The 7th Woman

by Frédérique Molay

  “We have four days counting today,” Kriven cut in, uncomfortable with the concerns expressed by the psychologist. “What do we do?”

  “Keep questioning the neighbors, and search the apartment, all night if you need to,” Nico answered. “Check the husbands’ schedules. Vidal, get that trace evidence analyzed right away. Make sure our lab guys get the results to me at dawn. Wake up Dr. Tom Robin so he can work on the lock of hair. Rost, call Marc Walberg for me. He needs to compare this message with the previous one. I want to know if it’s the same person who wrote it. That’s not all …”

  Nico took out a printout from his jacket and turned it so everyone could see it. Everyone recognized the room and Valérie Trajan’s body.

  “Dear God. Where did you get that picture?” Kriven asked.

  Nico took a deep breath and then sighed.

  “At Dr. Alexis Perrin’s office, Rue Soufflot. He’s a general practitioner. The victim’s medical files are on his computer, along with confirmation of their pregnancies and pictures of the murder scenes.”

  “Are you saying that …” Théron said.

  “No,” Nico cut in. “He’s not our man, but my brother-in-law. It’s totally incomprehensible. He even had appointments with each one of these women, who, evidently, did not show up at his office. Since Monday, his appointments have been in shambles. Someone must be playing with his calendar and his computer.”

  “Why? Are you sure?” Rost asked. He understood the consequences this discovery could have.

  “The killer really has something against Nico,” Dominique Kreiss said. “To the point that he’s involving a family member. It’s very troubling.”

  “We can’t eliminate this Perrin lead,” Kriven said. “Isn’t that right, Nico?”

  “I know. You take care of it, David. Go there. Look into it closely. I didn’t have time, and I’m certainly not the one to do it. Call in a computer specialist to look into Alexis’ computer. We need to find out how the data got on it. Ask Bastien Gamby. He’s the best.”

  The counter-terrorism section was composed of three six-person squads. It also had its own research department and a top-notch computer expert, Gamby.

  “Are you thinking it’s been hacked?” Kriven asked.

  “I’m not thinking anything. I want to know. Check Dr. Perrin’s appointments for the afternoon. Maybe the name of the next victim is written on his calendar. And there’s more. Alexis is left-handed and loves sailing. That means he knows about fisherman’s knots, and some are even framed in his office.”

  “Shit!” Rost let slip.

  “I don’t understand,” Nico said. “There are too many coincidences. I’m aware of that. But it is quite simply impossible. I’ve known Alexis for fifteen years. He doesn’t have the profile of a murderer. For crying out loud, he’s been sleeping with my sister all this time! Please, let’s not jump to any conclusions. It’s too serious.”

  “Particularly if we are dealing with someone who is after you and who has clearly studied how to make things hard for you,” Dominique said.

  “Why is he killing these women if he’s after me?”

  “These women are the focus of his fantasies,” the psychologist said. “I have no doubt about that. But you are the person he has decided to challenge. Perhaps he knows you and hates you for what you represent or wants to drag you into his murderous rage.”

  “But what can I possible be to him?”

  “You’re in charge of the brigade criminelle at the age of thirty-eight. You’re on a roll. Maybe he wants you to pay for your success, simply because he’s jealous. Or maybe it’s someone you put away. There could be a thousand reasons in the head of a mentally deranged person. Think about your private life, as well.”

  Nico shrugged. His private life was pretty flat, with the exception of a ray of sunlight that had just started to shine in—Caroline Dalry. Sunlight so hot, so luminous that he was already afraid to lose it.

  “Can you write your conclusions down for me?” Nico asked the psychologist.

  “I’ll take care of it tonight.”

  “Perfect. I’m off to the autopsy. It is nearly two in morning. Let’s meet at, say, five, in my office. Let Cohen know, along with the investigating magistrate.”

  ERIC Fiori greeted him at the medical examiner’s office. He looked furious, and Nico politely asked why, even though he had more pressing matters on his mind than the coroner’s mood.

  “I’m the one on duty tonight,” Fiori said curtly.

  Nico looked at him, not understanding.

  “I could have handled the new victim myself. I’m qualified enough for that. But you preferred to call Professor Vilars.”

  “That’s true,” Nico said.

  “I find that unacceptable. Do you know how long I’ve worked here?”

  “That is not the issue. OK, you’re not happy. But Professor Vilars is the chief medical examiner, and you have to understand that for a case of this importance, I prefer relying on her best judgment. She is the one to decide on the best thing to do.”

  “I give up. But you know what I think about it. Follow me. Armelle is getting ready for the autopsy.”

  Nico complied, surprised by the doctor’s attitude and the familiarity he used to talk about his boss. It was probably a demonstration of some repressed machismo, a chafing against having to work under a woman, even if it was a woman of Professor Vilars’ caliber.

  Armelle was setting up her instruments. When he entered, she smiled as only a woman knows how, with both gentleness and encouragement. Then her lips disappeared behind her white mask, which she tied behind her neck. She put on a second pair of gloves for better protection. The investigating magistrate, Alexandre Becker, appeared at that moment.

  “You would have waited for me, I suppose?” he said.

  “I am entirely at your disposal, Monsieur le Juge,” Professor Vilars responded, with enough seriousness to avoid further criticism, but with a touch of sarcasm to show that she had not particularly appreciated the comment.

  “Dr. Eric Fiori will assist me, since he is chomping at the bit to give me a hand,” Armelle continued. “Let’s begin, if you will.”

  She started by inspecting the body, describing what she was doing as she moved along.

  “I count thirty lashes of the whip, as with the other victims. It is clearly not a coincidence. The breasts have been amputated and replaced with those of the previous victim, Chloé Bartes. There is a single stab wound to the abdomen. The knife shows the same technical characteristics as the previous ones. Forensics will confirm, providing additional proof that it is the same murderer.”

  Armelle had been at it for an hour already, and Nico would have preferred that it last only a few minutes. He glanced at the investigating magistrate, who remained silent, showing no emotion. The coroner made an incision in the victim and skillfully opened her up, examining each organ. There was a heavy silence in the room while she looked for early signs of pregnancy.

  “Valérie Trajan was one month pregnant,” Professor Vilars announced in a gloomy voice.

  How was it possible? How did the murderer have this information? And what role did Alexis play in this ghoulish plan? These were the questions hounding Nico while Armelle continued the autopsy.

  “Well, look at that.”

  “What is it?” Nico asked impatiently.

  “Mrs. Trajan must have worn contact lenses. But there isn’t one on her right eye. She must have lost it. I am extracting the one from the left eye. I will have the contact lens examined and a sample taken from its surface for genetic analysis.”

  “I’ll confirm that she wore them,” Nico said.

  “We don’t have much to work with,” she concluded. “I will provide you with the time of death. Based on my initial observations, it happened at the beginning of the afternoon. I’m going to look more closely and get my report to you in the morning, Monsieur le Juge.”

  It was four in the morning. Nico set an appointment with Be
cker an hour later at headquarters and hastened out of the medical examiner’s office. He didn’t really like that place and had much to do.

  NICO had barely gotten into his car when he decided it was time to let Cohen know. He woke him up and started summarizing the night’s events. He didn’t usually provide him with all the details of an investigation, but he was doubly involved in this one and could not leave his superior in the dark. Cohen, too, decided to report to headquarters. Then Nico contacted Jean-Marie Rost, who was still at the murder scene with the division’s teams.

  “Marc Walberg is very absorbed in the killer’s message,” the deputy chief said. “You know him, he shouldn’t be bothered. He promised to have some conclusions for our five a.m. meeting. We searched the Trajan apartment from top to bottom. You were right, the victim was fairly disorderly. Her clothing is all over the closet, her underwear just thrown in the drawers. She wasn’t the type of women to set out her slippers the way we found them. We’ll have to see if that leads somewhere. Mr. Trajan arrived not long after you left. He is in shock. I sent him to the hospital. I’ll question him a little later, and I’ll call his place of employment when it opens.”

  “I’d like you to verify a little something for me,” Nico said. “Check to see if you find any contact lenses in the bathroom or the bedroom. The victim should have worn them.”

  “I’ll do that now. See you later.”

  They hung up. Nico arrived at 36 Quai des Orfèvres and immediately went to the division’s offices. Nets were spread between the floors of the building, just in case someone was tempted to jump over the rails. There were showcases on each level with a large collection of medals and uniforms. The Criminal Police Benevolent Association also used the space to hang posters announcing Beaujolais Nouveau celebrations, the staff Christmas party, retiree dinners and the like. Team solidarity showed whenever there was good reason, such as the death of a member of the service.

  Nico took refuge in his office. His cell phone showed that his sister had tried to reach him several times during the night. He called her.

  “Good God, Nico! What is happening? Alexis is in a terrible state, and two police officers are still with him in his office.”

  “I’m sorry, Tanya. I should have called you to explain, but I admit that I have not had a minute to myself. And the whole thing is very strange.”

  “What whole thing? Please, tell me.”

  “I’m working on the serial killer case. Alexis has confidential information about the victims.”

  The other end of the call fell silent.

  “Tanya? Listen, Alexis doesn’t understand what is going on, and neither do we. What is certain is that the criminal has decided to target me. I would not be surprised if he tried to involve my family members. We just have two or three small things to check.”

  “You don’t have any doubts about Alexis, do you?”

  “Of course not, but we need to find out who is manipulating us as quickly as possible. I have requested police protection for you. I recommend that you take time off from work until further notice. Don’t let the kids go to school. Stay home for the time being.”

  “You’re scaring me, Nico. Nothing like this has ever happened to us before.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, believe me.”

  “Promise me that you will find who is doing this.”

  “Now you’re doubting me? Have I ever let you down?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So give me a few days, and this thing will be over. I promise.”

  “What about Dimitri? And Mom? Are they in danger?”

  Nico sighed. To tell the truth, he didn’t have the slightest idea.

  “Ask Maman to stay with you until Sunday. I won’t be able to get enough backup to ensure your safety if you’re spread out. I’ll call Sylvie later.”

  “OK. And if you need us to take Dimitri in, we can do it, no problem.”

  “Thank you. Did Caroline leave?”

  “Right after you did. She isn’t aware of anything. She only noticed that Alexis wasn’t acting normal. I wouldn’t be surprised if she calls today to make sure that everything is all right. What should I tell her?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I would have guessed as much. You’re hot on her. You can tell a mile away.”

  “Tanya …”

  “Don’t deny it. You’ve got good taste. She’s worth it, clearly. I’m sure she noticed that you’re interested in her.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Nico, you were acting like a teenager. You were devouring her with your eyes. For a minute there I thought you were going to jump all over her. Do you really think she didn’t get it? Come on.”

  “Oh.”

  “Seize the day, Nico. I’ll let you work. Keep me posted, please.”

  She hung up. He had started thinking about Caroline again.

  11

  Uncertainty

  FIVE A.M. THEY HAD just sat down at the rectangular table in the office. Alexandre Becker was acting haughty. He was the boss and clearly wanted to mark his territory. Police officers were there to execute the magistrate’s orders. They carried out their investigation-related duties only when authorized by a commission rogatoire mandate. It was up to the magistrate to give more or less independence to the police, as he saw fit. Nico did not like the man’s sense of self-importance. But he knew that his personal feelings shouldn’t come between the police and the justice system, and he had to keep them to himself.

  “Let’s get going and be practical,” he said. “I suggest we review the investigation and set up a plan of action.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Deputy Chief Rost? Did you get anything from questioning the neighbors?”

  “Zilch. The girl most probably opened the door to her murderer. There is no sign of breaking and entering, no suspicious noises in the building. Nobody saw or heard anything.”

  “What about the husband’s schedule? And Glucksman’s?” Nico asked.

  “Trajan is in such a state of shock that we still haven’t been able to question him,” Joël Théron said. “He was taken to the hospital, where he is under police guard. I’ll call his office in the morning. Glucksman is off the hook. We checked and confirmed that he was on a business trip. Two of his colleagues were with him all day. His wife has a shop, and she decided to take the day off.”

  “And Valérie Trajan?”

  “She was a pharmacist and worked in a drugstore four days a week,” Théron said. “She didn’t work on Wednesdays, a habit she established with the expectation of having children.”

  Nico continued. “What did Walberg have to say about the killer’s writing?”

  “The two messages are by the same person,” Rost said. “It has been confirmed that he is left-handed. But there is a notable difference. Now there are peaks, trembling and a greater contact angle.”

  “Which means?” Cohen questioned, impatient.

  “The writing is less regular, showing more nervousness or excitement.”

  “I want Walberg to compare the writing with Dr. Alexis Perrin’s,” Nico ordered.

  “I think that is an excellent idea,” Cohen said.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Deputy Chief Rost said.

  “And what about the Trajan apartment search?” Nico asked.

  “Nothing,” Rost said, disappointed. “All we got was confirmation that Valérie Trajan was somewhat disorderly by nature and that it is certainly the murderer who arranged the slippers, as you suggested right away. They are in the lab, along with her clothing and shoes. Oh, and I didn’t find any contact lenses.”

  “That’s impossible. Did you look everywhere?” Nico asked.

  “In every corner. I understood that it was important. And Florence Glucksman said that Valérie Trajan never had any problems with her eyesight.”

  “That’s odd. Professor Vilars found a contact lens on the victim’s left eye and not on the right one.”

 
“I have the solution to this mystery,” Kriven said. “The lab found a contact lens in the trace evidence picked up by Vidal’s vacuum. He called five minutes before the meeting to let me know. The lab is comparing the two, along with DNA from both of them.”

  “The most plausible explanation is that Valérie Trajan lost a contact when she was attacked,” Nico suggested. “But why didn’t we find other contacts in her home, and why did her friend say she had perfect vision? We need to ask her husband. Furthermore, a lock of blond hair was left for us between her breasts. The police forensics lab is examining it. We’ll have the first results concerning the brown hair we found on the knife used to kill Chloé Bartes in the morning. As for the blood used by the criminal to write the message, it is very likely to be the victim’s, but we have to check.”

  Nico paused. He did not want to monopolize the meeting or take the lead when that was, in theory, his boss’s job or the investigating magistrate’s.

  “Has there been any progress on the rope and the fisherman’s knot?” Alexandre Becker asked, showing that he was familiar with the case.

  “The same batch of rope was used in the first two cases,” Nico said. “The fisherman’s knots were made by a left-handed person. Théron, do you have anything from the third case?”

  “It’s a lefty again and the same kind of knot. The rope is being tested.”

  “The victim’s breasts were amputated again,” Nico said, “and exchanged with Chloé Bartes’. And, finally, the autopsy proved that Trajan was one month pregnant.”

  “How is that possible?” Judge Becker shouted. “The killer obviously has access to confidential medical information. In any case, since they only recently got pregnant, that means that he chooses the victims not very long before committing the crime. So he prepares quickly, yet he is in total control of place and time elements surrounding the victims and people close to them. Trajan didn’t work that day, and he knew. And this Alexis Perrin? Is he our prime suspect?”

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “Dr. Perrin is Chief Sirsky’s brother-in-law,” Cohen said. “It’s a strange coincidence, particularly because the murderer decided to target Nico directly in the messages he is leaving. So let’s slow down. The killer is surely setting a trap. Of course, that puts us in an uncomfortable position. For the time being, Nico stays on the investigation. He’s the head of the brigade criminelle, and we need his experience. Furthermore, taking him off the case is what the killer wants.”