‘Hooked?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Could be dangerous.’
‘I’m used to it. I’m living with two teenagers, remember?’
‘Ah. That explains it.’
33
Gatekeeper’s Cottage, Kuragin chateau: 30 October
The unmarked police car pulled up at a side entrance of the Fleury-Mérogis Prison. It was just before eight am, and an icy wind was blowing in from the east.
Jack turned to Dupree sitting next to him. ‘This is it. Ready?’ he said and opened the door. Jack got out, turned up his collar and hurried to the entrance.
Dupree joined him moments later. ‘Definitely a first.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘A convicted killer released on bail into the care of a retired police officer involved in the investigation that led to his conviction, which is now under appeal? How does that sound to you?’
‘Weird, I know, but it’s a good idea, don’t you think?’
‘For Lapointe and the authorities with egg on their faces and terrified of the media, definitely. But for us? I’m not so sure.’
‘Getting cold feet?’ asked Jack.
‘No. Just feeling a little uneasy.’
‘Understandable.’
‘I’m surprised Katerina agreed to this. You must have been very persuasive.’
‘Not really. She’s a very generous person with a tremendous sense of right and wrong. She thought this was the right thing to do. And so do I.’
‘Let’s hope he won’t disappoint us.’
‘I don’t think he will.’
‘Let’s go and find out, shall we?’ said Dupree.
Just before leaving that morning, Jack had decided it would be best if Bartolli and Tristan stayed at the chateau and waited for Landru there, rather than coming to the prison. As soon as Jack walked through the doors and was met by the stony-faced prison officials, he knew he had made the right decision. The procedure to have Landru released was painfully tedious and full of frustrating bureaucratic red tape administered by officers who clearly resented what was happening, and did their best to make the procedure as difficult as possible. Dupree had to fill out countless forms and sign wads of documents; he was treated more like a new inmate being processed for admission than someone taking charge of a former prisoner being released.
While Jack had to use all his self-control not to let his frustration get the better of him, Landru appeared calm and just sat there quietly in his ill-fitting civilian clothes that appeared several sizes too big, and waited patiently for his release. No-one looking at him would have guessed that behind the controlled facade, he was almost bursting with jubilation as he counted down the minutes to the moment he had dreamed about for almost five years: freedom. The turning point had arrived, and Landru was ready to embrace it.
He was certain that inside his head he carried information that would not only set him free and clear his name, but also expose those who had destroyed his life and make them pay. In order to achieve that, he needed Dupree and Bartolli, and especially the French police, who desperately wanted to salvage their damaged reputation by solving the Death Mask Murders – quickly.
For Landru, however, there was more. A lot more. He was looking at a different, much bigger picture: solving the mystery of the Llanganates treasure, which would be the culmination of his life’s work and vindicate everything he had done to achieve this. And most importantly, it would justify his many failures and mistakes. And for that, he needed Jack. For now, all the pieces seemed to be falling into place better than he had hoped, and all he had to do was walk through those intimidating prison gates a free man, albeit with temporary strings attached.
As soon as the gates closed behind him, Landru stopped and took a deep breath before getting into the waiting car. The man on the motorbike watching the car from the far end of the deserted lane, pulled down the visor on his helmet, started his powerful machine, and then followed the car as it pulled away and turned into the main street.
Landru barely spoke on the way back to the chateau and just stared out of the window. Just before the car turned into the long driveway leading to the chateau, he turned to Jack sitting next to him in the back. ‘Thank you both for everything. My lawyer explained what happened behind the scenes to make this possible. I can’t express how I feel right now. To see colours and life after five years behind drab prison walls designed to crush the spirit, is a liberation.’
‘I understand,’ said Jack.
‘No doubt your lawyer would have explained that this is a temporary arrangement,’ said Dupree, anxious to put the unusual relationship on the right footing from the very beginning, ‘with strict conditions attached. And he would have told you about the urgency—’
‘What urgency?’ interjected Landru, frowning.
‘As soon as we get to the cottage we’ll have a talk,’ said Jack, trying to diffuse the rising tension.
Landru nodded. ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s this: nothing in life is free.’
‘You are absolutely right about that. In the end, it’s all about the price. It’s all about what we are prepared to pay,’ said Jack.
Dupree looked over his shoulder at Jack and raised an eyebrow. ‘Chief Superintendent Lapointe will join us later today and explain everything.’
‘Lapointe wants to talk to me?’ said Landru, surprised.
‘Yes. There’s a lot at stake here, as you will see.’
Landru didn’t reply and stared out of the window again as the car crossed the little bridge leading to the chateau. This was definitely turning out better than expected.
The man on the motorbike stopped at the park gates and watched the police car cross the moat. A chateau close to Paris; very neat, he thought. Then he pulled out his phone and called O’Hara.
Lapointe arrived two hours later. Landru had settled into his room in the Gatekeeper’s Cottage and had devoured an early lunch prepared by cook. After five years of bland prison fare, the sandwiches and the tea cake tasted like a feast. So as not to overwhelm Landru, Jack had asked Tristan to stay in the background for the time being. Bartolli, however, had joined them for lunch. She was carefully observing Landru and analysing his demeanour when Lapointe walked in, followed by Clara Samartini, who had arrived early that morning from Florence. This was a surprise no-one had expected.
Lapointe took off his trench coat and hat, put them on a chair next to the fireplace and introduced Samartini. Then he reached for his pipe and lit it.
He looks more and more like Maigret, thought Jack, smiling.
Used to working under pressure and dealing with the unexpected, Lapointe knew exactly how to broach the subject that had brought him so suddenly face to face with Landru. ‘I will not comment on the case under review,’ he said quietly, looking at Landru who was watching him intently. ‘That’s a matter for the courts.’
Landru realised Lapointe was dancing around the main question. Interesting. I wonder what he wants, he thought, but didn’t respond.
‘We have more important and urgent matters to address,’ continued Lapointe. He watched his pipe smoke curl towards the fireplace like exhaled breath on a cold winter’s morning. ‘As you no doubt know, your early release on bail was authorised by the Prefect of Police personally, and approved by the court,’ continued Lapointe. ‘And as you also know, nothing happens without good reason.’
Landru nodded.
‘Apart from the bail conditions you are obviously aware of, there’s another, more urgent subject here that concerns us all,’ continued Lapointe and drew on his pipe. ‘An opportunity.’
‘What kind of opportunity?’ asked Jack.
‘Dr Samartini can explain that much better than I. But before I ask her to do that, I must insist that you keep everything you are about to hear totally confidential. Under no circumstances must any of this get out. You will see why in a moment. Lives depend on it.’
Eve
rybody nodded.
Satisfied, Lapointe turned to Samartini. ‘Dr Samartini. Please ...’ he said and stepped back.
Samartini began by outlining the pending court case against the Mafia in Calabria about to get underway, and the part played by the women in making the groundbreaking prosecutions possible. ‘In case you are wondering what all this has to do with the Death Mask Murders, there is a surprising connection, and it has to do with that anonymous tape sent to Chief Superintendent Lapointe that has triggered Mr Landru’s release.’
Samartini paused to let this sink in. ‘But more importantly, it has to do with what Jack discovered about it that really matters here,’ she continued quietly. ‘Spiridon 4.’
‘Can you please explain?’ asked Landru.
Jack, who had heard it all before leaving Florence, was wondering how Landru would react to this, because everything depended on that. He was the essential link that could make it all come together and work.
Samartini took a deep breath and continued, ‘About a year ago, the Squadra Mobile in Florence came up with a bold strategy that would allow them to infiltrate the Mafia and break the code of silence that had so effectively protected the key players for generations.’
‘What kind of strategy?’ asked Dupree, surprised by the direction the unusual briefing was taking.
‘My colleagues and I developed a unique, encrypted messaging app designed to allow safe communication among a closed group that had exclusive access to the app. We knew that such an app would have huge appeal to the Mafia, always on the lookout for secure ways to communicate with one another. Suspicious by nature and almost paranoid about secrecy and security, the Mafia had experimented with several encryption devices before, but none of them had taken off. For that reason, the Mafia preferred personal contacts and face-to-face meetings. Needless to say, that had made surveillance extremely difficult. However, as business became more complex, stretching over continents and multiple time zones, such meetings became increasingly problematic. To cut a long story short, through a network of informers, we have been able to successfully infiltrate the Mafia and introduce this app to key players. So successful has this become, and so widespread the uptake, that the app – known as Omerta – is now the preferred method of communication between even the highest Mafia echelons.’
Samartini looked around the room before delivering the punchline. ‘But, of course, what the users don’t know is that the police are listening to every word spoken, every message sent, and have a precise record of it.’
‘Seriously?’ said Dupree, shaking his head as the staggering implications of what Samartini had just said began to sink in.
‘Are you suggesting that this has gone unnoticed and is continuing to this very day?’ asked Landru.
‘Yes. And that has made this huge prosecution about to begin in Calabria possible. It is based almost entirely on evidence collected through this app. Hundreds have been arrested and millions of euros seized, together with tonnes of drugs both in Italy and overseas. The Mafia has been dealt a devastating blow.’
‘Extraordinary,’ said Dupree.
‘It is,’ said Samartini. ‘But like all good things, it is about to come to an end.’
‘Why?’ Dupree asked.
‘Because of the court case I mentioned. As soon as the case starts, the app and its implications will be introduced into evidence and therefore become public.’
‘But before that happens, we have a unique window of opportunity,’ said Lapointe calmly. ‘We want to use this app to expose whoever is behind these Death Mask Murders and engaged Spiridon 4.’
‘And we, that is the Squadra Mobile, want to nail one of the Mafia kingpins connected to these murders,’ said Samartini. ‘Because they were the facilitators who made them possible.’
‘How exactly?’ asked Landru.
‘Let me explain,’ Jack cut in. ‘As you know, I’ve just returned from Italy. Cesaria and I met with the chief prosecutor and one of the key witnesses involved in the Calabrian trial, and we were almost killed in the process. Looking objectively at everything we have recently discovered so far, and taking into account what we know about Spiridon 4 and what they were capable of, it is reasonable to conclude that Spiridon 4 was involved here and committed the last murder at least, and quite possibly some of the others as well. So much seems clear. What isn’t clear is this: who was behind it all, financed it, and more importantly, why.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ said Landru, pretending ignorance. ‘Where do I fit into all this?’
‘We believe you can help us solve these cases,’ said Lapointe softly.
‘How?’
‘By leading us to those responsible.’
‘You can’t be serious! I’ve just been released from prison, for Christ’s sake!’ said Landru, becoming agitated.
‘Exactly. And that is precisely what will help us here, but I’m sure you already know that.’
‘Please explain.’
Lapointe emptied his pipe into an ashtray on the mantelpiece and then turned slowly towards Landru. ‘Let’s stop playing games and put our cards on the table, shall we? I hate wasting time.’
‘All right by me,’ said Landru. He was beginning to see Lapointe in a different light, grudging respect overshadowing resentment and growing by the second. ‘What’s on your mind, Chief Superintendent?’
Lapointe picked up his pipe and pointed it at Landru. ‘Here’s the deal: You help us solve these murders, and in return you get your freedom and public exoneration.’
‘Solve? How?’
‘By setting a trap.’
‘What kind of trap?’ asked Landru, looking puzzled.
‘One that will ensnare the key players in this deadly game.’
‘What kind of bait will you use?’
‘Greed and retribution.’
‘How curious. Is that all?’ said Landru, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.
‘No, there’s more.’
‘More bait perhaps, Chief Superintendent? Tell me.’
Lapointe slipped his pipe into his pocket. ‘Yes. You,’ he said quietly and reached for his coat and hat.
34
Kuragin chateau: 30 October, evening
Apart from the conservatory where Jack did most of his writing, overlooking the manicured gardens and the pond, the rustic kitchen in the basement of the chateau, with its large fireplace and huge wooden refectory table rubbed smooth and shiny by elbows of generations past, was Jack’s favourite place where he felt most comfortable and at home. In a way, it reminded him of the kitchen in the remote Queensland homestead where he grew up and had spent some of his happiest childhood moments, before the relentless drought had overwhelmed the family and driven a bitter wedge between his parents.
Jack opened another bottle of wine, a 2012 Domaine Rene Cacheux et Fils Chambolle-Musigny ‘Les Argillères’ – one of Countess Kuragin’s favourites – and walked around the large table filling up the glasses. It was the end of a long, eventful day, and already quite late.
Bartolli pointed to the bottle in Jack’s hand. ‘What a splendid wine,’ she said.
‘You should see the cellar. It’s quite extraordinary.’
‘And Katerina left you in charge?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Was that wise?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Good wine is to be enjoyed, not hoarded.’ He turned to the cook clearing away the plates. ‘Isn’t that right, Antoinette?’
‘Oui, certainement!’ said the cook, a chubby woman in her fifties, beaming.
‘As you can see, Jack’s very popular down here,’ said Tristan. ‘He always praises the cooking, and never leaves a morsel of food on his plate.’
‘I noticed,’ said Bartolli, laughing. ‘My mother told him he could come for lunch in our home any time. He ate two bowls of her pasta and sang its praises all afternoon.’
‘Apparently, he did the same the other day at lunch with Giuseppina in Calabria,’ Samarti
ni chimed in, shaking her head. ‘Cesaria told me. It broke the ice.’
‘Speaking of Giuseppina and what she told us,’ said Jack, turning to Samartini, ‘could you repeat what we discussed in Florence with Grimaldi just before I left?’
Samartini put down her glass. ‘Sure,’ she said, collecting her thoughts. What she had found out about Landru and discussed with Lapointe earlier that day was valuable information she wanted to factor into her answer.
‘As we know, all of this began with Landru’s lawyers making contact with the Prefect of Police here in Paris on twenty-four September. They claimed that their client had new vital information about his conviction. They also asked for permission for their client to meet someone urgently – Jack. On three October, Jack met Landru in the Fleury-Mérogis Prison and—’
‘We know all that,’ interrupted Jack impatiently.
Samartini held up her hand. ‘I know. Please bear with me. It is important to follow the sequence of events closely here, otherwise what I’m about to tell you will make no sense.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jack, biting his lip. After an exhausting, eventful day full of unexpected surprises, Jack felt a little irritable and edgy, which wasn’t like him at all.
‘Apart from everything else Landru told us,’ continued Samartini, ‘several matters stand out that have a significant bearing on this extraordinary case so far. First, Landru cracking that cipher and finding out what that meant—’
‘The Paris address,’ Bartolli cut in. ‘“Deep down in the cellar is a wall, behind it you will find all.”’
‘Yes. That chamber of horrors and what it revealed. Six death masks and various body parts pointing to unsolved murders.’
‘A magnum opus of unspeakable crimes,’ said Jack.
‘Yes, but much more than that: a challenge,’ said Bartolli. ‘Quite unique, and diabolically clever. The brainchild of a deranged, yet brilliant mind marching to a different moral drum. A psychopath outside the textbook.’
Samartini nodded. ‘Quite. This was then closely followed by another event: that anonymous video sent to Lapointe, graphically showing the brutal murder Landru had been convicted of.’
The Death Mask Murders Page 21
