Death at the Clos du Lac

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

‘It was clumsy.’ Josef Girovsky slapped a firm hand on the polished surface of the conference table in the Interior Ministry annexe. He glared at Levignier but his words were directed at the man sitting at the far end of the table. Morning coffee stood undisturbed on a trolley near the door, the talk too urgent to have tempted anyone.

‘It was necessary.’ Delombre looked relaxed and unconcerned, as if discussing the deaths of two men was something he did every day. ‘The kid came at me with a cut-throat razor. I had to stop him. And the fat man had a heart attack. I know I’m good, but even I can’t arrange that.’

‘You still shot one of them,’ Girovsky reminded him. ‘That’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, and I arranged the scene so that it’ll look like an argument that went too far. The cops will never be able to trace the gun, and they’ll assume it belonged to the pervert. The kid came at him with the blade and he shot him. It’s a simple scenario and they’ll read it like a book.’ He gave Girovsky a cool glance. ‘Not that I have to justify myself to you.’

‘All right, let’s stick to the facts,’ said Levignier, interposing a calming word between the two men. He wasn’t so much concerned with anything the industrialist might say that could damage Delombre, but the other way round; he knew what his man was capable of if the Pole pushed him too far. ‘What’s done is done. At least we now know what Rocco had learnt — and it’s too much.’

‘You should have stopped him sooner,’ Girovsky muttered.

‘We tried. He’s been lucky,’ said Levignier.

‘I meant for good, not some half-arsed girl trap. Mother of God, if I ran my businesses in such an inept manner, I’d go bankrupt.’

It was an old argument, and one Levignier was sick of hearing. But it was one of the penalties of having to work in conjunction with this man. To change the nature and course of the discussion, he said, ‘Where are the negotiations with the Chinese so far?’

Girovsky sat back, content to be on his own ground. ‘They’re moving forward, but the topic of aircraft manufacture has come up again. They don’t like the discussions with Taiwan and are suggesting it could cause irreparable hurdles if those deals go through.’ He sniffed. ‘Unlike in other matters, when it comes to trade deals and Taiwan, Peking does not believe in talking in convoluted circles.’

‘What’s the likely outcome?’

Girovsky shrugged. ‘All bets are off, as the Americans would say. They’ll go elsewhere and we lose everything.’ He stared down at the table. ‘And all because of the ego of that bloody man, Bessine.’

Levignier barely hid a wry smile. When it came to egos, Girovsky was up there with the best of them. But desperation was also at play. If he gave the word, he knew Girovsky would leap at the chance of him sending Delombre after Robert Bessine, the aircraft manufacturer and Girovsky’s bitter industrial rival. They had each been storming about the world stage for years like trumpeting elephants, both eager to win huge contracts and outdo each other. But Bessine was currently holding firm, even now, by insisting on talking with Taiwan on the supply of jet fighters and commercial airplanes, much to the fury of Peking … and many people involved in the current round of trade negotiations on the French side, like Girovsky.

‘We have to be extremely careful,’ he said calmly. ‘If we rush, we fail.’

‘But you hold all the cards, surely, ever since you—’

‘Don’t say it.’ Levignier’s voice was soft, but cut through Girovsky’s anger like a knife. Although he was certain the room was secure, what Girovsky had been about to blurt out would, if overheard, be enough to see them all put away for life. His eyes glittered dangerously. ‘We have that situation under control.’

‘Really? I hope so.’ Now even the Pole sounded uneasy, as if realising that what had been set in motion in the past few days had taken them all beyond redemption.

‘Absolutely. The subject is now housed in a facility where nobody will find it.’

Girovsky sniffed and looked up. ‘I heard talk of a special task force being set up to do just that. Is it true?’

Levignier wondered how much to say. He was becoming concerned at Girovsky’s limited level of patience, and his dubious ability to keep his information and opinions to himself. If he was sounding off in here like this, who knew what he was saying to his close confidants higher in the Ministry or elsewhere. But leaving him out of the sequence of events completely would only expose Levignier if the idiot began blabbing to his business friends — or worse, initiating some kind of drastic action using his own people.

‘It’s true that a small search team has been put together, yes. But they won’t find anything. They’re too few and too late.’

‘How can you guarantee that?’

Levignier shrugged. ‘We have our ways. In any case, this city is very large and a handful of men can’t search everywhere.’ He paused while searching for the correct words. ‘The point was made from the very start by those much more senior than me that impulsive action on the part of the police would only lead to a drastic reaction by those on the opposite side. Hence the small team which, I remind you, benefits us all. The less they accomplish, the better.’

‘He means if there was a city-wide search, the crazy idiots would panic and kill her,’ Delombre put in bluntly. If he was concerned at upstaging Levignier or using direct language, he didn’t show it. He shifted in his seat and stared hard at Girovsky. ‘Why don’t we stop pissing around with words? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A chance for a power play? You knew what you were asking for as a means to change the course of the talks, and this is what you’ve got. Now you just have to sit back and be patient.’

Girovsky’s lip curled and his face flushed. He slammed a hand down on the table and stood up, sending a pen skittering onto the floor. ‘And what if I choose not to, Mr whatever-your-name-is? What if I decide to stop “pissing around with words” as you so inelegantly put it, and tell that maniac Bessine that his wife has been kidnapped by men accustomed to killing and unless he stops talking to Taiwan, she won’t be coming home again? What if I do that?’

Delombre smiled, and glanced at Levignier, who said nothing but waved a hand, a simplified form of shrug. Taking it as a signal to continue, Delombre said softly, ‘Well, you can do that, Mr Girovsky. Of course you can. But if you do, I can guarantee you that she won’t be the only person not going home again. Where will your trade advantage be then?’

‘Gentlemen … enough.’ Levignier spoke quietly but firmly, cutting off an outraged protest from Girovsky. ‘Nobody is going anywhere near Bessine, least of all you.’ This last was directed at Delombre, before he turned to address the businessman. ‘In fact, a message has already gone to him which will quickly establish the ground rules.’

Girovsky blinked at the roundabout message he was hearing. ‘Ground rules? What the hell does that mean? This isn’t some minor civil service matter we’re talking about — this is business!’

‘It means that as soon as he receives confirmation of the situation, we can expect to hear by return that all the hurdles, as you put it earlier, will be cleared out of the way, and your — our — plans can go ahead.’

‘But will he do the right thing? What if he digs his heels in and goes ahead with his talks?’

The very idea had not been given voice before, and Levignier had a momentary feeling of uncertainty. What if, against all perceived odds and expectations, Bessine went ahead, risking his wife’s life? It would be a disaster. And there were people in positions of power who were counting on that not happening; people who would soon decide to cut themselves loose of Girovsky and anyone else who might be able to talk of what had happened.

People like himself.

But then he took reassurance from the fact that, unlike Girovsky, who preferred money and business deals to any woman, Robert Bessine had a much celebrated relationship with his wife and would do anything for her, no matter what the cost.

‘Oh, I feel sure he’ll do the right thing.’ He stood up, signalling Delombre to stay where he was. He had a job for him to do. ‘At least, he will if he wants her back in one piece.’