Death at the Clos du Lac

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As Rocco was on his way to the city, a meeting was taking place in an annexe not far from the main Interior Ministry. There were three men present: Josef Girovsky, Marcel Levignier and the man called Delombre. A guard on duty outside the door was to ensure that there would be no interruptions.

‘I am reliably informed,’ Girovsky began accusingly, ‘that the policeman Rocco is still taking too much of an interest in our business.’

Levignier shifted in his seat. ‘I don’t see how that can be; he’s been instructed to finish his investigation and move on. In any case,’ he added primly, ‘there is nothing for him to see. The patients have been moved on and the place is empty.’

‘And Drucker is beyond reach,’ said Delombre softly. His eyes glittered as both men turned to look at him. He was enjoying the moment but ended their suspicions by conceding, ‘Not that far beyond reach, sadly. As for Rocco, I’m sure I can put a more permanent stop to his investigations if you want me to. Just say the word.’

‘No,’ Levignier murmured. ‘Not yet. We cannot go round killing policemen for doing their job. It would arouse too much interest, and we don’t need the heat.’

‘As you wish,’ Delombre replied with a shrug. ‘But once gone, the problem’s over. Period, as the Americans would say.’

‘Can’t you simply order him to stop?’ Girovsky put in forcefully. ‘He’s a public servant, isn’t he?’

‘Like us, you mean?’ Levignier gave a dry smile. ‘Actually, it doesn’t work like that. There are lines of command, layers of authority. I can’t order him to do anything, even if I wanted to … although,’ he added dryly, ‘I might sometimes try. All I can do is suggest.’

‘Then suggest. Suggest he stops his infernal digging! You talk of lines of command. Can’t you lean on his senior officer?’

‘Of course.’

‘Would it stop him?’

‘Yes, it would. He would have to obey.’

‘There’s a “but” in there.’ Girovsky looked frustrated. ‘Thank God I don’t have to run my businesses this way.’

Levignier adjusted his jacket sleeve and wondered why he was having to justify his actions to this self-important idiot. Probably because this idiot could, with his current exalted position within French industry and a long list of important ‘friends’, get Levignier shoehorned out of his job if he so chose. He sighed and explained, ‘Men like Rocco are like hungry dogs: they will obey a direct order, but they never lose the hunger. Rocco would always wonder why he was taken off a live investigation, why he wasn’t allowed to finish his job. It would be like an open sore, always there. Eventually, someone would listen to what he had to say.’

‘So what the hell do we do? He’s going to ruin things if he’s allowed to carry on. Discussions are approaching a critical stage and we cannot afford distractions. The Chinese are paranoid about any bad publicity getting in the way of future trade deals. A hint of scandal right now would derail everything we’ve achieved so far. And the Americans and British are waiting in the wings to scoop up anything we drop.’

‘They know the details of the discussions?’ Levignier queried. ‘I thought it was still highly confidential.’ His tone was waspish, as if realising that he was not as well-informed as he’d thought.

‘They’re bound to know something by now. Nothing stays secret for long where international trade is concerned — especially something of this magnitude.’ Girovsky straightened his tie with a fussy movement of his hand. ‘What the Americans don’t look for, the Taiwanese will almost certainly suspect and make capital out of, given a chance. They stand to lose too much to let it lie without a fight.’

‘Which is why action has been taken against a certain party — action, I remind you, that was instigated by yourself and your colleagues.’

‘It was drastic, but necessary.’ The Pole waved a hand as if anxious to brush the subject away. ‘And don’t pretend that you don’t stand to gain considerably in status and position if all goes well in the next few days and weeks. I know how these things work in government corridors. We’re not so different, you and I.’

‘I know very well what I am,’ Levignier said shortly. ‘And it’s nothing like you.’

Girovsky’s mouth twisted. ‘Touchy, I see. Well, never mind. I have no illusions, even if you do. These plans, if realised, will see France race ahead of our competitors and take a lead in the arms race for the next twenty years. The figures are eyewatering and the country needs this deal in particular. The Chinese are the future, believe me.’

‘That’s quite a sales pitch,’ said Levignier. ‘But you don’t have to convince us, Mr Girovsky. We do what we are told, which means whatever is in the best interests of France. Don’t forget that.’

Girovsky nodded. He took a deep breath, as if realising he’d been making too much of the statement. ‘Of course. Forgive me — but there is so much riding on this for all of us … it makes me forget myself.’ He glanced at Delombre, who had remained silent while the scene was played out. ‘But I do not discount this gentleman’s … contribution. So far we have kept everything under control. But having a rogue policeman nosing around because of other elements could bring the whole edifice crashing down. As I said, the Chinese are highly sensitive to bad news and will not hesitate to back out if there is any embarrassment threatened.’ He looked keenly at Levignier and said heavily, ‘You mentioned the best interests of France; well, let me remind you, the consequences for France if these negotiations fall through are too dire to contemplate.’

‘For France … or for you?’ Delombre murmured nastily.

Girovsky flushed with indignation. ‘I resent that! I, too, work for the glory of France, not for lining my own pockets!’

Levignier stopped further discussion by simply raising a hand. He was silent for a few moments as he thought the matter through. He knew when he was being played, but knew also that there are some games you cannot afford to win. And Girovsky, backed by many high-powered friends, was playing a winning hand with his use of patriotism as a driving factor. ‘Very well. We’ll stop him another way. The only way.’

Delombre brightened immediately. ‘So I get to bag a cop after all, then? That would be a first.’

‘Enough,’ Levignier growled, without looking at him. ‘This is no joke.’

‘So what are you proposing?’ Girovsky queried.

‘You’ll see. We’ll appeal to his baser instincts, let’s leave it at that.’

The Pole looked mystified, but acquiesced.

Delombre, on the other hand, sat back. A faint smile was edging his lips, as if he knew that his services were not going to be called off for long. He could tell by the desperation in the atmosphere, especially with the Pole. Levignier, too, was more anxious about this affair than he had seen him before, and had a great deal to lose. Talking would only go so far. Then action was needed.

It was why he was here, after all.