Montoya leans back in his armchair and savours his second brandy appreciatively. The second is always better than the first, the senses of smell and taste are heightened. Valentin’s words come back to him: ‘evidence fabricated or not, I don’t mind either way’ … It would be funny if … At least now I know what I’m getting myself into, and it looks as though it might be more fun than I thought.
‘Eugénie, tell me. In your view, is there a chance that the bosses set fire to the factory?’ The green gaze becomes vague.
‘In my view … I just don’t know. The timing seems inappropriate, bang in the middle of the Thomson Multimedia takeover. They won the bid, by the way, have you heard? We didn’t think they had a hope in hell. And then the factory was occupied by the workers, that obviously puts it at risk. I expect the police will be taking a close interest in them first. But actually, if a thorough investigation were to point a finger at the management, I wouldn’t be altogether surprised.’ 21 October
It is drizzling, early on a gloomy morning in the lay-by of the southbound carriageway of the A31 motorway, some thirty kilometres from Pondange. It is a particularly Spartan lay-by with a few sodden grassy areas fringed by dark pines and a concrete toilet block. Karim drives around it twice to make sure there’s nobody there and parks his red Clio about twenty metres from the toilets. Engine switched off, his head against the headrest, he closes his eyes and waits. Ten minutes. A black BMW crawls into the lay-by and drives past the Clio. Eyes half-closed, Karim doesn’t move. It pulls up a little way ahead. Belgian licence plates, two men inside, dark suits, it’s them. He sits up, gets out of the car, in a red anorak, same colour as the car, goes into the toilets. The two men also head for the toilets, stretching and chatting. One of them is carrying a black canvas briefcase. They come out after a few minutes, still carrying the briefcase, get back into the BMW and drive off. Powerful acceleration, a fine piece of engineering. Two minutes later, Karim emerges. He’s wearing a black nylon rucksack which he flings into the Clio, then he drives off slowly, heading south and whistling.
Moments later, two men leap out of the pine trees ringing the toilets and meet at the door. They are wearing identical black leather jackets, black jeans and work boots. One of them has a barely visible white silk scarf knotted around his neck.
‘Fucking resin. I hope it hasn’t messed up my jacket. Anyway, it’s in the can.’
‘The light wasn’t good and we didn’t get the handover.’
‘Only to be expected. These shots will be adequate for our purposes. Come on, we’re out of here.’
They head into the trees, turning their backs on the motorway. On reaching the fencing they pick up a ladder lying in the grass, clamber over the wire netting, jump down on to a path that runs across the fields, then get into a car parked a hundred metres away and drive off towards Nancy.
Lieutenant Lambert sits facing Rolande Lepetit, feeling slightly awkward, eyes firmly on his computer screen. A beautiful woman sitting calmly staring at him. He wasn’t expecting that.
Rolande Lepetit, born on 23 June 1956 in Pondange, single, residing at 9 Cité des Jonquilles, Pondange, machine operator at Daewoo for two years.
Q. Were you on the premises when disturbances broke out in the Daewoo factory on 14 October?
‘What do you call “disturbances”?’
Lambert stops taking notes.
‘I was there when Émilienne Machaut’s accident occurred, yes. In my view, a worker electrocuted at her workstation is a disturbance.’
Lambert smiles at her.
‘I meant, were you in the factory when your colleagues downed tools?’
‘That’s more precise.’
A. No, I wasn’t there any more, I’d been fired.
Q. Did you return to the factory at any time on 14 October?
A. Yes.
Q. When, exactly?
Rolande leans towards Lambert, smiling at her memories.
‘I was at the supermarket when I heard the news: the lorries that came to move the stocks out hadn’t been able to get into the factory. The whole town was talking about it. I wanted to go and congratulate my friends, and I went back to the factory.’
A. It must have been some time around 15.00.
Q. Then what did you do?
A. Everyone expected it to be a long day and a long night. I went to the cafeteria to cook for those involved in the occupation, and I stayed there until the fire broke out.
Q. So you were there when Nourredine Hamidi came back with Hafed Rifaai, at around 20.00?
A. Yes.
Q. Were there many people in the cafeteria at that point?
A. Around thirty.
Q. What were you doing?
A. I was finishing making and serving the omelettes. I was busy in the kitchen.
Q. And what were the others doing?
A. They were playing cards, chatting, eating.
Q. Were you present at the meeting when Nourredine Hamidi proposed pouring chemicals into the river?
A. Yes, I was present.
‘But you shouldn’t overstress the importance of Nourredine’s proposal. The managers had just left the factory. We felt less powerful. There were several proposals, including Nourredine’s, which was overwhelmingly rejected, so we moved on to other issues.’
Q. Did you witness the attack carried out by Nourredine Hamidi on Ali Amrouche?
‘It wasn’t an attack. Ali was opposed to Nourredine’s proposal, which was rejected, and Nourredine felt hurt and betrayed. Besides, he was exhausted and overwrought from the day’s events.’
A. On his way out for some fresh air, Nourredine bumped into Ali. That’s all. Anyway, Ali Amrouche didn’t make a big fuss about it.
Q. Some witnesses have spoken of a very violent fight.
A. Well I’m talking about a minor tussle, nothing more.
Q. What did Nourredine Hamidi do after this fight?
A. He went outside with Hafed Rifaai, to walk, calm down‚ I don’t know, I didn’t ask him.
Q. Which door did they exit from?
A. The one that leads to the car park.
Q. Did he come back into the cafeteria?
A. Yes.
Q. At what time?
A. I have no idea. He wasn’t outside for long, maybe half an hour.
Q. Still with Hafed?
A. Yes.
Q. Then what did they do?
A. Hafed and some of the others went off to the security control centre and Nourredine settled down to sleep on a table in a corner of the cafeteria.
Q. Was he alone there?
A. No. There were five or six of them trying to get some sleep in the darkest corner.
Q. Did you see Nourredine Hamidi leave the cafeteria again?
A. No. He remained asleep until the fire alert.
Q. Are you positive?
A. Yes.
Q. Even though you were on the other side of the cafeteria — busy in the kitchen, according to your account — and there were several people lying down in the dark corner? You might be mistaken.
A. If he’d gone out, I’d have noticed.
‘Nobody else left the cafeteria after Hafed and his team.’
Q. But you had no particular reason to keep a constant check on Nourredine Hamidi’s movements while you were busy in the kitchen?
A. No of course not, I had no particular reason.
She falters now, her face tense.
‘I don’t understand what you’re trying to get me to say, or why you’ve got it in for Nourredine. It’s not the workers who set fire to the damned factory. And Nourredine would be the last person to do a thing like that.’
‘I’m not trying to get you to say anything, I’m taking down your statement, that’s all. I’m simply trying to obtain the facts. One last question.’
Q. Among your colleagues, is there one particular name, or names, that keep cropping up in connection with who might have started the fire?