Polar Quest

59

‘It’s over there, under the light,’ Martineau said.

They passed a few battered Renaults and a VW Passat before reaching Martineau’s BMW.

‘Z8,’ Kilkenny said when he recognized the car’s sleek curves. ‘You have taste.’

He punched the trunk release on the remote fob and the lid sprang open. Inside the small trunk, Kilkenny found a black leather briefcase containing Martineau’s laptop.

‘What’s on your computer?’

‘What do you mean?’ Martineau asked, surprised by the question.

Kilkenny tossed his jacket in the trunk and held up the black briefcase. ‘This laptop computer — what the fuck is on it? Is this where you keep your experiment logs?’

Martineau’s eyes grew wide. ‘Yes.’

‘Is there information on Eames?’

‘Yes, and you, too,’ Martineau replied.

‘Show me,’ Kilkenny demanded.

He set the laptop on the Z8′s removable hardtop and switched it on. The Mac booted up quickly and asked for a password.

‘What’s the password?’ Kilkenny asked sternly.

‘GATCCATCGA’

‘A DNA sequence, cute.’ Kilkenny typed in Martineau’s password. ‘Where’s the information about Eames?’

Martineau talked Kilkenny through her file directory. He skimmed through her notes and found that she’d harvested Eames’s DNA from cells she recovered from a water glass that he’d used while dining at Lafitte’s New York home. From that sample, Martineau fabricated sperm cells that were genetically indistinguishable from the real thing.

‘I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. I guess I’m a little of both. What a waste of ability. It’s time to go talk to the police.’

‘Aren’t you forgetting about Roxanne Tao?’

‘What?’ Kilkenny demanded.

‘She broke into my lab while we were having dinner. Duroc captured her. She’s at Lafitte’s estate right now, and I am certain Duroc’s men are enjoying her immensely,’ Martineau taunted. ‘I’m told she’s quite attractive.’

‘You know where she’s being held?’

‘Yes, but if you take me to the police, they will want to get warrants and permission from the government before they search the house of a man as powerful as Charles Lafitte. No one is going to rush out to save your associate, and by the time they do get there, she will be dead and her body gone. Then it will be your word against Lafitte’s. But there is an alternative.’

‘What?’

‘A trade, me for your associate.’

‘I’ve got a better idea. You show me where Roxanne is, and I’ll tell the authorities you were cooperative. It may make the difference between life in prison and the death penalty. Comprenez-vous?’

‘Oui, Martineau replied nervously.

‘How far to Lafitte’s château?’

‘It’s a little more than a hundred kilometers, about an hour away.’

‘Not the way I’ll be driving.’

Kilkenny opened the passenger door for Martineau, then helped her into the low bucket seat. Because of the handcuffs, she had to sit with her legs folded beneath her. Kilkenny pulled Martineau’s phone out of his pocket and dialed a long string of numbers.

‘MARC Computer Center,’ the familiar voice answered, ‘Grin here.’

‘Grin, it’s Nolan. I’ve acquired a laptop containing evidence on it that should clear Eames. You think you can hook something up real quick to download this puppy? I have a digital phone that can patch into the laptop’s modem. Problem is, I have to do this from a car and we’ve got less than an hour to do it.’

‘Gimme a sec while I open up a window for remote access.’

Kilkenny waited, listening to Grin humming as he typed.

‘All right, Nolan, I’m ready for you. Call my machine’s direct line and I’ll do the rest. If we get a good satellite connection, I can pull twenty gigs out of that laptop in under thirty minutes.’

‘Thanks. Talk to you later.’

Kilkenny ended the call, patched the digital phone into Martineau’s laptop, and keyed in the number for Grin’s computer. Once Grin had control of the laptop, Kilkenny set it in the leg space in front of Martineau’s seat.

‘Dominique, I wouldn’t kick that computer if I were you. It would upset me.’

Martineau guided Kilkenny out of Paris and onto N12, the national highway that ran west from Paris into the Normandy countryside and all the way to Brest. Once on the highway, Kilkenny quickly ran through the Z8′s six-speed gearbox, at times pushing the car past 150 kilometers per hour.

Near Dreux, a musical flourish sounded from Martineau’s laptop.

‘What’s it say?’ Kilkenny asked, keeping his eyes on the winding road.

Martineau glanced down at the laptop. ‘Your friend says he got everything.’

Kilkenny downshifted, pulled off the road, and parked; there were no other cars in sight. He picked up the laptop and saw that Martineau had told him the truth. After typing a quick reply to Grin, he shut the laptop down and placed it back on the floor.

‘How far from here?’ Kilkenny asked as he slipped the Z8 into gear and punched the accelerator.

‘About thirty-five kilometers.’

‘Tell me about Lafitte’s château and the layout of the property.’

‘The grounds around the château are very large, many hectares of property — rolling woods, pasture, gardens, and the riverbank. Along the roads, there is a very tall, thick privet hedge.’

‘Any fencing or gates?’

‘The only fences are around the pastures, for the horses. Lafitte has a large stable. There are two guarded gates — the main gate and the service entry.’

‘What kind of security?’

‘There are four guards on duty at all times, more during large functions. There are cameras and motion-detection equipment around the property and alarms on the buildings.’

‘Describe the buildings.’

‘Entering from the main gate, you’ll pass a small gatehouse. There is usually one man there. As you drive up the road, you will see a long, low stone building on your right — that is the stables. On the left are some cottages and service buildings. The security staff occupies one of the cottages. The rest are for groundskeepers, equipment, and Lafitte’s automobiles. The road ends at the château.’

‘Tell me about the main house.’

‘The château dates back to pre-Revolutionary times. It’s shaped like a wide H. The center contains the public spaces, while the wings hold bedrooms, the kitchen, and servant quarters.’

Fifteen minutes later Kilkenny slowed and pulled off the highway into the countryside near Verneuil-sur-Arve, a small historic town situated on the Arve River. A few kilometers outside the village, a fifteen-foot-high wall of dense foliage appeared alongside the road.

‘This is the border of the estate,’ Martineau announced.

Kilkenny slowed the BMW and studied the hedge. ‘No getting through that without a chainsaw. How far from the hedge to the guardhouse?’

‘Over a kilometer, I think.’

‘Motion detectors would nail me before I even got close. Where’s the main gate?’

‘Just up ahead.’

They rounded a curve in the road and saw an illuminated opening in the privet hedge. Kilkenny pulled into the driveway and stopped short so that their faces stayed out of the light. The BMW’s high beams poured light at the gatehouse and through the baroque ironwork into the manicured grounds beyond.

‘What are you doing?’ Martineau asked.

‘Just making it up as I go along,’ Kilkenny replied, lowering the window.

Kilkenny beeped the horn just as the guard stepped out of the gatehouse near the gate. A uniformed man held his hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of the high beams.

‘Dr Martineau?’ he asked as he stepped around to the side of the BMW. He recognized Martineau’s car, but could not see who was inside.

Kilkenny lifted his arm through the open window and squeezed down on the spray can he’d taken from Martineau’s purse. The guard clutched his face, passed out, and fell to the ground.

He dragged the unconscious man back into the gatehouse. The man reeked of Martineau’s chemical spray.Kilkenny held his breath to avoid another assault on his senses as he stripped the guard of his pistol — a Glock 9mm — and checked the clip. The weapon had a full load. Kilkenny slammed the clip back in place, chambered a round, and checked the safety. Armed, he punched the button that opened the gate and returned to the BMW.

‘Did you miss me?’ Kilkenny asked as he put the car into gear and drove through the open gate.

Martineau scowled at him uncomfortably. Her knees were stiff and she’d lost all feeling in her calves and feet. She cursed each time Kilkenny drove over a bump in the road, causing the handcuffs to rub against her like a steel thong. ‘It looks pretty much the way I pictured it,’ Kilkenny said as he followed the main drive into the estate.

A white wooden fence surrounded the paddock and on the far side stood a long stone building with a gabled roof. A series of small square windows punctured the thick walls and the eave bowed into eyebrows over the large barn doors. Ahead, he saw the long masonry facade of Lafitte’s château softly illuminated.

‘Is that the guardhouse, up on the left?’

‘Yes.’

Kilkenny switched off all the car’s lights and turned onto the side road that led to the guardhouse. He pulled the car off the road behind a large trimmed shrub and parked.

‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he said while taking the keys from the ignition and opening the door.

‘I hope they catch you, Kilkenny,’ she said, her voice low and seething with anger. ‘Then I’ll cut off your testicles and feed them to you before you die.’ ‘I’ll miss you, too.’