"Off she goes to the maternity clinic and explains what's on her mind. She's greeted with icy suspicion. But Fabienne is a hard woman and not one to let herself be easily intimidated. She insults the doctors, she calls them baby snatchers and says she'll be back. Rene Sertys presumably witnesses this scene and senses danger. But Fabienne is already long gone. She's decided to go and see the university family who are supposed to be the second twin's parents. Her usurpers. She cycles off with Judith toward the campus.
"Then, suddenly, terror strikes. As night begins to fall, a car tries to run them down. Fabienne and her daughter roll down into a ditch on the side of the rock face. Hidden in the ravine, with her child in her arms, she sees the killers. Two men, holding guns, leap out of their car. Horrified, Fabienne wonders what is going on. Why this sudden outbreak of violence?
"The murderers finally give up their search and leave, presumably under the impression that mother and daughter have fallen to their deaths. That night, Fabienne goes and sees her husband, who still lodges in Taverlay during the week. She explains what has happened. She thinks they absolutely must tell the police. But Sylvain disagrees. He wants to get the bastards who tried to kill his wife and daughter himself.
"He takes a gun, gets on his bike and goes down into the valley, where he comes up against the killers much more quickly than he would have liked. They're still out on the prowl, spot him on the road and run him down. They drive over the body several times, then make their escape. Meanwhile, Fabienne has taken refuge in Taverlay church. She waits for Sylvain all night. The next morning, she learns that her husband has been killed by a hit-and-run driver. She immediately realises that her children have been victims of some sort of manipulation and that the men who eliminated her husband will also do away with her if she doesn't disappear at once.
"She and her daughter go into hiding.
"You know the rest. How the mother and daughter holed up in Sarzac, over one hundred and eighty miles away from Guernon. How they fled again when Etienne Caillois and René Sertys came looking for them. Fabienne's attempts to wipe out all trace of her child, convinced that she was the victim of a curse, then the car accident in which Judith finally died.
"Since that time, the mother has lived a life of prayer. Several possible explanations occurred to her. But her main hypothesis was that her second twin's adopted parents, a powerful and evil university family, had organised this whole plot in order to replace the daughter they had lost and that they were quite capable of murdering her and Judith so as to cover up their tracks. She never worked out the truth, the real reason for this exchange. Or the real reason why the two conspirators hunted her and her daughter down across the whole of France, for fear that she would reveal this terrifying scheme and that her child's face would be a vital piece of evidence.
"Our two investigations have now joined un like two rails leading to death, Niémans. Your hypothesis corroborates mine. Yes, the killer looked through the stolen papers this summer. Yes, the killer followed Caillois, then Sertys, then Chernecé. Yes, the killer uncovered the plot and decided to exact a terrible revenge. And that killer is none other than Judith's twin sister.
"A homozygous twin who acted just as Judith would have done, because she now knows the truth about her origins. That's why she uses a piano wire, as a reminder of her real mother's virtuoso talents. That's why she killed her victims in the rocky heights, there where her own father used to dig out crystals. That's why her own fingerprints could have been mistaken for Judith's…We're looking for her blood sister, Niémans."
"Who is she?" Niémans exploded. "What new name was she given?"
"I don't know. Her mother refused to tell me. But I've got her face."
"Her face?"
"A photograph of Judith, aged eleven. And so, since they are completely identical, of the murderer. I reckon that with this picture we can…"
Niémans was trembling spasmodically.
"Show it to me. Quick!"
Karim produced the photo and handed it to him.
"She's our killer, superintendent. She's avenging her dead sister. She's avenging her murdered father. She's avenging those smothered babies, those cheated families, all those messed up generations for the last fifty-odd years…What's up, Niémans?"
The photo was twitching up and down in the superintendent's hands as he stared at it, his teeth clenched fit to shatter. Suddenly, Karim caught on and leant over toward him. He clutched his shoulder.
"Jesus Christ, you know her, don't you, superintendent?"
Niémans let the photo drop into the mud. He looked as though he was about to lose his wits completely. His broken voice croaked:
"Alive. We've got to capture her alive."
CHAPTER 59
The two cops headed off through the rain. Gasping in shallow breaths, they did not exchange another word. They crossed several police road-blocks. The early dawn patrols glanced at them suspiciously. Neither of them suggested the idea of getting help. Niémans was off the case and Karim out of his patch. But still they both knew that this case was theirs, and nobody else's.
They reached the campus. They drove along its tarmac tracks, past its gleaming lawns, before parking and clambering up to the top floor of the main building. They strode on together down to the end of the corridor and, hidden either side of the frame, knocked on the door. No answer. They smashed open the lock and went inside.
Niémans brandished his Remington shotgun, loaded to the gills, which he had recovered from the police station. Karim was holding his Glock, pressed against his wrist by his torch. Two parallel beams of light and death.
Nobody.
They had just started a thorough search, when Niémans's pager bleeped. He was to call Marc Costes as soon as possible. He did so. His hands were still shaking and a terrible pain was gnawing at his innards. The young medic's voice was chirpy:
"Niémans? I'm with Barnes. Just to tell you that we've found Sophie Caillois."
"Alive?"
"Oh yes, very much alive. She was heading for Switzerland on the train."
"Has she said anything?"
"She says that she's the next victim. And that she knows who the killer is."
"Has she given you the name?"
"She'll only speak to you, superintendent."
"Keep her under close guard. Don't let anybody speak to her. Don't let anybody go near her. I'll be there in an hour's time."
"In an hour? You're…you're onto something?"
"Good-bye."
"Wait! Is Abdouf with you?"
Niémans chucked the cell phone to the young lieutenant and went back to his rapid explorations. Karim fixed his attention on the medic's voice:
"I've got the note of the piano wire for you," the pathologist said. "B flat?"
"How did you guess?"
Karim hung up without answering. He looked at Niémans, who was staring at him from behind his rain-splattered spectacles.
"We're not going to find anything here," he exclaimed, striding toward the door. "Let's head for the gym. It's her hide-out."
The door of the gymnasium, an isolated building standing away from the campus, put up no resistance. The two men burst inside and spread out in a semi-circle. Karim was still holding his Glock just above the beam of his torch. As for Niémans, he had turned on the spot fixed on the top of his gun, following the line of the barrel.
Nobody.
They clambered over the floor mats, scrambled under the parallel bars and stared up into the darkness, where rings and knotted ropes hung down from the ceiling. Silence, as of the grave. The smell of cold sweat and ageing rubber. Shadows, patterned over with symmetric shapes, wooden forms and metal struts. Niémans stumbled into a trampoline. Karim immediately spun round. A moment's tension. A brief look. Both of them could sense the other's nerves giving off sparks like flints. Niémans whispered: