The Lost Labyrinth

II

'What the hell was that?' scowled Charissa, once she, Knox and Gaille had walked out of the hospital grounds, and the cameras were no longer on them. 'The police are planning to take Augustin into custody?'

'Claire was scared they'd try something,' Knox told her.

'They wouldn't dare.'

'They certainly won't now.'

Charissa shook her head angrily. 'I can't represent you if you're going to provoke the police unnecessarily. I have to work with these people on other cases. I have to keep good lines of communication open. How am I supposed to do that if you start throwing out wild accusations?'

'I'm sorry,' said Knox. He followed Charissa down a short flight of steps into a small park, where a young woman with lank dark hair stood on an upturned beer-crate and warned that Jesus was come, He was alive. 'You're right. It was stupid of me. It won't happen again.'

'It better not,' she warned. They emerged from the park onto a main road, turned right. They walked in stony silence to Charissa's car, bumped up on the kerb behind a truck. 'I'll drop you off at your restaurant,' she said.

'Aren't you coming?'

'I like to see my children at least once a day, if I can,' she said. 'And then I've got some calls to make, to smooth down those feathers you've just ruffled.'

'I'm sorry,' said Knox again. But this time he meant it.

'It's okay,' she sighed. 'I'll sort it out. And I'll see if I can't find out some more about what the police are up to.'

'We should talk about your fees,' said Knox. 'We need some idea of what to expect. We're only archaeologists, after all.'

'Nothing so far,' Charissa assured him. 'Nico asked me to help, so I helped. But of course if you should want me to stay on the case…'

'We do,' said Gaille, taking her wrist. 'Absolutely we do.'

'Then maybe you should come by my office tomorrow morning. We can talk about it then.'

'Not in the morning,' said Knox. 'I've got Augustin's talk to give.'

'The afternoon, then.' She handed him her card. 'Call ahead of time; my assistant will find a slot. And don't worry. We'll manage something. I don't charge the earth, not for cases like this. Frankly, they do my profile good. But you should be aware that it's not just my fees you have to consider. We may need expert medical opinions on Petitier's injuries, for example. We may need private investigators to shadow the police investigation. They're dealing with one of their own here, after all. At the very best, their officers will be hoping Augustin is guilty. It's human nature that they'll look for evidence that implicates him and exonerates their colleague. So perhaps we'd be prudent to make our own enquiries. This man Petitier, for example. Who is he? Why did he contact Nico? Is there anything to this golden fleece business? What was on his laptop? What was taken from his bag? If we can answer such questions, we'll be in a far stronger situation.'

'Gaille and I could look into it,' suggested Knox. 'We have some experience of this kind of thing.'

'This isn't a game,' said Charissa sharply. 'Petitier was murdered earlier today. Don't forget that. And whoever did it is still running around free-unless you believe it was your friend Augustin, of course. Do you really think they'll just stand back and let you two poke your noses into their business, particularly if you start getting close?'

'No,' acknowledged Knox. 'I guess not.'