Montreux is very quiet, in this off-season, where faux fur plaids lie next to the first ice creams on the terrace. On the quays of the small Swiss town, a biblical kiosk makes a discreet space among the multi-star hotels and strollers photographing a lover, a tree, a dog. As is so often the case, on the shores of Lake Geneva, it all comes down to the background.
Behind the statue of Freddie Mercury, Rue du Casino has also regained its calm. An engine suddenly hums, with the cheekbones of its prestigious brand. Without him we almost missed this humble tribute at the foot of the first palm tree. A passer-by shakes her head at the stuffed elephant lying there, accompanied by a few flowers and candles. ” What a shame. “ On Thursday, March 24, five people, including two children, fell from a seventh floor balcony. A fall of more than twenty meters, right in front of the casino. Only the teenager survived. Tuesday March 29 he was still in a coma.
The thesis of collective suicide is now favored by investigators. According to witnesses, early in the morning the five members of this French family jumped within five minutes of each other. The mother and her 41-year-old twin sister, the 40-year-old father, the 15-year-old boy and the 8-year-old girl. A stepladder was found on the balcony. Not a hint of a fight or a scream heard, and no one else in the apartment. What happened in this family cam in the heart of Montreux?
On the seventh and last floor of the survivors’ building, the seals still indicate that the police were there. She left the small wooden decoration hanging on the peephole, on which we can read an inscription: “Jesus Is the Reason for the Season”. Behind this door, number 72, five rooms full of supplies of food and medicine were discovered. A “impressive inventory”, “very organized” and “to make it possible to face a great crisis”This is described by the Vaud police in a media release published on Tuesday “Since the beginning of the pandemic, the family has been very interested in conspiracy and survival theses.”
The neighbors next door remember the packages that arrived almost every day without anyone bothering to open them at the postman. He ended up putting them on the doormat, and the neighbors could see stacks of leeks, books, toilet paper galore… before a hand tucked them back inside. “In There They Piled The War”, says a pensioner on the adjoining staircase. On the lower floors, the same discourse spreads about this rarely crossed family that lived “in isolation” and avoided any discussion. No one really knew her or can describe her accurately. Except for the cane that the mother had been leaning on lately, or the shorts that the father wore at all times of the year. And that lingering smell of incense, especially in the three days leading up to that famous Thursday.
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