Everyone watched as Delsaire stared hard at the object. Then he stepped forward with a large wrench, and without warning, gave the hexagon nut a resounding thwack.

In spite of his doubts about the object being a bomb, Rocco felt his testicles shrink and witnessed fleeting images of his past life go by at speed. A collective groan testified to others sharing this same life-death experience. Even the mad bomb-basher, Didier, looked fleetingly alarmed, while Thierry crossed himself and muttered something obscene.

The newcomer struck the object again. But instead of the expected flash and monumental explosion that should have sent Poissons-les-Marais into orbit like a space rocket, the nut simply fell off, and out onto the grass glugged a stream of rust-coloured water.

Delsaire smiled and tossed the wrench into his tool bag.

‘Water container,’ he said simply. ‘A prototype. Only seen a couple of them in my time. The design never caught on.’ He pointed to where the water was bubbling out. ‘With only one hole you can’t get a steady flow, see? Probably fell off a lorry and got buried.’

As Delsaire walked away, whistling, Didier glared around, daring anyone to say a word. Then he calmly scuttled forward and claimed the container as his property.

The crowd left him to it, some looking almost disappointed that a discarded water tank wasn’t about to reduce them and their village to microscopic dust particles.

Rocco was about to return to his car when Claude stopped him.

‘So what’s a city detective doing out here?’ he asked. ‘We’re just a pimple on a cow’s arse. It’s not like there’s any real crime — nobody’s got anything worth stealing. And certainly nothing to trouble an inspecteur.’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Rocco truthfully. ‘They haven’t told me.’ Captain Santer, his boss, had merely presented him with his new orders, an accommodation warrant and directions, and told him to go and investigate cowpats until further notice. All part of a new nationwide initiative, he had explained vaguely, a small grinding of a very large wheel in the Fifth Republic’s efforts to modernise its police force. So far, Rocco judged, going by what he’d seen, as initiatives went, it was a case of wait and see.