes, and I solved my first case.”
I put the telephone receiver on my shoulder and lit a cigarette.
I had been talking for a while.
Outside, the sky was still blue.
- “So what do you think? I said.
- Hmmmm, that's as bloody story! You had never mentioned it before!?
- Yes, that's right. I had not thought about it in years.
- Well, I have a lot of images in mind, I will see what I can do with it, but one thing is certain, I am interested!
- Excellent! Well, let’s call it a day then, we'll talk about it later, over a glass of Scotch maybe... Good day Foglio, and see you soon.
- Well, OK! Thanks again for the story, I'm sure I'll get something out of it. Have a good day.”
I was about to hang up when something else came to mind.
- "Oh, Foglio, one minute, something came back to me. You know, when we captured the criminals, the police and I, we also captured the tiger. It wasn’t really his fault after all, he was just lost in an unknown environment. The authorities tried to give him to the zoo of Marseille, but it was going to close two years later and had already encountered serious financial problems. They could not afford to accept. Then, several other zoo were contacted, but the fact that the tiger had killed and tasted human flesh, made all negotiations impossible.
In the end, they killed him with a shot between the eyes.
That's all…
Ok, good bye Foglio, and once again, have a nice day.”
This conversation took place in May 2015 in Victoria BC.
History by Hessfog - Illustration, Traduction by Hessfog and Transcript by Serge Foglio
Ou, pour la version française, cliquez sur le lien en dessous pour télécharger le document
This said, enjoy the story, don't hesitate contacting me if you have any inquiries whatsoever, my new email address being
illustrator@sergefoglioillustration.com
And take care of yourself.
Sincerely,
Serge
25th August 2015
ps: special thanks to the editors, MH & S Crétat for the french version, D Chicano for the english one.
