The Nostradamus prophecies

13

‘He’s slipped the net.’

‘What do you mean? How do you know that?’

Calque raised an eyebrow. Macron was certainly coming on – no doubt about that. But imagination? Still, what could one expect from a two-metre-tall Marseillais? ‘We’ve checked all the hotels, guest houses and letting agencies. When he arrived here he had no reason to conceal his name. He didn’t know he was going to kill the gypsy. This is an American with a French mother, remember. He speaks our language perfectly. Or at least that’s what the fool claims on his website. Either he’s gone to ground in a friend’s house, or he’s bolted. My guess is that he’s bolted. In my experience it’s a rare friend who’s prepared to harbour a torturer.’

‘And the man who telephoned in his name?’

‘Find Sabir and we’ll find him.’

‘So we stake out Samois? Look for this Chris person?’

Calque smiled. ‘Give the girlie a doll.’