A Failed Investigation, A Killer at Large: The Chevaline Massacre

Hello,

This is my first blog, and I cannot say whether my modest accounts will resonate with anyone.

My life is dedicated to the meticulous examination of enigmas, primarily criminal ones. Cold cases make up the bulk of my work, though certain contemporary affairs sometimes demand my attention, and far more "physical" investigations.

Today, I present to you an excerpt from my personal journal, in which I delve into a minor case out of sheer boredom. Originally, these notes were never meant to be shared, but since they exist, they might as well be given a second life.

Happy reading to those who may find this interesting.

Oh, and if it’s not obvious, sensitive souls, beware. My descriptions can be quite raw.

Excerpt from My Journal

November 18, 2024

A week of absolute emptiness. No mysteries, no intriguing cases, just an old woman lost in the woods. Nothing. Until today. Or so I thought.

A case from 2012. A quadruple murder, thousands of investigators, theories piling up, yet officially abandoned due to a lack of solid evidence. Oh, of course, I would have preferred a fresh, thrilling case. I enjoy roaming around Nancy and the surrounding cities. But we must work with what we’re given. And at first, this case seemed fascinating. It no longer is. It’s simple.

After four hours spent staring at my wall like some great philosopher contemplating the abyss of boredom, I decided to write these lines, a meager consolation for a mind as ravenous as mine.

A forest. A path, known but discreet enough to avoid crowds. There, a car is found. A right-hand-drive British vehicle. Three bodies inside, a cyclist lying nearby, a little girl injured but alive, and finally, a young child hidden beneath her mother’s lifeless body.

Do you see it? Intrigued already? So was I. At first.

Let’s go over it again. The family, father, mother, grandmother, and two children, was in the car. Parked in an open space, about to leave. Meanwhile, a cyclist passes by. Nothing extraordinary so far. But then, a methodical, organized killer enters the scene, contrary to what many police officers seem to think.

Reconstruction:
The killer emerges from the forest. The first gunshots, aimed directly at the driver’s window. The father instinctively recoils, a human reaction, but futile, and multiple bullets pierce the windshield. The car begins a chaotic half-turn, tires screeching, before getting stuck on the other side of the clearing. The father is already motionless.

The killer advances. Fires again at the father, to be sure. Then he turns to the two women inside, the mother, the grandmother. Quick, precise. The action is mechanical, without hesitation. Two bullets to each head.

The cyclist, an unfortunate witness, becomes the next target. On the ground, wounded, knocked down by the car during its turn. Seven bullets, magazines only hold eight, he was the last victim, given the methodology.

And then, the children. One, shot in the shoulder, tries to flee. The killer catches up to her in seconds, strikes her with the butt of the gun. Not fatal. Spared, for an unknown reason. The other, younger, remains hidden under her mother. Unseen, or ignored.

"Shell casings everywhere—not the work of a professional."
"Blah blah, ex-military, old weapon, blah blah."

Really? This is the level of analysis the police stop at? They had five times more evidence than I did, yet it seems they left their brains at the coat check. Honestly, an IQ test should be mandatory before joining the force. But I digress.

Two rational hypotheses:

1. A hired killer.
2. A mad murderer.

Tell me, how many mad murderers meticulously plan an entire family’s execution in the woods, in broad daylight, only to spare a wounded little girl and then vanish without a trace? Not many? Thought so.

Ah, but maybe it was an ex-military man, or an unhinged gun collector? Fascinating! This type of killer, of course, loves to conserve bullets in the middle of a rampage, so much so that he decides to spare a child. Because yes, according to our brilliant investigators, the bullet in the girl's shoulder could have been his last… That’s why he left.

Or maybe he spared her by accident? Sure. A man who shoots an already-dead father in the head, who empties seven bullets into a cyclist already on the ground, would simply overlook a breathing, whimpering child beneath her mother? Brilliant reasoning. No, let’s be serious.

This has the markings of a contract killing.

A methodical massacre. A targeted family. Unusual weapons.

The shell casings left at the scene? You say it’s unprofessional? I say it’s deliberate. A carefully planted false lead. An experienced killer can obtain an unregistered weapon, and manipulate the crime scene accordingly. And guess what? It worked.

The weapon, a Swiss military relic, isn’t common in France. But we’re near the Swiss border, a detail the police treated with shocking indifference. Your firearm registries won’t help you here, dear detectives. Do you really think a British hitman, because yes, the British car seen at the scene is a crucial clue, would be in your records? Come on now.

And isn’t it funny that a known French hitman just so happens to own the exact same weapon? That would make it much easier to obtain than the authorities are willing to admit…

The killer knew their car. He knew where they were vacationing. He waited for his moment. The family gets into the vehicle, and within minutes, bang. The car becomes their tomb.

"Not professional?" Oh, but it is. Very.

And the British element? Why use this particular weapon? A professional doesn’t transport a gun across international borders—it’s too risky. He procures one locally. And what’s the perfect weapon to throw off incompetent investigators near the Swiss border? Jackpot.

Now, let’s ask the real question: why?

Who wanted this family dead? Someone who knew their car, their vacation plans.

The motive takes shape through the father’s life: conflicts, tensions, a story of inheritance. Eleven months before the murders, he violently cut ties with his brother. Changed the locks on his home. Installed an alarm system. Paranoia? Perhaps. But justified.

And the children? Spared. Why? Because they were still family to the person who ordered the hit. Yes, it may seem strange, but to a twisted mind, it makes perfect sense. The uncle wanted his brother dead, but not his nieces. Killing family complicates things emotionally.

As for this uncle, his behavior is… interesting. No, I didn’t cross the Channel to interrogate him for such a ridiculous case (and frankly, I couldn’t be bothered). But I did read a few of his writings: an excessive confidence, subtly masked signs of stress and panic, all in a linear, methodical manner. Normally, that kind of response comes much later.

A contract killing.
A family feud.
A British hitman using a Swiss weapon, deliberately traceable to mislead investigators.
And a police force as incompetent as ever.