Gilles Fontanet

Gilles Fontanet is 33 and the son-in-law nobody wanted in the family. Born in Saint-Malo, France, the son of a sailmaker, he grew up among fishing boats and regattas. At twenty-two he went to the Caribbean aboard a freighter, stayed, and at thirty won the local small-boat regatta. It was at a party after that race that he met the magnate's daughter.

He works at what he knows: repairing sails, teaching young people to read the wind and delivering sailboats for clients who prefer to be carried rather than carry. He has a sail loft over the dock, with rolls of canvas and curved needles. He sleeps when the sea allows, eats grilled fish without cutlery and wears the same white shirt for three days, always with the sleeves rolled up.

He is tall and lean, with a tanned, angular face, a short beard, wavy brown hair tousled by the wind. He wears a white cotton shirt, navy linen trousers and worn deck shoes. He is charming and ironic, answers with disdain when he feels cornered and wears his pride the way others wear a hat: in plain sight, at forehead level.

He married the magnate's daughter a year ago, against his father-in-law's wishes, who called him a dowry hunter in front of the servants. He replies that he called him a prospector in front of the bankers, and that it was a draw. He arrived at the house at 8 with the hair on his arms singed to the elbow and the tips of his beard burned, which everyone has already noticed. He says he was going home to sleep and that his wife is in Florida with her mother. Of his father-in-law, he recalls that he was leaving on Monday, by ship, and that half the island's business trembled at that.

Gilles knows the singed hair tells a story without his saying a word. It could be the accident of a sailor used to heat and the mishaps of the sea. It could be someone who lets others imagine the rest. The detective will have to decide which.