Death at the Clos du Lac

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Rocco dropped Claude and Alix off in Poissons before heading back to Amiens. He found a note from Massin, waiting to see him in his office.

‘I’ve been advised,’ Massin said as soon as Rocco entered, ‘that an undercover team of officers working in the Pantin district of Paris was attacked last night while raiding an apartment. One of them was shot and wounded, but not seriously. He was lucky. Inside the apartment they found two bodies, both male, both shot at close range.’

‘Who were they?’

‘Well, that’s where it gets interesting. The undercover team had been following the two men’s progress across the north of the city, although they hadn’t managed to get a clear sighting or identify them. But they were certain they were driving a furniture van with Véronique Bessine inside.’

‘But they didn’t find her.’

‘No, sadly, they didn’t. What they did find is a large van parked in a street nearby containing ample evidence that a person was held captive for a number of days. And one of the men has a history of being involved in kidnaps, although no firm convictions.’ He looked at Rocco. ‘You don’t sound surprised.’

‘I’m not.’ He hesitated, wondering how far he could take this man into his confidence. They had a chequered history, he and Massin, where trust had not been a high priority between them. But he couldn’t see any way past this point without telling Massin what he suspected … and what he knew for certain. What Massin — who invariably chose the safe against the risky where his superiors in the Interior Ministry were concerned — chose to do next was anybody’s guess.

He told Massin everything.

The senior officer looked aghast at first, then incredulous, then shocked when Rocco told him about the trade talks and the motive behind the kidnap of Bessine’s wife.

‘Rocco, I find this hard to believe,’ he said at one point. He reached for the telephone. ‘Do you want coffee?’

‘Yes. Please.’

He ordered coffees, then told his secretary to hold all calls, no matter who they were from. ‘Well, of course,’ he conceded after a brief exchange, ‘unless it’s from Monsieur le President. But I don’t think that’s likely, do you?’ He shook his head and put the phone down as if it might bite him.

He looked hard at Rocco, then held up a finger and stood up. He walked around his office, then sat back down again, clearly agitated. ‘So let me understand this properly. All this … the killing at the Clos du Lac, the murder of the guard, and then of this supposedly already dead Stefan Devrye-Martin and his friend, and the approach to you by this Miss — Roget, you say? Roget, yes — on the orders of this Commander Levignier of ISD, and now the killings in Paris … they’re all linked to this kidnap, which has been carried out by, you suspect, Levignier’s people in order to frustrate trade talks between Bessine’s people and Taiwan.’

‘In favour of Peking and other industrialists here in France, yes.’

‘Incredible. It doesn’t seem possible. Why—’ He broke off at a knock on the door, and leapt up to admit his secretary carrying a tray with cups and a fresh brew of coffee. She handed the tray over before being ushered out again, but not before glancing at Rocco with a look of incomprehension.

‘Who else knows about this?’ he queried, stirring sugar into his cup.

Here it comes, thought Rocco. This might be where it gets stamped on.

‘Desmoulins, Lamotte … and Gardienne Poulon,’ he conceded, adding, ‘they all know bits and pieces — Desmoulins probably more than the others.’

‘Good, good.’ Massin drank some coffee, then took another walk around his desk, tugging at his jacket. ‘We need to keep this contained.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I don’t mean swept under the rug, Inspector. I mean between a select few officers.’ He sat down and gave Rocco another hard stare. ‘Can you get her out of there — the Bessine woman?’

‘I think so.’ Rocco held his breath. This was unexpected. He didn’t know what to say. Thank you seemed inappropriate.

‘You’ll need men — good men. I’ll speak to Godard. He’s got some excellent officers under his command. And whatever resources you need from here. But you’ll have to be discreet. If word leaks out about an operation being planned …’ He shook his head and didn’t finish. Natural caution rearing its head again, thought Rocco.

‘So,’ he said quickly, before there was a change of heart, ‘you’re ready to go with this?’

‘Of course. I should have my head examined, I know. But if we had not had the … uh … experiences that we have, you and I, then I would now be calling the Ministry for advice.’ He stared into his coffee. ‘But we all know that would be a disaster. When are you planning on going in?’

‘Tonight, after dark. There’s a back way in, but we might have to play it by ear.’

‘Not sooner?’ The implication was clear: what about the kidnap victim — if indeed she was in there?

‘They’d see us coming. The guards look as if they know what they’re doing, and they must have a fall-back plan in case of a raid. Darkness gives us the edge.’

‘Well, that’s your … speciality. But you have my full authority.’ He picked up the telephone and said, ‘I’ll speak to Godard, Canet and Perronnet. I can’t hide this from them, but I know they will be discreet and support us where necessary.’ He nodded and began to dial, and Rocco took it as his cue to leave.

Rocco found Desmoulins churning through some paperwork, and said quietly, ‘What are you doing this evening?’

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘Come to my house, eight o’clock. Don’t tell anyone.’

Desmoulins looked at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Are we going hunting?’

‘Something like that. Dress for the occasion.’

‘You bet.’ Desmoulins looked excited, and began to attack the paperwork with renewed vigour. ‘See you later.’

Rocco picked up the phone and rang Claude.