Labyrinth

CHAPTER 66

The Commissioner of the Police Judiciaire of the Haute-Pyrenees strode into Inspector Noubel’s office in Foix and slammed the door shut behind him.

“This had better be good, Noubel.”

Thank you for coming, sir. I wouldn’t have disturbed your lunch if I thought it could wait.“

He grunted. “You’ve identified Biau’s killers?”

“Cyrille Braissart and Javier Domingo,” confirmed Noubel, waving a fax that had come through minutes earlier. Two positive IDs. One shortly before the accident in Foix on Monday night, the second immediately afterwards. The car was found abandoned on the Spanish-Andorra border yesterday.“ Noubel paused to wipe the sweat from his nose and forehead. They work for Paul Authie, sir.”

The Commissioner lowered his massive frame on to the edge of the desk.

“Im listening.”

You’ve heard the allegations against Authie? That he’s a member of the Noublesso Veritable?“ He nodded. ”I spoke to the police in Chartres this afternoon – following up the Shelagh O’Donnell link – and they confirmed they’re investigating the links between the organisation and a murder that took place earlier in the week.“

“What’s that got to do with Authie?”

“The body was recovered quickly due to an anonymous tip-off.”

“Any proof it was Authie?”

“No,” Noubel admitted, “but there is evidence he met with a journalist, who’s also disappeared. The police in Chartres think there’s a link.”

Seeing the look of scepticism on his boss’ face, Noubel rushed on.

“The excavation at the Pic de Soularac was funded by Madame de l’Oradore. Well hidden, but it’s her money behind it. Brayling, the director of the dig, is pushing the idea that O’Donnell has disappeared, having stolen artifacts from the site. But it’s not what her friends think.” He paused. “I’m sure Authie has her, either on Madame de l’Oradore’s orders or on his own account.”

The fan in his office was broken and Noubel was perspiring heavily. He could feel rings of sweat mushrooming under his arms.

“It’s very thin, Noubel.”

“Madame de l’Oradore was in Carcassonne from Tuesday to Thursday, sir. She met twice with Authie. I believe she went with him to the Pic de Soularac”

“There’s no crime in that, Noubel.”

“When I came in this morning I found this message waiting for me, sir,” he said. “That’s when I decided we’d got enough to ask for this meeting.”

Noubel hit the play button on his voicemail. Jeanne Giraud’s voice filled the room. The Commissionaire listened, his expression growing grimmer by the second.

“Who is she?” he said when Noubel had played the message a second time.

Tves Biau’s grandmother.“

“And Audric Baillard?”

“An author and friend. He accompanied her to the hospital in Foix.”

The Commissioner put his hands on his hips and dropped his head. Noubel could see he was calculating the potential damage if they went after Authie and failed.

“And you’re a hundred per cent certain you’ve got enough to link Domingo and Braissart to both Biau and Authie?”

“The descriptions fit, sir.”

“They fit half of the Ariege,” he growled.

“O’Donnell’s been missing for three days, sir.”

The Commissionaire sighed and heaved himself off the desk.

“What do you want to do, Noubel?”

“I want to pull in Braissart and Domingo, sir.”

He nodded.

“Also, I need a search warrant. Authie’s got several properties, including a derelict farm in the Sabarthes Mountains, registered in his ex-wife’s name. If O’Donnell’s being held locally, chances are it’s there.”

The Commissioner was shaking his hand.

“Maybe if you put a personal call through to the prefect…”

Noubel waited.

“All right, all right.” He pointed a nicotine-stained finger at him. “But I promise you this, Claude, if you fuck up, you’re on your own. Authie’s an influential man. As for Madame de l’Oradore…” He let his arms drop. “If you can’t make this stick, they’ll rip you to pieces and there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop them.”

He turned and walked to the door. Just before he went out, he stopped. “Remind me who this Baillard is? Do I know him? The name’s vaguely familiar.”

“Writes about Cathars. An expert on Ancient Egypt too.”

“That’s not it…”

Noubel waited. “No, it’s gone,” said the Commissioner. “But for all we know, Madame Giraud could be making something out of nothing.”

“She could, sir, although I have to tell you I’ve not been able to locate Baillard. No one’s seen him since he left the hospital with Madame Giraud on Wednesday night.”

The Commissioner nodded. “I’ll call you when the paperwork’s ready.

“You’ll be here?”

“Actually, sir,” he said cautiously, “I thought I might have another go at the English woman. She’s a friend of O’Donnell. She might know something.”

“I’ll find you.”

As soon as the Commissioner had gone, Noubel made a few calls, then grabbed his jacket and headed for his car. By his reckoning, he’d got plenty of time to get to Carcassonne and back before the Prefect’s signature on the search warrant had dried.

By half-past four, Noubel was sitting with his opposite number in Carcassonne. Arnaud Moureau was an old friend. Noubel knew he could speak freely. He pushed a scrap of paper across the table.

“Dr Tanner said she would be staying here.”

It took minutes to check she was registered there. “Nice hotel just outside the Cite walls, less than five minutes from rue de la Gaffe. Shall I drive?”

The receptionist was very nervous about being interviewed by two police officers. She was a poor witness, close to tears much of the time.

Noubel got more and more impatient until Moureau stepped in. His more avuncular approach yielded better results.

“So, Sylvie,” he said gently. “Dr Tanner left the hotel early yesterday morning, yes?” The girl nodded. “She said she would be back today? I just want to be clear.”

“Oui.”

“And you haven’t heard anything to the contrary. She hasn’t telephoned or anything?”

She shook her head.

“Good. Now, is there anything you can tell us? For example, has she had any visitors since she’s been staying here?”

The girl hesitated.

“Yesterday a woman came, very early, with a message.”

Noubel couldn’t help himself jumping in. “What time was this?”

Moureau gestured for him to be quiet. “How early is early, Sylvie?”

“I came on duty at six o’clock. Not long after that.”

“Did Dr Tanner know her? Was she a friend?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. She seemed surprised.”

“This is very helpful, Sylvie,” said Moureau. “Can you tell us what made you think that?”

“She was asking Dr Tanner to meet someone in the cemetery. It seemed an odd place to meet.”

“Who?” said Noubel. “Did you hear a name?”

Looking even more terrified, Sylvie shook her head. “I don’t know if she even went.”

“That’s okay. You’re doing very well. Now, anything else?”

“A letter came for her.”

“Post or hand-delivered?”

There was that business with changing rooms,“ called a voice from out the back. Sylvie turned and glared at a boy, hidden behind a mound of cardboard boxes. ”Pain in the bloody-“

“What business with rooms?” interrupted Noubel.

“I wasn’t here,” said Sylvie stubbornly.

“But I bet you know about it all the same.”

“Dr Tanner said there was an intruder in her room. Wednesday night. She demanded to be moved.”

Noubel stiffened. Immediately, he walked through to the back.

“Causing a lot of extra work for everybody,” Moureau was saying mildly, keeping Sylvie occupied.

Noubel followed the smells of cooking and found the boy easily enough.

“Were you here Wednesday night?”

He gave a cocky smile. “On duty in the bar.”

“See anything?”

“Saw a woman come charging out of the door and go chasing after some bloke. Didn’t know it was Dr Tanner until after.”

“Did you see the man?”

“Not really. It was her I noticed more.”

Noubel took the pictures out of his jacket and held them in front of the boys face. “Recognise either of them?”

“I’ve seen that one before. Nice suit. Not a tourist. Stuck out a bit. Hanging around. Tuesday, Wednesday maybe. Can’t be sure, though.”

By the time Noubel got back to the lobby, Moureau had got Sylvie smiling.

“He picked out Domingo. Said he’d seen him around the hotel.”

“Doesn’t make him the intruder, though,” murmured Moureau.

Noubel slid the photo on the counter in front of Sylvie. “Either of these men familiar to you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “although…” She hesitated, then pointed at the picture of Domingo. The woman asking for Dr Tanner looked quite like this.“

Noubel exchanged glances with Moureau. “Sister?”

“I’ll get it checked out.”

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to let us into Dr Tanner’s room,” said Noubel.

“I can’t do that!”

Moureau overrode her objections. “We’ll only be five minutes. It’ll be much easier this way, Sylvie. If we have to wait for the manager to give permission, we’ll come back with a whole search team. It will be disruptive for everybody.”

Sylvie took a key from the hook and took them to Alice’s room, looking drawn and nervous.

The windows and curtains were shut and it was stuffy. The bed was neatly made and a quick inspection of the bathroom revealed that there were fresh towels on the rack and the water glasses had been replaced.

“No one’s been in here since the chambermaid cleaned yesterday morning,” muttered Noubel.

There was nothing personal in the bathroom.

“Anything?” asked Moureau.

Noubel shook his head as he moved on to the wardrobe. There he found Alice’s suitcase, packed.

“Looks like she didn’t unpack anything when she moved rooms. She’s obviously got passport, phone, the basics, with her,” he said, running his hands under the edge of the mattress. Holding the handkerchief between his fingers, Noubel pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. It contained a silver strip of headache pills and Audric Baillard’s book.

“Moureau,” he said sharply. As he passed it over, a small piece of paper fluttered from between the pages to the floor.

“What is it?”

Noubel picked it up, then frowned as he passed it over.

“Problem?” said Moureau.

“This is Yves Biau’s writing,” he said. “A Chartres number.”

He got out his phone to dial, but it rang before he’d finished.

“Noubel,” he said abruptly. Moureau’s eyes were fixed on him. That’s excellent news, sir. Yes. Right away.“

He disconnected.

We’ve got the search warrant,“ he said, heading for the door. ”Quicker than I’d expected.“

“What do you expect?” said Moureau. “He’s a worried man.”