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Well, that was a waste of an afternoon. No excitement, not even any minor incident, or the slightest pigeon shit. Nothing.

Marc went downstairs to report to the godfather who was lighting a fire to dry himself by.

‘Nothing to report. I’ve got a crick in my neck from keeping watch for five hours. What about you? How is the questioning going?’

‘Leguennec is starting to clam up on me. We may be friends, but he’s got his pride. He doesn’t know which way to turn next, so he doesn’t want me to be an eyewitness. And because of my record, he only trusts me up to a point. And he’s further up in the hierarchy these days. He’s getting fed up at finding me under his feet all the time. He thinks I’m laughing at him. Especially since I did laugh when they found the hairs.’

‘And why was that, by the way?’

‘Tactics, my boy, tactics. Poor old Leguennec. He thought he was on to something and now he has half a dozen potential culprits, any of whom would fit the bill. I’m going to have to invite him round to play cards to get him to loosen up.’

‘Half a dozen? What do you mean? Were there some more candidates?’

‘Well, I pointed out to Leguennec that young Alexandra might have got off to a bad start, but that was no reason to risk putting his foot in it. Don’t forget that I’m trying to buy some time. That’s the whole point. So I suggested plenty of other plausible suspects. This afternoon, Relivaux, who is putting up a good defence, made a favourable impression on him. So I had to add my two pennyworth. Relivaux insists that he never went near his wife’s car. That he gave Alexandra the keys. I had to tell Leguennec that Relivaux had kept the spares at home. In fact, I brought them in for him. What do you think of that, eh?’

The fire had started to blaze up in the fireplace and Marc had always liked that brief moment when the flames jump up wildly, before the kindling collapses and ordinary burning takes over, which is captivating too, but for other reasons. Lucien arrived and warmed himself. It was June, but their hands still felt cold in the upper rooms at night. Except for Mathias, of course, who had just come in stripped to the waist to start cooking the supper. Mathias had a muscular but practically hairless torso.

‘Well, fantastic,’ said Marc suspiciously. ‘How did you get hold of the keys?’

Vandoosler sighed.

‘Oh. I get it. You broke in while he was away. You’re going to get us into big trouble.’

‘You pinched a hare the other day,’ replied Vandoosler. ‘Old habits die hard. I wanted to see inside his house. I had a good look round. Letters, receipts, keys. He’s a methodical fellow, Relivaux. Nothing compromising lying about.’

‘How did you find the keys?’

‘Easy. They were hidden behind the letter C of The Larousse Encyclopedia. The fact that he hid the keys doesn’t necessarily mean he’s guilty, though. He’s probably scared and it might have seemed simpler to say he didn’t have a spare.’

‘Why not just throw them away?’

‘In times of stress, it might be useful to have a car to which in theory you don’t have a key. As for his own car, it’s been given a thorough going over. Nothing to report.’

‘And the mistress?’

‘She didn’t stand up for long to Leguennec. St Luke was wrong about her. She’s not happy just to be Relivaux’s ladylove, she’s using him. He’s subsidising her and her real boyfriend, who doesn’t seem to mind pushing off when Relivaux turns up for the weekend. Not being the world’s most perceptive character, Relivaux doesn’t suspect a thing, according to the girl. Occasionally the two men have bumped into each other, but he thinks the boyfriend is her brother. According to her, he was happy with things as they stood, and I can’t see what she would have to gain by marrying him, since that would rob her of her freedom. And I can’t see what Relivaux would get out of it either. Sophia Siméonidis was a much more prestigious wife for him to show off in the social circles he aspired to. I did probe a bit harder though. I suggested that Elizabeth-that’s the girl-might be lying all along the line, and was really hoping to benefit from the advantages of hooking Relivaux, once he had got rid of his wife and inherited her money. She might have succeeded in marrying him, since she’s strung him along for six years, she’s quite pretty and a lot younger than he is.’

‘And the other suspects?’

‘Naturally, I lined up Sophia’s stepmother and her son. They have alibis for each other on the night of the Maisons-Alfort fire, but it’s entirely possible that one of them went there. It isn’t far from Dourdan. Nearer than Lyon, for sure.’

‘That still doesn’t give us half a dozen,’ objected Marc. ‘Who else have you suggested to Leguennec?’

‘Well, there’s St Luke, St Matthew and you. That will give him plenty to think about.’

Marc leapt up from his seat, while Lucien smiled. ‘For Christ’s sake! Are you crazy?’

‘Do you want to help Alexandra, yes or no?’

‘For crying out loud! It won’t help Alexandra one bit. And what earthly reason would Leguennec have to suspect us?’

‘No problem,’ Lucien intervened. ‘Three unoccupied men in their mid-thirties in a chaotic house. See? Not very respectable neighbours, are they? One of them takes the lady out, then brutally rapes her and sets fire to the car to cover his tracks.’

‘What about the postcard, then?’ shouted Marc. ‘The postcard with the star and the appointment? Did we send that too?’

‘It does complicate things a bit,’ Lucien conceded. ‘Let’s imagine that the lady had talked a bit about Stelios, and about the card she received three months ago. To explain her fears and to persuade us to dig under the tree. Don’t forget that, we did dig up her garden.’

‘As if I could forget that damned tree.’

‘Well,’ Lucien went on, ‘to lure the lady out of her house, one of us used the same rather crude trick, met her at the Gare de Lyon, took her somewhere else and so forth.’

‘But Sophia didn’t say anything to any of us about Stelios!’

‘Maybe not, but see if the police care. They would only have our word for it, and that wouldn’t carry much weight if we were already looking bad.’

‘Oh, that’s just perfect.’ Marc was trembling with anger. ‘Perfect. My godfather has such brilliant ideas. OK-what about him? With his record, and his fantastic adventures in the police force, and with women, he might fit the bill. So what do you think, Monsieur le Commissaire?’

Vandoosler shook his head.

‘No, think about it. Old men of sixty-eight don’t suddenly start going about raping people. If they were like that, they’d have a bit of form already. Any policeman will tell you that. But men in their thirties, living on their own, and a bit peculiar with it, well, who can tell what they might get up to?’

Lucien burst out laughing. ‘Priceless!’ he said. ‘You really are priceless, commissaire. Your hints to Leguennec are just hilarious.’

‘I don’t see the joke,’ said Marc.

‘That’s because you are pure in heart,’ said Lucien, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You don’t want to have a stain on your escutcheon. But your image is not what’s at stake here. It’s just a matter of creating a diversion. Leguennec can’t prove anything against us. But by the time he runs a check on us, where we’re from, what we’ve done, etcetera, etcetera, we’ll have bought another day, and he’ll have had two of his men tied up for hours for nothing. That’s at least one we can put across the enemy.’

‘I still think it’s stupid.’