Casefile True Crime - Case 71: Elodie Morel
Episode Date: December 16, 2017On May 2 2005, an officer at the Aigues-Mortes police station in Southern France received a phone call from a panicked man who warned, “A guy who just left my place is about to kidnap a girl. He’s... armed, and I think he’s about to do something horrific.” The caller directed police to a nearby cafe and told them to be on the lookout for a man accompanied by an attractive young woman. --- Episode narrated by the Anonymous Host Researched and written by Milly Raso Special thanks to Nicolas Deliez for his assistance For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-71-elodie-morel
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On Monday, May 2nd, 2005, 28-year-old Elodie Morel raided her closet looking for the perfect
outfit.
She settled on skinny jeans, a billowy white shirt, cream-coloured knitted sweater, and
a pair of high heels.
Delicately, she styled her hair and applied makeup, ensuring she looked flawless.
It was a big day for Elodie, the start of a new life, and she wanted to look her best.
A waitress from the port city of Marseille in southern France, Elodie had worked in restaurants
and bars most of her adult life, but she had grown tired of the long nights, unpredictable
work hours, constant shift changes, unruly customers, and low pay.
It was time for a career change.
With an avid interest in fashion, Elodie decided to follow through on her lifelong
dream to become a model.
Others considered her a natural beauty, and modelling was a lucrative business in France.
Considered the ultimate fashion destination, the country's home to iconic fashion houses
such as Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Christian Dior.
However, Elodie had no modelling experience.
She had never even had her photo taken by a professional photographer.
No one influential in the industry knew her.
Despite Paris being over-saturated with unknown models trying to break into the industry,
Elodie was strong-willed and determined to give it a shot.
In April 2005, Elodie created an online profile on a modelling casting site and attached several
candid photos of herself.
Scanning various job websites looking for work, Elodie applied for any opportunity she
could find.
But by late April, she had little success.
Undeterred, she kept applying, and one afternoon, while she sculled down the classified ads
website Viva Street, a new job opportunity popped up on her feed.
Fashion photographer Nicole Forestier, who worked for the reputable photography agency
Dukas, was seeking models to run an advertising campaign for the luxury car Rolls Royce.
With several new cars due for release, Rolls Royce was offering an all-expenses-paid five-day
photo shoot for three models in the Camargue region in the south of France.
The landscape in the Camargue region was the ideal backdrop for the high-end car, with
striking large lagoons circled by reed-covered marshes and a shoreline framing the Mediterranean
Sea.
The photo shoot was scheduled between the 3rd and 7th of May 2005.
Payment was €1,000 per day, plus all expenses paid, including travelling expenses, on-set
catering, all meals, accommodation, and downtime activities.
Additionally, the ad detailed an opportunity for the selected models to travel to the United
States at a later date as ambassadors of Rolls Royce.
It was the job Elodie had been dreaming for.
€5,000 for five days' work was unlike anything she had ever earned before.
Realistically, she knew her chances of getting the job were low.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Competition would be fierce.
Every model in France would be sending through their portfolios for a chance to represent
Rolls Royce, yet Elodie wasn't going to be intimidated by the odds stacked against her.
With her few happy snaps and humble online profile, she applied for the job.
She received an email response within a day.
Anticipating a rejection, Elodie was completely shocked to read.
The Rolls Royce representative chose three models for their advertising, including you.
It seemed too good to be true, but emails back and forth to lead photographer Nicole Forestier
confirmed it.
Elodie had a look they liked and wanted.
Elodie continued corresponding with Nicole Forestier via email leading up to the shoot,
and Forestier's assistant Alain LeCaste called Elodie personally to arrange a meeting.
The meeting was planned for 6pm on May 2nd, the night before the photo shoot started.
Elodie was told to meet Nicole Forestier at the stopover bar in the town of Agmore.
It wasn't far from the Camargue region where the photo shoot was to take place.
The photo shoot was all Elodie talked about at a family gathering days before the trip.
Relatives noticed she was the happiest they had seen in a long time.
The night prior to the meeting with Forestier, Elodie packed a small luggage bag with spare
clothes, shoes and nightwear.
In the early afternoon on May 2nd, 2005, with her favorite outfit on and hair and makeup
perfect, Elodie carried her luggage outside and placed it into the trunk of her black
1995 BMW sedan.
After a long goodbye to her partner, 25-year-old Sylvain Rossin, and a long goodbye to their
4-year-old son, Elodie left for the opportunity of a lifetime.
Getting west into the sprawling French countryside, Elodie drove past the modest limestone mountains
surrounding the Etang de Bairre Lagoon.
Beyond there, she steered around the border of the expensive Camargue wetlands before
moving through plains of sprawling vineyards in Vauvère, where the warm spring air carried
the fruity aroma of ripening grapes.
Elodie was far too excited to slow down and take in the beautiful country scenery.
She didn't want to be late for the meeting with photographer Nicole Forestier and make
a bad first impression.
Elodie might have been inexperienced in modelling, but she carried herself like a professional.
Shortly after 5pm, after about a 2-hour drive, Elodie reached her destination, the small
town of Agneaut on the southern coast of France.
By 700km south of the capital city of Paris, Agneaut is located on flat marshes against
the Mediterranean Sea.
It was built upon relics and features striking 13th century architecture, with the town centre
surrounded by medieval stone wall.
Elodie turned her car into a large parking lot that was packed, and influx of city dwellers
and foreign tourists had flocked to Agneaut.
The day before was May 1st, May Day, and as the national holiday fell on a Sunday, the
scheduled public day off was that day, Monday, May 2nd.
Thousands of visitors had flocked to the small seaside town for the long weekend.
Elodie found an empty spot to park her car.
It was a fair distance away from the stopover bar, so she collected her black leather bag
and began the long walk.
By now the sun hovered low above the horizon, and streetlights began to flicker on.
The stopover bar is a yellow painted building next to the northern entry into the walled
township, directly opposite a canal.
Large boats floated down the wide canal, loaded with tourists on deck watching the sunset.
Local florists wandered the promenade, selling sprigs of the white bell-shaped flower, Lily
of the Valley.
A local symbol of springtime offered between loved ones around May Day as a lucky charm.
Elodie took a seat alone at a table on the front terrace of the stopover bar, exactly
as she had been told to do.
The bar was relatively busy, with people pouring in for dinner and drinks as the sunset.
It was approaching 6pm, and Elodie had no idea what Nicole Forrestier looked like, but
she knew the photographer would be able to recognise her when she arrived.
Minutes later, an older man approached Elodie's table.
He called Elodie by name.
She didn't recognise the man, and she looked at him confused.
He had wrinkled tanned skin, a gap-toothed smile, and short hair.
He introduced himself as Alain Lacaste.
He clicked straight away.
Lacaste was Nicole Forrestier's assistant.
Elodie had spoken to him over the phone several times leading up to the photo shoot, and it
was he who had called her and arranged the meeting at the stopover bar.
Lacaste was apologetic, and explained that Nicole Forrestier was busy preparing for the
photo shoot, and had instructed him to meet Elodie in her place.
Elodie found herself instantly reassured by his friendly demeanor.
Elodie took a seat, and the two began to chat about the photo shoot.
Meanwhile, almost 20km away, the telephone at the Agmort police station rang.
The answering officer listened as a panicked male caller warned.
A guy who just left my place is about to kidnap a girl.
He's armed, and I think he's about to do something horrific.
The caller, 63-year-old Dominic Tarasco, was well known to local police.
A scrap merchant by trade.
At night, Tarasco ran an unlicensed and illegal bar in an old cabin on his country property
outside of Agmort.
Police had threatened to shut down his backyard bar, but Tarasco made them a deal.
He would become a police informant, and give intel on local thugs and crims who visited
his bar, and in return, police would turn a blind eye to his illegal operation.
It was a win-win for both parties.
The deal proved worthwhile for police.
Tarasco's tips had led to several arrests, from car thieves to minor drug traffickers.
However, Tarasco's frantic call on the afternoon of May 2, 2005, was the first time he had
contacted them about a crime as serious as kidnapping.
Tarasco's voice was shaky as he told police about a conversation he had with a friend
at his bar earlier that afternoon.
From their conversation, Tarasco believed that his friend was about to hurt a woman.
He said his friend was violent, and he owned and carried a handgun.
Tarasco nervously rambled on using words like pimping, sex work, and abduction.
Tarasco's history as a trusted police informant gave officers no reason to doubt his claims,
and they wondered if his friend had links to the illegal sex trade.
They pressed him for more information.
They needed names, visual descriptions, who to look for, where to go.
But despite Tarasco's initial willingness to talk, he stopped short of naming his friend
who was planning the kidnapping.
He feared reprisal.
No offers of protection could convince Tarasco to hand over his friend's name.
Whoever he was, he was dangerous enough to scare Tarasco into silence.
Tarasco did offer police the location of where his friend was headed though.
He said he was meeting the unsuspecting woman on the terrace of the stopover bar.
Tarasco also gave police a description of his friend's car, a green 1994 Seat at Beether.
Time was running out.
If this kidnapping was about to take place, police didn't have time to bigger with Tarasco
for information.
More officers split between two cars and headed straight to the stopover bar.
They arrived around 6.15pm.
They kept a low profile, with lights and sirens off, so they didn't alert the kidnapper.
They quickly realised that searching for the unknown suspect and victim along the promenade
was an impossible task.
The area was packed with people enjoying the last night of the long weekend.
There were couples everywhere, and police had absolutely no idea who they were looking
for.
Two of the officers entered the stopover bar.
They purchased the drink each and took a seat together out on the terrace.
They drank and spoke casually, appearing as two off-duty officers grabbing a social drink
after work.
But discreetly, they kept a close watch on the couples around them.
The mood in and around the bar was good-natured.
No women appeared uncomfortable, scared or unsafe.
No one drew their attention.
Meanwhile, the other two officers remained outside the bar.
They kept a lookout for the suspect's car as described by Tarasco.
The green 94 Seat Ibiza.
As one officer kept watch of the passing traffic, the other searched the parking lot.
An hour passed, and neither the car or the suspect couple were spotted.
Police started to wonder if Tarasco had been mistaken.
They called him to confirm what little information they had was correct.
As police confirmed the description of the suspect's green 94 Seat Ibiza, Tarasco felt
his stomach drop.
He had described the wrong car to police.
He said his friend actually drove a grey 1994 Citroen ZX.
Police were frustrated to learn they had been looking for the wrong car the entire time.
After another search of the area, the grey Citroen ZX was nowhere to be seen.
The race against time to save a young woman from her kidnapper came to a sudden halt.
Police were at a dead end.
With Tarasco refusing to give them a name or any more details, there was little else
they could do.
They returned to the station and waited around to see if any local women were reported missing.
But no such calls came in.
Two days later, on the afternoon of Wednesday, May 4th, a 25-year-old man entered a police
station in the city of Marseille, 180km from Agmore.
The man, Sylvain Rossin, was uneasy and visibly anxious.
He hadn't heard from his wife, Elodie Morel, since the night of May 2nd, when she left
home to meet up with a fashion photographer in Agmore.
It was unusual for Elodie not to keep in touch.
They kept in contact every day.
Many messages and unanswered calls later, Sylvain was convinced something bad had happened
to his wife.
The last text he received from her was sent on May 2nd, at 9.30pm, several hours after
she had met with the photographer.
It read, Big kiss, everything is going well, I'll call you tomorrow when I can, hugs
and kisses, talk later.
As police started questioning Sylvain further, they suspected there was more going on with
the married couple than what the man was willing to discuss.
Sylvain explained that they met in 1995.
Elodie shared an apartment with a friend of Sylvain's, and when Sylvain first met her,
he was instantly drawn to her self-reliance and resilience.
They started dating, and by 96, towards the end of the first year of their relationship,
they were married.
In 2000, Elodie fell pregnant, and the couple had a son together.
Motherhood changed Elodie.
She wasn't particularly close to her own mother, who she felt never understood her.
Their strained relationship was a catalyst for Elodie moving out of home at 14 years
old.
When Elodie's son was born, she was determined to raise him in a safe, happy and loving home,
the type of home that she never had.
Police continued probing Sylvain for more information, they felt he was withholding something.
After dancing around the topic for a while, he finally admitted his relationship with
Elodie had deteriorated, and they were in the process of a divorce.
Stresses and disagreements had led to heated arguments, and Elodie foresaw the toxic home
environment she was nurturing her son in was turning out to be the exact type she suffered
through and vowed to never create.
Elodie and Sylvain accepted that their relationship wasn't working, and after a long candid discussion,
they agreed to separate.
Sylvain insisted that their separation was amicable.
According to him, they were now getting along better than ever.
They still had disagreements, but argued much less.
The pair decided it would be best for their son if they continued living together as a
family.
They didn't want him to deal with the trauma of a divorce and being forced to move between
two separate houses at such a young age.
And since things were getting better between them, they believed they could still live
together, even though they weren't a couple anymore.
Sylvain even continued to financially support Elodie, as he worked a full-time office job,
and she only worked part-time at a bar.
When Sylvain found out Elodie had been one of three models chosen to run an advertising
campaign for Rolls Royce, her enthusiasm convinced him their job was legitimate.
But in hindsight, he suspected that the whole thing was an elaborate online scam.
He worried that Elodie had been trapped by a gang who targeted women online and feared
she was being transported across the country, perhaps to be sent abroad as a sex slave.
Police asked Sylvain why he would allow Elodie to meet with a stranger she had met online
by herself.
Sylvain responded that he trusted Elodie.
She was no fool.
It seemed perfectly safe for her to meet a woman in a public place at a reasonable hour.
The last text Elodie sent did not read as though she was in danger.
Marseille police considered more logical explanations for her lack of contact.
Perhaps she was somewhere with no phone reception.
Maybe her mobile phone battery died and she had forgotten to pack a charger.
Or maybe she had lost her phone.
There were a multitude of simple and innocent reasons as to why Sylvain may not have heard
from his ex-wife.
But Sylvain was unconvinced.
Elodie knew his number.
If something had happened to her phone, she would have used someone else's phone to get
in touch.
Marseille police were still doubtful.
They considered there was another, far more realistic explanation for Elodie's disappearance
that Sylvain wouldn't allow himself to contemplate.
Elodie, an unhappy wife, determined to make big changes in her life, may have run off with
another man.
But Sylvain instantly dismissed that suggestion.
He assured police their split was amicable.
Elodie could commence a new relationship without issue from him.
There was no reason for her to run away.
Plus, there was no way she would abandon her son.
Marseille police thought it reasonable to sit on the case for a little longer before
filing a missing persons report.
The situation didn't seem urgent to them.
But Sylvain demanded they do something.
They finally relented and typed up a report detailing a description ability, the sequence
of events leading up to her supposed disappearance and her last known whereabouts.
Once complete, they faxed the report to other police stations across the south of France.
Agamort police were continuing to keep an eye on missing persons reports, in case anything
came in that matched the story they had been given by Dominique Tarasco two days earlier.
Tarasco was still refusing to give the name of his friend he suspected was going to kidnap
a woman from the stopover bar, and no further information had come to light.
But Agamort police kept their eyes open.
When Marseille police faxed through the missing persons report they had taken for Elodie Morrell,
Agamort police immediately fell uneasy.
Elodie's last known location was in Agamort on the night of May 2nd.
She had scheduled a meeting with a stranger at the stopover bar at 6pm that night.
There were striking similarities between the events surrounding the disappearance of
Elodie Morrell and the call they had received from Dominique Tarasco two days earlier about
a potential kidnaping.
Agamort police contacted Sylvain for more information regarding his wife.
As Sylvain explained Elodie's story in detail, it appeared consistent with Tarasco's story.
Police considered the possibility that the two stories were actually one and the same.
Despite growing doubtful of Tarasco's story, now that there was a potential victim, Agamort
police started taking the situation very seriously.
They asked Sylvain to come into the station.
After the nearly two hour drive through dark rural roads between Marseille and Agamort,
Sylvain arrived at the police station around 2am.
He brought photographs of Elodie, pictures of her on their wedding day, pictures holding
their son, cooking in the kitchen with family and lounging around an outdoor patio with
friends.
In each photo she was happy.
Even when she was unaware the camera was on her, she was always smiling.
Sylvain gave police a description of Elodie's black 95 BMW sedan, a copy of the emails between
her and photographer Nicole Forestier, a list of items she had taken with her for her trip
and her mobile phone number.
Elodie's phone was going straight to voicemail, so it was either turned off or destroyed.
However, police were able to go back and track the signals off phone towers to follow her
movements up until the time her phone went off.
As expected, her phone emitted a signal from Agamort on the evening of May 2nd, confirming
she made it to the small town for the meeting.
Afterwards, her phone emitted a signal from Saint-Gilles, about a 30km, half an hour drive
northeast of Agamort.
Saint-Gilles is located on the western edge of the Camargue region.
This showed Elodie was heading in the direction of where the photo shoot was to take place.
Strangely, a short time later, her phone emitted a signal from Vavert.
Vavert is an 18km, 20-minute drive in the opposite direction.
It was shortly after arriving at Vavert that Elodie's mobile phone signal dropped out,
and it hadn't come back up since.
Police felt it would be impossible for them to conduct a thorough search for Elodie in
and around Agamort, Saint-Gilles and Vavert.
It was too big of an area.
Only one person could help them now, Dominique Tarasco.
They called Tarasco and asked him to come into the station.
He arrived at 8.30am on May 5th, and he brought with him a startling story, one that police
found hard to believe.
On the evening of May 2nd, after Tarasco had called Agamort police to report the suspected
kidnapping, he drove into town.
He had dinner and a few drinks to take his mind off things.
Hours later, he drove the long, rural road back to his country property.
In the distant darkness, he noticed flashing red and blue lights.
It was two police cars parked blocking the road.
Several police officers were standing around the vehicles.
Tarasco thought a large-scale operation was in place to search for the kidnapped girl
he had phoned up about that evening.
He pulled his car to the side of the road and got out to see how the search was going.
Even though he had not fully cooperated and kept his friend's name to himself, Tarasco
hoped that they had managed to find his car.
The officers watched as Tarasco approached them.
He was distressed, throwing his arms about, asking what was happening, if they had found
the car, if they had caught him.
The police were perplexed.
They had no idea what he was talking about.
They were just performing routine traffic checks.
Smelling alcohol on Tarasco's breath, they assumed the old man was just drunk and disorientated.
A car slowly approached the roadblock while Tarasco was talking to the officers.
Tarasco recognized the vehicle immediately, a grey 1994 Citroen ZX.
The car his friend drove.
With the police officers distracted by Tarasco, the car was able to slowly maneuver around
the roadblock without being stopped.
Tarasco saw his friend in the driver's seat.
Dredd seeped into his body when he saw who was in the passenger seat.
A woman with long dark hair, eyes closed, her head leaning against the inside of the
door as though she were asleep.
The car passed the roadblock and drove off.
Tarasco started getting more erratic, telling police to go after it and arrest the driver.
But he didn't say why.
Then, Tarasco's mobile phone rang.
He answered.
Tarasco was terrified when he recognized the voice on the other end.
It was his friend, the kidnapper, the one who had just driven past with the woman in
his car.
Had he seen Tarasco on the side of the road speaking with police?
Apparently not.
The friend had only called to warn Tarasco about the police roadblock leading up to his
property.
He told Tarasco to be careful and then hung up.
As Tarasco told this unbelievable series of events to investigators at Act Mort police
station, they sat stumped.
They didn't believe it.
What were the odds that Tarasco approached the roadblock, effectively distracting the
officers?
At the exact same time the kidnapper drove past.
Why didn't Tarasco tell police at the roadblock about the kidnapped girl?
Why was he only telling them this information now?
Three days later.
Tarasco said he had been too frightened, as his friend was a psychopath.
Skeptical, investigators were able to confirm there were routine traffic checks occurring
at the location Tarasco said on the night of May 2nd.
Investigators spoke to the officers who were working in the traffic stop.
And nearly fell over when the officers knew exactly what they were talking about.
They recalled Tarasco approaching them.
He was frantic about something, not making a lot of sense.
He seemed drunk.
A car drove past while they were dealing with him, and he received a call not long after
the car drove past.
Tarasco was telling the truth.
His description of the unconscious woman in the car strongly matched the appearance of
Elodie Morel.
There was no mistaking the driver as being anyone but Tarasco's friend, since he called
Tarasco shortly after the roadblock to warn him about it.
Police were now convinced Tarasco's friend had abducted Elodie Morel, and their patience
had run out.
They demanded a name.
Police threatened Tarasco, stating they would arrest him, he would wind up in prison, and
the girl would die if he didn't give up his friend's name.
Under the intense pressure, Tarasco finally broke.
Crying, he gave them the name, Guillaume Mangor.
49-year-old Guillaume Mangor had a long-sworded criminal history.
In July 1987, he spotted two young female hitchhikers wandering along the side of the
road.
He pulled over and offered them a lift.
The women were tourists from Germany and spoke little French.
But Mangor was friendly.
They trusted him and got in his car.
They had no idea he was intentionally taking them in the opposite direction to where they
wanted to go.
At the end of an isolated dirt property in Camargue, he stopped the car and pointed a
gun at them.
He raped both women throughout the night, before leaving them in the middle of nowhere
and driving off.
A month later, in August, Mangor was again cruising the long rural roads in southern
France near Camargue.
And again, he came across two young female hitchhikers, tourists from Italy.
Like the previous crime, Mangor drove his victims to an isolated area of Camargue before
threatening them with a gun.
When he attempted to rape one of the women, they fought him off and escaped.
In 1988, Mangor was convicted and sentenced to serve eight years imprisonment for his
crimes.
Psychological assessments of Mangor revealed his predisposition to impulsivity and violence,
manipulative and seductive tendencies, narcissism and attraction to weapons.
He lacked vulnerability, guilt, compassion and an ability to take criticism.
Assessments concluded that his antisocial and deviant behaviors were neither curable
or correctable.
After his release, Mangor was soon back in prison for property and firearms offences.
After that stint, he visited an old friend and asked for work, Dominique Terrescoe.
Terrescoe knew Mangor was a violent convicted criminal who made no secret of the fact he
always carried a weapon.
If refused anything, Mangor would erupt in an explosion of violence.
So when he asked Terrescoe for work, the old man felt compelled to agree for his own
safety.
He hired Mangor to work as a bouncer at his backyard bar, where his threatening and violent
behavior could be put to some use.
On the afternoon of May 2nd, 2005, Mangor was at Terrescoe's bar.
The place was quiet, so people recalled seeing him there speaking to Terrescoe.
At 5.30pm, Mangor left.
He bragged he had to honour an appointment to meet a beautiful girl he met online.
They were going to have a date at the stopover bar.
There was something about the way Mangor spoke and the words he used that made Terrescoe
incredibly uncomfortable about the situation.
Knowing Mangor's history and knowing he was carrying a gun, Terrescoe's gut instincts
told him the woman he was meeting was in danger.
The uncomfortable feeling nagged at Terrescoe, and he decided to phone police.
After checking Mangor's criminal history, it was no great leap for investigators to
make him their number one suspect.
However, the investigation was built on the forced testimony of Terrescoe and what could
amount to nothing but a series of coincidences.
They needed concrete proof that Mangor had kidnapped Ellaby.
Investigators visited the stopover bar and questioned staff about Guillaume Mangor.
The bar owners confirmed that Mangor was a regular customer.
Furthermore, two witnesses recalled seeing Mangor at the bar on the night of May 2nd
at 6pm.
They both vividly remembered the night, because Mangor was usually alone.
But on May 2nd, he was in the company of a young woman.
Police had no way to locate Mangor.
He travelled frequently, crashed on other people's couches, and spent long nights in
seedy bars and nightclubs.
He could have been anywhere.
So they created a trap to bring him in.
This made Terrescoe call Mangor and get him to meet up for a few drinks.
Mangor agreed to the meet at La Mexicana nightclub in Montpellier, a 30 minute drive west of
Aguement.
Mangor was familiar with the club, as he previously worked security there.
Police took up hidden positions around the parking lot and waited.
A short time later, a white van rolled in.
Police observed the vehicle, and to their surprise, they confirmed Mangor was in the
passenger seat.
The driver was an unknown older male who looked to be in his 50s.
The van pulled into a parking spot, and its engine clicked off, while officers kept watch.
Wasality in the van.
Mangor exited the vehicle, and police swooped immediately.
He tried to run, but he was tackled to the ground.
The police approached the van, weapons raised.
The older male driver climbed out.
He cooperated and raised his hands in the air.
He identified himself as Richard Lignere, a construction worker who lived in the local
area.
Lignere didn't have a record, he was completely unknown to police.
He said he had no idea what was going on, he was just there for a drink with a friend.
Police formed a circle around the van.
They swung the back doors open and peered into the rear compartment.
It was empty.
There was no sign ofality.
They searched Mangor and found no weapons, just his wallet, mobile phone, car keys, and
a pack of cigarettes.
They flipped through his wallet and found a small amount of money, his ID, and a credit
card in the name of Elodie Morel.
Mangor was quick to explain.
He found the card on a table at the stopover bar a few days earlier.
With no owner in sight, he kept it, with the intention of returning it to the bank the
following day.
But he had forgotten all about it.
In another area of the parking lot, police questioned the driver of the van, Richard Lignere.
Lignere lived in the small town of Vergues with his wife and teenage daughter.
He said Mangor was a longtime friend who had been staying at his home the last few days.
Mangor would often visit the Lignere household during his travels, stay a few nights, and
then move on.
Police were highly suspicious of both men.
Mangor's excuse for being in possession of Elodie's credit card was shaky at best.
Lignere lived in Vergues, an eight-kilometer, 15-minute drive northwest from the town of
Vauvère.
Vauvère was the last known location of Elodie's mobile phone before it was switched off.
Police arrested and handcuffed both men with the intention to take them to the station for
further questioning.
However, they were making a stop on the way.
Richard Lignere's house in Vergues
When police stormed the Lignere home, they were confronted with a scene most would recall
as one of the most bizarre and surreal experiences in their policing career.
Richard Lignere's wife Francine and their teenage daughter were sitting together at
the dining table eating dinner.
When armed groups of police burst into the house, neither Francine nor her teenage daughter
reacted.
Instead, they continued to eat their meal in silence, as though the armed shouting police
officers weren't there at all.
The strange non-reaction of the Lignere women unsettled police.
It was almost as if they were expecting them.
A sinister atmosphere lingered in the quaint family home.
Police carefully searched each room, not knowing what they were walking into.
Still unsettled by the detached non-reaction from the Lignere women, they checked under
beds, in closets, behind hanging clothes, and any other hiding space they could find.
Evidence of Elodie's presence started to appear throughout the home.
A black leather bag, floral dress, two pairs of high heel shoes, and a black sweater were
all items that matched descriptions of clothing Elodie had packed for her trip.
Most telling was a mobile phone found in possession of Lignere's teenage daughter.
It was Elodie's.
They also found a handgun tucked away in a drawer.
The handle was stained with dried blood.
Police arrested the Lignere women as well.
It was approaching 8pm on May 5th when Mangor and the Lignere family arrived at the police
station.
Questioning Mangor proved difficult.
He was a master manipulator, and he stuck solid to his story.
He maintained that he found Elodie's credit card at the stopover bar, and that he didn't
meet or see her there during that time.
This could contradict a lot of his statements with the evidence they already had, but Mangor
didn't budge from his story, so investigators turned their attention to the Lignere family.
But they proved to be a problem as well.
They skirted around questions with flimsy and undetailed answers, denying any knowledge
of Elodie or her whereabouts, despite evidence in their own home suggesting otherwise.
As police chipped away at them, they realised that Richard was the more fragile.
Investigators set their sights on breaking him.
With each passing hour of interrogation, Richard Lignere's anxiety heightened.
Investigators could tell he was on the verge of cracking, and they shifted their tactic
from coddling Richard to confronting him.
I know what you know, an officer screamed.
You know what happened.
As expected, Richard Lignere broke down.
It wasn't him, he told police.
Guillaume Mangor turned up at his house at 6am on the morning of Tuesday, May 3rd, whilst
he and his family were having breakfast.
Mangor stormed inside carrying a gun, and said he needed somewhere to hide.
He had a girl in the trunk of his car, and he wanted to hide her in their garage.
500 metres from the Lignere's home was an isolated garage with a pressed sand floor.
Richard Lignere allowed Mangor to hide in his garage.
He unlocked it, and watched Mangor drive in.
Mangor then asked for cable ties, which Lignere supplied.
Lock the garage on your way out, Mangor ordered.
Lignere did as he was told.
He didn't ask questions.
Lignere walked back to his house, cleaned up, got dressed, and headed into work for the
day.
He was aware of Mangor's criminal history, and knew the man to be violent and dangerous.
However, at no point during the day did he feel compelled to contact police about what
was happening in his garage.
After Richard Lignere spoke to police, his wife Francine started talking as well.
Her version of events were identical to her husband's.
She also detailed a conversation she had with Mangor on the night of Tuesday, May 3rd.
Francine said,
At 6pm, Mangor came back to the house.
He asked for a bottle of water, indicating that the girl was thirsty.
He told me that he had made her sniff the white powder.
I understood that he had drugged her.
Francine Lignere provided Mangor with a plastic bottle full of water.
Like her husband, she made no attempt to contact police.
She was afraid Mangor would hurt her daughter if she did anything to upset him.
Two hours after asking Francine for water, Mangor reappeared at the house wanting dinner.
This time he was carrying various items, a black leather bag, a floral dress, two pairs
of high heel shoes, a black sweater and a mobile phone.
He offered the items to Francine Lignere as a gift.
Francine didn't ask questions.
She accepted the items and handed the mobile phone to her daughter as she needed a new one.
Mangor then started to worry that his prisoner would identify him to police, and it was at
this point he first mentioned killing her.
When Francine asked how he would do it, Mangor wrapped his hands around his neck.
After learning the Ligners had cracked and made a statement to police, Mangor finally
agreed to make a statement of his own.
He admitted to posting a fake casting call online for a photo shoot in the Kamarg region.
He posed as a female photographer named Nicole Forestier and researched enough information
to make the photo shoot appear authentic.
Mangor was surprised when Elodie Morel responded to the phony offer.
He put the blame on Elodie.
He said she should have realized it was a scheme due to the exaggerated nature of the
opportunity.
Mangor claimed to be Forestier's assistant.
He contacted Elodie by phone and convinced her to go to Agmort under the pretense of
meeting Forestier.
Elodie wasn't to know she was actually meeting with a convicted kidnapper and rapist.
When Elodie met Mangor at the stopover bar, he offered to take her on a tour of the countryside
to see the various locations for the photo shoot.
Elodie agreed.
She texted her husband to let him know everything was going well.
As he had done before, Mangor drove his victim down rural roads near Kamarg.
Each turn led further into isolation.
Roads so remote they didn't even have streetlights.
Not a single car passed them.
When he fell to his far enough away, Mangor pulled out his gun.
He demanded Elodie's credit card.
Elodie raised her hands defensively and pushed him away.
It was well known that if refused anything, Mangor would erupt in an explosion of violence.
She made a gesture that I interpreted as an attack, Mangor told police.
I reacted instantly.
He lifted his pistol in the air and with angry violent force, he slammed the gun's handle
down against Elodie's head.
He then slammed her against the passenger side door several times until she stopped fighting.
Elodie handed Mangor her credit card and told him the pin number to go with it.
Then Mangor claims he'll let her go.
He used Elodie's credit card to purchase fuel and cigarettes and to withdraw 140 euros.
These actions were confirmed in bank statements linked to the credit card and security footage
around the ATM where he withdrew the cash.
Mangor denied the linear's version of events involving their garage, captivity, drugs and
threat of strangulation.
According to Mangor, the purpose of his elaborate online scam was simply to steal Elodie's
credit card.
Once he got what he wanted, he let her go.
Police knew Mangor was full of shit, but when threatened, he got extremely defensive and
stuck solid to his story, so investigators took a different approach.
They stroked his ego and made him feel comfortable and free to talk to them.
Slowly, their feigned patience and understanding paid off.
Mangor finally admitted he didn't release Elodie after she gave him her credit card.
His new version was that he took her to the linear's garage to hide out for the day,
as he didn't want to release Elodie until late at night when less people would be out
and about.
Mangor said they smoked cigarettes together in the garage, they chatted and they even
joked around.
Elodie was free to walk around the garage, he didn't tie her up, he didn't touch her.
When night fell, he left the garage with Elodie to take her back to her vehicle.
At some point during the late night drive through the Camargue countryside, Mangor asked
Elodie if she wanted to take over driving.
She accepted, and Mangor pulled over.
As the two walked around the rear of the car to swap places, Elodie bumped into Mangor
and he fell over.
Infuriated, Mangor spotted a thin plastic cord on the ground nearby.
He picked it up and strangled Elodie.
Hours later, Mangor returned to the linear's house and slept on their pull-outs over.
The next day, after a relaxing sleep in, Mangor went out to lunch with the linear's.
When police searched the linear garage, what they discovered created a clearer picture of
what exactly happened to Elodie.
And it was different to what Mangor was telling them.
They collected 23 cigarette butts scattered throughout the garage.
This proved that 19 of them had been smoked by Mangor and 4 by Elodie.
Although Mangor denied tying Elodie during her captivity, broken cable ties were found
with both his and her DNA on them.
There were traces of Elodie's blood on the ground.
Parked outside, near the garage entrance, was Mangor's grey Citroen ZX.
Elodie's blood was found on the inside passenger door, as was a plastic packet filled with
white powder.
Analysis of the powder revealed it was a mixture of four different types of sedatives
that had been crushed together.
Mangor denied that he sexually assaulted Elodie.
However, the forensic evidence proved otherwise.
Friday, May 6, was supposed to be the final day of the Rolls Royce photoshoot.
Instead, Mangor was finishing up his statement to police, detailing where he had left Elodie.
Several police cars pulled into the car park of the Agmort Cemetery.
They separated and slowly weaved through the rows of parked cars.
Parked against a low hedge between a white Range Rover and a red Hatchback was a black
1995 BMW sedan.
The number plate confirmed it was Elodie Morel's car.
The interior was empty.
They lifted the rear hood and found Elodie.
A post-mortem confirmed she died by strangulation.
Guillaume Mangor was charged with abduction, rape and murder.
Richard and Francine Lignere were charged with complicity in kidnapping, failure to disclose
a crime to authorities and murder.
The trials commenced in January 2008.
In an outrageous display in court, Mangor labelled Richard Lignere as Elodie's killer.
Despite confessing earlier to strangling Elodie, he now denied responsibility.
He claimed Richard Lignere was the one who strangled Elodie and did so in the garage.
According to Mangor, Lignere ordered him to dispose of Elodie's body.
Mangor further insulted Elodie and her loved ones when he claimed to the court that he
had fallen in love with her and would never do anything to hurt her.
No one was buying his liars and in February 2008 he was convicted and sentenced to life
imprisonment.
He appealed his sentence in July that year and he succeeded.
He got his sentence lowered to a maximum of 30 years with a 20-year minimum.
Richard and Francine Lignere were each sentenced to six years imprisonment for their complicity
in the crime.
They also appealed their sentences.
Not only were they unsuccessful, they actually got a long term.
Eight years.
The Advocate General stated, quote,
The death of Elodie was the meeting between a monster of inhumanity and two monsters of
selfishness.
Sylvain Rozin was overwhelmed with a mix of emotions.
He grieved privately for the death of Elodie and has never spoken publicly about it.
Elodie's main priority in life was to ensure their son lived in a safe and happy home environment
and Sylvain was going to do everything he could to make that happen.
Dominique Tarasco, who made the initial call to police regarding the kidnapping that resulted
in Elodie's murder, understands that his refusal to name Guillaume Mangueau to police
at the beginning jeopardized authority's efforts in locating and saving Elodie.
I do still have regrets, Tarasco admits.
I tell myself I could have saved this girl because I knew enough, but I don't know.
I screwed up.
He was never charged.
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