The Mayan Codex

21

Twelve minutes into his pursuit of Picaro’s car, Lemelle’s cell phone started to vibrate. The shock of it nearly launched him out of his seat.

He glared down at the lighted screen. It was Milouins. Best answer it then. He wasn’t on the strongest ground.

‘Yeah?’

‘What the blazes is going on? I heard an engine start up down in the garage.’

Lemelle ground his teeth together and hammered silently at the steering wheel.

‘Lemelle? What’s happening? Out with it.’

While Lemelle was still debating what to say, the car he was following turned unexpectedly down the track towards Pampelonne beach. Lemelle thought for a moment, and then pulled off the road. He backed the Land Rover just inside a stand of trees and cut the engine.

‘Answer me, Lemelle – I know you’re listening.’

Lemelle made a violent arm gesture at his cell phone. Then he switched it on to hands-free, and threw himself back in his seat. ‘The girl. Lamia. She’s bolted again.’

‘I can see that. I’m standing in the library.’

‘Listen to this, then. She had help. One man. I was just in time to see them getting into their getaway car. So I borrowed the Land Rover. I’ve been following the two of them ever since they left the house.’

There was a brief silence. Well thank me, you bastard, thought Lemelle.

In a pig’s ear.

‘Where are they now?’

‘The guy must be an idiot. He’s backed himself into a corner. He’s just headed down the cul-de-sac at Pampelonne. You know. The road to the beach. There’s no possible way out but back past me. Because I can’t see that shit-heap of a car of his ploughing off around the point through the sand.’

‘Does he know you’re following him?’

‘Of course not. I held way back with my lights off. There’s no way he can have seen me.’

‘What if he’s simply dropping the girl off?’

‘Oh come on. That’s bullshit. Why would he drop her off down there? The place is as good as abandoned this time of year. He’d get the fuck away, that’s what he’d do. He’s made a mistake, that’s all. He’ll be back past here in five minutes. Then I’ll have him.’

‘What do you mean, you’ll have him?’

‘Just that. I borrowed your shotgun too.’

Milouins’s voice crackled through the speaker. His tone was urgent. ‘Don’t even think of it, Lemelle. If Lamia is in that car, and she gets hurt…’

‘Wait. Wait. I think I can see his headlights coming back. Yes. Yes. I’m sure of it.’ Lemelle broke the connection as fast as he could, a wolfish grin on his face. There were no headlights, of course. But there was also no way he would allow that bastard Milouins to queer his pitch again. This time he would do the job himself. It was still dark. There were no houses around. No one to see what happened. He had the whole fucking place to himself.

Lemelle eased himself out of the Land Rover and slammed the door. He fed eight cartridges into the Mossberg and then positioned himself behind a nearby tree. He was only ten yards from the road. The bastard who took Lamia would have to pass right by him when he returned from the beach after realizing he’d taken a wrong turn. Lemelle would simply spring out from cover and take the guy’s tyres out – after that he could do over the engine or not, depending on circumstances.

Lemelle could already taste the crump of lead as it bit into sheet metal – already feel the power the shotgun would give him over the two passengers in the car. Christ, how he’d make them grovel. There was no danger in all that, surely? When it was all over, and he’d had his kicks, he’d head back in triumph to the Domaine with his prisoners.

‘I’m returning your daughter to you, Madame la Comtesse. No. No problem at all. Just doing my job.’

Lemelle’s fantasy world had switched to overtime.