“Me. A trade.”
“Easy. I’ve already seen that. I’m not interested in men. Not even your son. I could have taken him, though, you know? He looks so much like you. That would have been amusing. But you see, I barely even thought about it. I must admit that Caroline was convincing, pushing me to take her and leave him. Of course, I had come only for her.”
“That is all I have to offer: me.”
“What do you think she thinks about that? Let’s ask.”
Fiori slid his hand along the young woman’s face and ripped off the duct tape, freeing her to talk. Caroline grimaced.
“So, Dr. Dalry,” the killer said. “What do you think? Should I kill him in exchange for your life?”
“No.”
He didn’t call her by her first name, and Nico realized how ill at ease he was with her, even if he did everything he could to hide it.
“Caroline, shut up!” Nico said.
“Ouch, a lover’s quarrel,” Fiori chuckled. “Already fighting, off to a bad start.”
“If I’m the one you want, then force him to go away, and let’s get this over with,” Caroline said.
“Please, not that!” Nico reacted, throwing her a chastening look.
“This is a real dilemma,” Fiori said. “I’m going back and forth between the two of you.”
His gun was still pointed at Caroline’s temple. Nico had hoped he would lower his guard. If he tried anything rash, he risked losing everything. There was only one solution, to keep him talking, to play for time and find some weakness. But the minutes were passing, bringing them closer to an end he couldn’t bear.
“Wait, I have a little idea that will help me think,” the coroner said.
He thrust his hand down Caroline’s shirt and fondled her breasts. Nico read disgust in the young woman’s eyes and took a step forward, ready to swoop down on Fiori.
“Hey! Step back. I decide everything. You can’t stop me. Be happy to watch. Imagine me cutting them off. How good that would be.”
“She’s not your mother, Eric. Leave her alone.”
“My loins are filled with burning, And there is no soundness in my flesh,” the criminal recited.
“Fight that burning!” Nico cried out in despair.
Fiori broke out in laughter and pulled his hand away from the woman’s chest. He looked truly demented and was losing control. Nico felt a quiver run down his spine. The killer straightened his arm, and Nico saw his finger tighten on the trigger.
“No,” he threw himself forward with all his strength.
The shot burst like a bomb, ringing through the entire apartment, causing the walls to shake. Nico felt his muscles go weak, as though his legs were no longer holding him up. He was going to fall. Sweat dripped down his back. His thoughts went cloudy, the situation was out of his control. He was not that strong after all. He was losing the round. Soon, he didn’t have enough air and realized that he couldn’t breathe. The room was spinning, the red letters danced in front of him, like a threat. But he was too late, he heard Caroline scream. He would never be able to prove to her how much he loved her.
21
The 7th Woman
THE GUNSHOT CAUSED THEM all to jump. They had evacuated the building. Rost and Kriven stood in front of the entrance to the apartment and were doing everything in their power to remain steady.
Caroline’s scream made their blood run cold. Silence settled in. Outside, Théron and Vidal had climbed up to the balcony and were hiding behind the closed shutters. The old rusted panels would be easy to open. They were just waiting for orders from Rost. Thanks to their earpieces, Théron stayed in constant communication with his superior officer, and he could hear his breathing accelerate after the shot was fired. They had to try something. Fiori was crazy and wouldn’t let Caroline and Nico out unharmed. Backup would be here any minute, but that might be too late. Who was the shot intended for?
“Can you get into the room?” Rost whispered into Théron’s ear.
“Yes.”
“Good, go ahead. Quietly. Kriven and I will go in the door.”
Théron signaled to Vidal, who nodded, clearly relieved. Théron broke the hooks that held the shutters closed and opened them quietly. The two then went in, passing the elderly couple lying stiff on the bed. They advanced, the carpet muffling their footsteps.
At the front, Rost gently pushed the door open. He looked through the crack, making sure that no one had seen him. Behind him, Kriven waited impatiently. They stole into the apartment, gripping their weapons. They had agreed earlier on the best way to corner the killer. The most worrisome part was the heavy silence. What was happening? Were Nico and Caroline both still alive?
BECKER couldn’t stand it anymore. It was unbearable to be there, pacing around the police car. Even if he couldn’t intervene, he felt personally involved. Hadn’t the killer provoked him by revealing his secret and making him the ideal suspect? But most of all, he was thinking about Chief Sirsky. That man who had seemed so cold and sure of himself had become likable. This case had brought them closer, and the nascent friendship he felt for him was shared. It was unacceptable to him that a killer challenge a policeman and threaten to kill the woman he loved. But his worry was mixed with hope. These policemen were the best France had. They would come through this. Or else there was no justice.
CAROLINE’S eyes were filled with tears. Her lips trembled. Her face was pale. The bonds were hurting her skin. Yet, she sat straight, as if to confront the situation better. She was magnificent, and right to the end he would fight for her. He clenched his teeth, fighting the pain that was asphyxiating him and remained standing. Blood ran down the leg the bullet had crossed through. This was not the first time he had been a target, but it was the first time he had been hit, and it was at close range.
“Congratulations!” Fiori mocked. “Chief Sirsky in the role of the strapping, courageous hero. So, doctor, were you afraid? He wanted me to shoot him over you so much, I couldn’t let him down.”
“You bastard,” Nico muttered. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“But I don’t give a damn! Give me a single good reason to continue living.”
“Let her go.”
“No way. Did I tell you about Captain Ader? No. You should have seen the look on her face when she realized. She defended herself well, better than the others. She made things a little difficult for me. She suffered terribly, as you well imagine. She kept her head on longer than the other girls. A real pleasure.”
“You make me sick!”
“Now, now, control yourself.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Stop.”
“You only attack the weak. You’ve got no balls.”
“Stop it right now, or I’ll hit your other leg.”
“I’m sure you never gave a woman pleasure. A premature ejaculator, right? What did your wife think about that? She didn’t get enough, did she? Maybe she looked somewhere else.”
“You’re stupid. I’m going to kill you.”
“Is that so? You think you’re God, but you’re just a shit. A dirty fucking bastard.”
Caroline’s opened her eyes wide with incomprehension. Nico was wounded, he was losing blood and that upped the pressure. She was afraid he was putting himself in too much danger. She didn’t want the killer to shoot him again. Maybe she could get his attention. Create a diversion to protect Nico. Tip the chair over and fall to the floor. The killer would be furious, and that was exactly what she wanted. He would target her, which would give Nico the small opportunity to react. The tension was so high, a single movement could cause a tragedy.
THEY all heard what was being said. They understood immediately that Nico had changed his strategy. Since empathy didn’t work, and time was of the essence, he had decided to attack the killer head on. It was dangerous, but he didn’t have a choice. They needed to be ready to intervene. Maybe Nico would give them a signal. He knew that his team was still there and read
y to jump in, weapons in hand. There was no going back.
“AND you know what?” Nico screamed. “I lied to you earlier. I fucked Caroline. She was great. But she’s not for you. You couldn’t play with her the way you played with the other women. You’re pathetic. In the end, I’m the one who fooled you.”
The blood drained from Fiori’s face. He lips expressed some kind of disgust. Nico had stung him.
“Armelle Vilars never wanted to sleep with you. She told me,” Nico said. “It made her laugh that you wanted her. She was sure you were a bad lay. You are a bad lay, Fiori! A sexual neurotic! A loser who doesn’t know how to make a woman come. An incompetent. You prefer to tie them up and stare at them.”
“Shut up! Shut up, or I’ll kill her.”
“Is that so? And what if you started with me?”
“You’re pissing me off, Sirsky.”
“You’re not calling me by my first name anymore, Fiori? Are we no longer friends? You’re right, I’ve got nothing to do with a dirty slimeball like you.”
Nico felt he strength draining from him. His only goal was to try everything he could before it was too late. His men were there; he knew it. He just had to say the word, and they would spring into the room. The moment was nearing. It was a gamble. But he trusted his team. They would respond, or he would die with Caroline. Thoughts of Dimitri filled his mind. Did he have the right to abandon his son? What would he become? Had he told him that he loved him enough times? Had he told him how proud he was of the man he was becoming?
There was doubt on the killer’s face. He needed to gather his thoughts. Nico knew that he had to keep up the pressure
“I’ve figured it out! Your fucking mother made you impotent! That’s it. Go ahead. Say it.”
The weapon was pointing at him. Fiori was about to shoot when the chair started tipping and fell on its side. Nico desperately tried to catch Caroline’s eyes. She had distracted the killer.
“Go!” Nico cried when a second shot rang out.
THAT was the signal.
Kriven shouldered the door violently and threw his body forward. He spotted Fiori and shot without hesitation. At the same time, Rost burst into the living room with Théron and Vidal behind him. Dr. Dalry was lying on the ground; it was impossible to tell if she was dead. He saw that Nico was still standing. Fiori had the chief in his sights. Rost pulled the trigger.
NICO kept his balance for a moment. The truth was that he could no longer feel his leg. But he couldn’t say where the second bullet had hit. He felt pulled. He wanted to apologize to his entire family, to his son and to Caroline, too. If he hadn’t crossed paths with her, she would never have been part of this tragedy. Would she ever manage to forget? He hoped so.
Two more shots shook him, stirring the air around him. His leg gave out. He collapsed. He stared at Fiori as he was falling. The killer swayed, his eyes wide with surprise. Two blood stains spread across his sweater. Two wounds. He toppled backward, as if in slow motion, and hit the floor, smashing a group of crystal vases that had been set there by the elderly tenants.
He tried to keep a grasp on reality. He saw Caroline wriggle to undo the ropes. She crawled over to him on her knees. She examined him and shouted out incomprehensible orders. She was calling him back to life.
His men were moving around him. They slapped him on the face, not holding back. He preferred the young woman’s touch. She was alive.
The son of a bitch would not have his seventh woman. He felt happy. The outline of the bodies leaning over him blurred. The voices became more distant. As in a dream, he imagined his son, that baby he had held tenderly in his arms. Everything started accelerating. There he was running at his side, telling him how to steer his bike. Multicolored balloons flew overhead. He heard Dimitri’s laughter ring out. His son encouraged him to grab the yellow one, the blue one, the red one, the green one. He was calling him back to life.
Was he going to die?
No, not now that he had Caroline.
He would fight.
About the Author
WRITING has always been a passion for Frédérique Molay, author of the international bestseller The 7th Woman. She graduated from France’s prestigious Science Po and began her career in politics and the French administration. She worked as chief of staff for the deputy mayor of Saint-Germain-en-Laye and then was elected to the local government in Saône-et-Loire. Meanwhile, she spent her nights pursuing a passion for writing she had nourished since writing her first novel at the age of eleven. After The 7th Woman took France by storm, Frédérique Molay dedicated her life to writing and raising her three children. She has five books to her name, with three in the Chief Inspector Nico Sirsky series.
About the Translator
© Lebenoist
ANNE Trager has lived in France for more than 26 years, working in translation, publishing and communications. In 2011, she woke up one morning and said, “I just can’t stand it anymore. There are way too many good books being written in France not reaching a broader audience.” That’s when she founded Le French Book to translate some of those books into English. The company’s motto is, “If we love it, we translate it,” and Anne loves crime fiction.
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