by Joost Bruins
Mme Cocquette confesses scandalous murder!
Read the UNCENSORED transcript of Mme Cocquette’s SHAMELESS confession of her BRUTAL murder of POOR ILL Lord Huntley in today’s Aberdeen Chronicle!
Dear Chief Constable Goodwin Summer,
I know what the people in Aberdeen say about me!
If I were to believe the Aberdeen Chronicle, I have led a most scandalous life! Without a shadow of a doubt, the whole of Aberdeenshire will declare me guilty of the gruesome death of my benefactor, Lord Huntley.
Please allow me to spell out tomorrow’s main article. The Aberdeen Chronicle’s narrow- minded journalists can just copy me, without thinking for themselves — they are incapable of that anyway.
‘OUR LORD Huntley is seriously ill, as we all know, poor fellow. Enter Madame Cocquette! She takes care of all Lord Huntley’s needs — mind that ‘all’ — so that he cannot but bequeath Huntley Castle and his vast fortune to her.
But hey, he refuses to die! And so Madame Coquette’s ‘caring’ nature comes to the rescue. She helps fate along!
But the same bad personality trait that drove her infamous behaviour in Monaco to scandalous heights, brings her down in Aberdeen! Arrogance! She didn’t even bother to wash the blood off her hands!
So into the dungeons with that horrific creature!’
My dear Chief Constable Goodwin Summer, that’s what the Aberdeen Chronicle will write tomorrow. I’d put money on it!
Please allow me to tell you my story! The real story!
For that I ask you, no, I beg you to forget everything you think you know about me. And listen to what really brought me here to Huntley Castle, for it was love!
Yes, I am the black sheep in the family! I won’t deny that! And why? I’ll tell you why. It is because I wanted to live!
All the Grimaldis have stepped into the same deadly trap of chasing money and chasing status! Take my skinny and spindly mother and sister. Alive they were already dead!
Noblesse oblige, as my mother said, well my my!
I was young! One life was all I had! I wanted to express myself and that is what I did! And was that selfish?
True, I have wasted my part of the family fortune. I wasted it as fast as I could! In the casinos, on champagne, but mind you, I also donated vast amounts to the poor in the beloved village of my youth, Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat!
The same with men. True! As a woman, I had so much love to give. And yes, also of the carnal kind! I had more than one husband, but mind you, never more than one at the same time!
All of them were grateful! All my men! The poor of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat! I’m not making this up! No-one has ever blamed me! No-one, except for my own family, most notably my mother and my sister. Real Grimaldis to the bone.
They had me kidnapped and locked up here in Aberdeen. To avoid worse, they said, but what could be worse than to live the life they were living? Where did their self-control get them? To the cimetière of Monaco! All Grimaldis rest among the worms!
And that I did not perish here in this incredibly narrow-minded Aberdeen is entirely due to the support and love, yes love!, of Lord Huntley, God bless his soul!
He was my sixth and last and most dear husband. I gave him everything a man needs, even at his age. Of course I knew he was ill! Everybody in Aberdeen knew that! But is that a justification for lovelessness? And aren’t we all ill, in one way or another? Death can come and grab us, every moment!
So when Lord Huntley’s suffering became unbearable, he asked me this one last terrible favour. We discussed all the details together and in the end he was completely sure of himself.
His whole life he had been fighting for the advance of Aberdeenshire, as you all know. He wanted to die in the armour, preferably on the battlefield, his greatest fantasy as a young man.
And so. My goodness. Bear with me. There I stood.
I, Madame Coquette, a woman way too radical for this narrow-minded time and these narrow-minded people.
I trembled, I am not making this up!
After a very last embrace, I have fulfilled the Lord’s last wish, at the expense of myself, as I am fully aware.
But the warmth that Lord Huntley provided me reminds me of the Mediterranean summers of my youth, when I was sitting on the shore of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.
And that same warmth will continue to warm me in the dark dungeon where I will spend the last years of my life. A life lived well!
You can arrest me now.
Written for the Achill Writer’s group
by Joost Bruins