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‘Videofit!’ declared Blake.

It was Volker who responded, spurred by the word. ‘Of what?’

‘The man and the woman who snatched Mary,’ announced Blake. He smiled, sure of his proposal and pleased with it. Quickly, almost too staccato, he recounted the physical description given by the two motorists and offered the sketches.

Volker said, casually: ‘Easiest computer graphic in the world. I can draw the faces as they appeared to both witnesses and then enhance them three-dimensionally. It’ll be counter-productive if either of them has any obvious facial disfigurement but gambling that they don’t I can make a right and a left profile and a full frontal.’ He smiled. ‘We established our own web site with the serial killing. We can post the images on our own home page and then advertise, through the main providers. Include a digitalized picture of Mary, too…’ He hesitated, nodding back to his communications set-up. ‘It’ll start a fresh avalanche. The first one’s dwindled, incidentally, down to a trickle.’

‘Do we want to start it up again?’ wondered Harding. ‘Both our witnesses think it’s a Belgian car: Brussels maybe. Here’s where the concentration needs to be, not worldwide.’

Claudine wished the Belgian motorists weren’t hearing a conversation they might later repeat. ‘There won’t be any facial disfigurement: Mary wouldn’t have got so readily into the car if there had been. And we need to emphasize it worldwide. It’ll feed their power need but at the same time it will be the beginning of the pressure I want to impose.’ To Volker she said: ‘The graphics could be shown on television, couldn’t they?’

‘Of course. In colour and actually moving, from profile to full face.’

‘That’s how we’ll guarantee the saturation here in Brussels.’

According priority to the computer graphics Claudine and the two detectives concentrated upon the physical descriptions of the man and woman to accompany Volker’s drawing, which the German began from the artist’s impressions and built up from the prompting of the two motorists blocked by the kidnap Mercedes. Volker had already created the three-dimensional portrait of the woman by the time Claudine delivered her suggested statistics with the undertaking for more, specifically the estimated height of both.

It was Blake again who suggested a way of calculating that from the known seat height of Mercedes up to and including the 300 range and the rough approximation of where Mary’s head came, against the woman’s shoulder, from Mary’s known height.

‘We’re learning what they look like,’ said Blake. ‘You getting to know what’s in their minds?’

Claudine nodded. ‘There’s no doubt that it began as a classic paedophile snatch, with a woman to allay the child’s fear. The woman’s the key, possibly the ringleader. And she’s recklessly arrogant, sitting casually, not hurrying, even when they’d caused a traffic block. The man was anxious, hurrying people by and even using his indicators when he pulled away, trying to minimize the inconvenience he’d caused by stopping as suddenly as he had at what I’d guess to be the woman’s command when she saw Mary walking by herself. The woman’s very quick, mentally. Mary’s scowling was at having an adventure spoiled. She was expecting a car and must have said something the woman was able to pick up on. She got Mary into the car and was able – at first, at least – to control her verbally. The most obvious way would have been by pretending to be the back-up car taking her where she expected to go. Physically to have touched Mary would have frightened her so she’s a practised child abuser. She’s probably taken kids this way before so we’ve got to go carefully through those previous case histories Poncellet is assembling. There is money. The jewellery description sounds like a Cartier set: I know because I’ve got the same. It’s called Constellation. So she likes expensive jewellery. That – coupled with the reckless arrogance – tells me she’s vain, overly sure of herself. The way she dresses her hair supports that: everything in place, controlled. When Kurt and Rompuy are happy with the computer compilation we should blanket hairdressing and beauty salons with it.’ She paused, searching for anything she needed to add. ‘And I’ve very little doubt that it was the woman who created the Mary, Mary Quite Contrary message: arrogance again. If it was her, it confirms her as the person in charge.’

‘A woman paedophile, targeting a girl?’ queried Blake, frowning.

‘It’s an unusual pattern but not totally unknown,’ said Claudine.

‘The publicity will be intense when the computer pictures are released,’ suggested Harding. ‘Won’t the physical risk to Mary increase – quite apart from the sexual danger – if they think we’re getting too close?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Claudine flatly. ‘But it’s something we can’t avoid.’

‘Would there be an element of protection in the fact that a woman is involved?’ wondered Blake.

Claudine shook her head positively. Even more flatly she said: ‘The majority of case histories of women sex perverts show them more physically cruel and deviant than men.’

‘Thanks for picking up on the things we missed,’ said Harding.

Claudine saw the opening at once. She hadn’t expected it to be so easy. ‘It’s a combined effort now, not a contest any more, isn’t it?’

‘It certainly is as far as I am concerned,’ said the American guardedly. ‘And I think today’s gone pretty damned well.’

With an aggression that surprised Claudine, Blake said: ‘You sure about that, Paul?’

‘I don’t think I understand that question,’ protested the American.

‘I thought we’d ironed out the working relationship,’ said Blake.

‘So did I.’

‘It would be unfortunate if it got fouled up again.’

Claudine had imagined she would have to lead this discussion and frowned curiously at her partner. Blake refused to meet the look.

‘It won’t on my part,’ assured Harding.

‘It didn’t make sense, John walking out as he did,’ said Claudine. It had to be confronted, not allowed to drift into innuendo and misunderstanding. ‘I know re-interviewing the eye-witnesses was primarily an investigative procedure but I’d have expected someone as obsessional as John to insist on remaining.’

‘I know,’ said the American. ‘I was as surprised as you.’

Claudine didn’t think she could go as far as openly suggesting Norris was suffering a mental problem. ‘So what are we going to do about it?’

‘He’s got a lot of respect, back in Washington,’ said Harding. What the hell was he doing, talking disloyally of a colleague? But Norris was behaving like a horse’s ass. Harding was more discomfited by the man’s behaviour today than he had been when he received the initial Iceman cable alerting him to Norris’s arrival.

‘I thought McBride had clout, too,’ said Blake.

‘I don’t have any reason – or the authority – to question John. If I tried my feet wouldn’t touch the ground until I got to Washington, probably in protective custody.’

‘Which would seem to sum up the problem,’ said Claudine.

‘Any move is going to have to come from your side,’ Harding insisted.

‘It would help if we knew when and where to make it,’ said Blake.

Harding shook his head despairingly. ‘I can’t work against my own task force commander!’

‘Don’t work against us, either,’ said Blake.

‘I won’t,’ repeated the American. Shit, he thought: what a total fuck-up!

Blake was about to speak when the telephone sounded. Harding grabbed it, eager for the respite. It was a very brief conversation. To Claudine he said: ‘It was Harrison, at the embassy. The ambassador has asked to see you.’

Claudine went alone to the Boulevard du Regent, leaving the two detectives watching Volker creating a startlingly life-like portrait of a narrow-faced, suntanned blond that both Rompuy and to a lesser extent Lunckner insisted was an amazing re-creation of the woman in the back of the Mercedes. It would, Volker assured them, be ready by the evening.