‘Very droll.’ He straightened his jacket. ‘I must go — I have appointments. Tell Levignier that we must continue, of course. I’m concerned, that’s all. There’s a great deal riding on this project, and the Chinese won’t wait while we sort out our internal problems. If they sense trouble, they’ll pull out and take their business elsewhere. We can’t have that.’
‘The Chinese.’ Delombre’s lips twitched. He turned to stare across the city rooftops at the hazy shape of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. It looked glorious in the sunlight and he wished for a moment that he was over there, enjoying watching the pretty girls with their skirts gusting in the breeze rather than here with this toad of a man. ‘Yes, we mustn’t upset them, must we?’
‘I hope not. The country needs them. They are the future. You see — in twenty years’ time they’ll be the world’s new powerhouse economy.’
‘So everybody keeps telling me.’ Delombre didn’t like business people; they were greedy and boastful of their achievements and unable to see that not everything came down to money. But with the exchange of words had come a subtle shift in positions, with the Pole now holding the higher ground simply because he was right. For now, anyway. ‘What else are you worried about?’
‘The policeman who intervened — Rocco, is it? I hear he’s pushing for answers.’
‘You hear too much. You want to watch that — it could be dangerous.’
‘It’s what I pay people for: to keep me informed. It’s how I run a successful business. Information is power.’
‘Well, rest assured, that problem is being dealt with, too. Rocco’s a country cop with pretensions of greatness; he’ll back off or give up, whichever offers the easiest solution. Word has already gone down the line to cut him off. The case is on its way to being closed.’
‘How so? There’s a body. Two bodies.’
Delombre smiled this time, his face creasing. It still didn’t reach his eyes. He checked his watch, a sturdy, businesslike model covered with fine scratches, each one of which could tell a tale. ‘Actually … that’s not quite correct. Not now. We couldn’t do anything about the guard, not after Rocco found him. But the other one has … disappeared. For good.’
Girovsky’s look of surprise was overtaken by relief. ‘I see. Good.’ He glanced around them before asking, ‘What about the … the business today? I haven’t heard anything on the news. Did it happen?’
‘It’s done, that’s all you need to know. What did you expect — a fanfare and a public announcement?’
‘No, I assumed there would be some … outcry, I suppose. Did nobody notice?’
‘If they did, it was kept very quiet. After all, we wouldn’t want to panic the nasty kidnappers, would we? And before you ask, don’t bother. She is not your concern.’
‘As you wish. What about the other patients?’
‘The prisoners, you mean.’ Delombre allowed a brief moment of cynicism to show at the terminology. ‘They were there for a reason, each one of them. That doesn’t change and it certainly doesn’t concern you, either. The only one who did is no more. So forget him. Forget them.’
Girovsky blinked, but forged on, his tone resentful. ‘They were common criminals, weren’t they? Deviants.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Why they were getting special treatment is beyond me.’
‘It was hardly special. Or are you suggesting that a bullet for each of them would be the better option — and save the state a few francs into the bargain?’ He tapped Girovsky on the chest, making him flinch. ‘Now that would be messy, don’t you think, shooting prisoners? If it caught on it could lead to all sorts of excesses. Although,’ he chuckled without humour, ‘I grant you, it might be much cheaper in the long run.’ He chewed his lip. ‘Come to think of it, you own an armaments company, don’t you? God in Heaven, you’d even make money out of that. Now that’s what I call clever.’
Girovsky said nothing, but his expression showed what he would like to do with this pushy government functionary who treated him with so little respect.
‘Are we clear on everything else?’ Delombre’s eyes were touched with glints of colour, as if filled with an inner fire. Another shift had taken place, each man finding their position in the order of things, and remembering that, like it or not, they needed each other.
‘Do what you have to.’ Girovsky’s voice was calm, flat, resigned. ‘Tell Levignier that.’
Delombre lifted an eyebrow and leant forward slightly for emphasis. He said softly, ‘We always do what we have to, Mr Girovsky. You should bear that in mind.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘I know this place.’ Alix leant forward and stared through the window of Rocco’s Citroën as they approached a ramshackle farmhouse and a collection of tumbledown buildings down a narrow single-track lane. They were just a few kilometres from Poissons, but the village could only be reached from here by a circuitous route. ‘I was out here only a week ago.’
The place was owned by Thomas Portier, one of two brothers. His younger sibling, Hervé, owned the farm adjacent, just visible across the fields. A report had been filed about shots being fired. At first the brothers had claimed they had been sport shooting at targets in the back fields. But then Hervé had been admitted to hospital with gun pellets embedded in his shoulder, and the truth had slowly emerged.
‘They’ve been squabbling over the division of land for years,’ she explained. ‘Their father left Thomas a bigger share because he’s older, and it’s been eating away at Hervé ever since. Claude said it’s been going on for years. He’s been out here more than once to keep them apart, and I came out last time — but that was only to make sure the government vet didn’t get shot when he came to run a regular test on their animals for disease.’
‘Well, they’ve escalated their argument up the scale from squabbling,’ said Rocco. His mind was still half on the Clos du Lac affair, but this job had been dropped on his desk by Massin and he couldn’t ignore it. ‘Somehow we’ve got to put a stop to it before they kill each other — or anybody else. Any suggestions?’ He pulled to a halt and cut the engine, then took out his service weapon and checked the magazine.
‘Short of actually shooting them both, you mean?’ Alix eyed the gun with raised eyebrows. ‘A bit extreme, I’d have thought.’
He gave a grim smile. ‘Never go into a situation where guns are involved without being prepared. If they’re ready to use them on each other, they’ve already crossed one line; I wouldn’t want to be next.’
Alix nodded and took out her own gun and checked it, releasing the magazine and reinserting it with easy familiarity before sliding the gun back into its holster. She nodded. ‘Ready.’
They climbed out and walked across a rough gravel area to the house. Up close, it was clear that it was in need of more than just running repairs, with broken and missing tiles and peeling paint on the shutters and windows. The chimney was skewed precariously to one side as if waiting for the next strong wind to knock it down through the roof, and a collection of rubbish was scattered across the front of the property, completing an air of desperation and neglect. A line of barns and outhouses stood behind the house, along with an assortment of ancient farm equipment, a trailer made from an old lorry chassis and the customary large dung heap being picked over by a bunch of mildewed chickens.
On the house roof itself, a line of nervous pigeons stared down at the newcomers and shuffled along the ridge tiles like a badly rehearsed chorus line.