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.The driver braked hard but still the car hit her a little.The girl fell onto the bonnet.She stumbled but she didn’t stop.She kept running.But she saw the driver.It was a woman.And seeing this is what she cannot forget.Because Moreau had been angry already.And she feared how he would react when he found that she was gone.She was afraid that he would take revenge on this woman in the car.’Trent’s body was stone now.Immobile.‘I asked for the date when this happened.My friend’s niece remembered very clearly.It was a Thursday, a little over six weeks ago.It was the day before you first called me from Naples.’ Ribbons of smoke coiled up from his cigarette, waving and writhing in front of his sunken eyes.‘The car was a blue Clio,’ he said.‘The same as Aimée’s.’Chapter EighteenTrent found himself standing alone with Alain, out by the damaged Mercedes and the dusty red Japanese sports car Philippe had beached beside the fountain.The security lights blazed around them but the sky was beginning to lighten from indigo black to shades of grey.Fifteen minutes more and the sun would be up.Maybe the lamps would finally be turned off.‘You backed me in there,’ Trent said.He couldn’t quite disguise his puzzlement.Alain shrugged.He was wearing his tailored grey jacket again.‘You were right about Serge.’ He exhaled wearily, mouth curled into a tired and sheepish half-smile.‘Should I tell them about him?’‘Maybe later.Let them sleep first.’‘I’m going to check the pool house again.He must have been communicating with them in some way.’‘He’d be a fool to have left anything behind.’‘He is a fool.He betrayed M.Moreau.’‘We should speak with the housekeeper.We should do it now.’‘I’ll do it.But not right away.When she wakes up.It’s better if I’m alone.She’s worked with M.Moreau for too long to talk with a stranger in the room.’Trent made a low humming noise.He gazed off along the driveway, as if he almost expected the chauffeur to be walking back towards them through the hazy grey.‘I can drive you,’ Alain said.‘There are more vehicles inside the garage.You were right about that, too.’‘Better you stay here.Get some rest.’‘And if your car doesn’t start?’‘Return my mobile and I’ll call you.My Beretta, too.’Alain cocked his head to one side and held Trent’s eye for a beat.Then he grunted and smiled his wan, fatigued smile again, like a guy reluctantly facing up to paying out on a losing bet.He fished inside his trouser pocket for a plastic key fob that he jabbed towards the Mercedes.The car squawked and its shattered indicators blinked.Alain opened the driver’s door, the hinge straining and scraping against the distorted front wing.He reached across to the passenger side, released a catch on the glove box and retrieved Trent’s pistol.‘Somewhere safe,’ Trent muttered.Alain backed out of the car and weighed the Beretta in his hand.He assessed Trent with one last, lingering look.Then he extended his arm.Trent took the pistol.He stripped it and counted the rounds.Thirteen left.He palmed the magazine back in, lifted up his shirt and slipped the pistol into the waistband of his jeans.Alain delved a hand into his rear pocket and lifted Trent’s mobile between his finger and thumb.‘You have a number for this? In case we need to talk?’Trent took the mobile and flipped it open.He entered his numerical security code.‘It has a number but I don’t know it.Tell me yours.I’ll call you.’Alain recited the sequence and Trent typed it in, then hit CALL.A few seconds later, Trent heard a muted chirp coming from the chest pocket of Alain’s jacket.A faint blue light pulsed through the charcoal fabric.‘I took the card from your wallet, too,’ Alain said.‘It lists a number in Marseilles?’‘My home phone,’ Trent told him.‘But try this mobile first.And don’t call me from the phone in Jérôme’s study.The gang could be trying to get through to you at the same time.’He nodded to the bodyguard, just once, an abrupt and businesslike farewell between two professionals, and then he pocketed his mobile and turned and marched off along the driveway, his feet pounding the gravel.He didn’t look back over his shoulder but he could sense Alain’s eyes on him.He made a conscious effort to relax his shoulders and swing his arms and glance from side to side as he walked.Like an average guy out for a stroll.Like a typical visitor with a perfectly reasonable degree of curiosity about his surroundings.But his prying was far from ordinary.He was searching very hard.He hadn’t timed it exactly right.A thin band of hazy pink was just visible beyond the hills on the opposite side of the valley.Another ten minutes and it would have been perfect.But for now the light was still a little murky.He could see a tangle of treetops off to his far right, but it was hard to say if it was the location he was looking for [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]