His quarry just cantered across the diagonal, continuing a dressage test that the hunter must know.
“Loup to Ouistiti, I'll take him out after his second shot, if you've recorded the evidence footage? Over.”
“Ouistiti to Loup, enough. Be quick. Renarde is not taking this too well, over.”
Loup levelled his double-barrelled tranquiliser rifle on Roman, but there was no second thunk. Roman scrambled off the ledge, dropping his gun as he fell into the river. Renarde vanished among the trees.
Faucon ran across the arena.
“Faucon to Zoos, hold positions. Watch for the other intruders.” He jumped into the water and waded to the prone figure. “He’s conscious, but sweating badly.”
“Maudit, wasps.”
Armand heard the burst of Québécois as Faucon dragged Roman ashore.
Armand stepped onto the ledge. There was no sign of any insects, just scattered rocks and vegetation thrown aside as Roman had panicked. Perhaps some overhanging thorns spooked him. Except for a game hunter, that was unlikely. Checking over the area, he took his time, although he was aware of being watched, although it didn’t feel like a threat, yet. A slender twig drew him, half-hidden by kidney vetch, and he palmed it before climbing down the cliff.
“Loup to Zoos, unknown intruder and Bête active. Secure area. Mouflon and Blanculet, cover ridge. Oreillard and Furet, hike east. Taking intruder into barn with Faucon, over.”
Roman staggered as they steered him inside. His face was bleeding, and he was gasping. Red welts had appeared on his right arm.
Armand asked, “Did you intend to hit Carly, or were you aiming at the horse?”
“Just the horse. The slut means nothing. So, I hit it?”
“No, you missed.”
Roman scowled and shook his head.
“We’ll get her. A bookworm playing soldiers won’t stop us.”
“Blinded by the books. No wonder you remained a corporal if you can’t recognise a Capitaine.”
As Roman stared, the gendarme handcuffed him, and after reading him his rights, the gendarme led Roman away.
Armand put his arms around Carly. “How are you, Vix?”
“I’m okay, just shaken up watching myself being shot at by that bastard. Can't promise not to have nightmares, Ouistiti's holograms are realistic.”
How do I admit that someone more dangerous is out there? Is it Lina? Has science blinded me? All I’ve done is reveal our capability to the real enemy.
Armand hugged Carly, hoping that she would not detect his apprehension. Her heart was already thumping against his chest, and he was unable to do more.
“Blanculet to Zoos. We spotted a shaking bush below the ridge, and Mouflon leapt on a cowering intruder. Bête de-activated, over.”
“Mouflon to Zoos. Being back in action is good. Or maybe the Cevennes air has got to me again. Bringing Bête in. Over and out.”
Carly’s smile was a relief as she said, “Poor Mick, can’t even sneak away unseen. Must have been waiting for nightfall.”
FIFTY-FIVE
The evening light was dying and the night was encroaching as Carly tried to accept her tiredness was mental as well as physical. Loup’s arm was around her, letting her head rest on his shoulder as they drank French coffee in the kitchen with the Zoos. Her mind was finding ease at last—until the phone rang.
Ouistiti took the call and then said, “It was the gendarmerie to say Roman died in his cell. The doctor says it was anaphylaxis, a severe allergic reaction to multiple wasp stings. But he said most people are not allergic to wasp stings to that degree. If Roman were allergic to wasps, he would have died sooner without treatment following such an intense level of attack.”
“Unless they weren’t wasps,” said Loup as he placed a plain wooden box, about 16 centimetres long, onto the table.
He paused, then continued. “Someone wanted him dead. A cunning killer, the real Bête.” He reached inside revealing some pieces of wood. Plain straight slithers without any foliage. He passed them to Ouistiti. “I found these on the ledge. As we suspected, someone else was out there.”
“So, as we thought, we had a third intruder, the one that jammed the camera.”
“Faucon said the Irish quarry was poorly trained, and Mouflon caught Mick sneaking away. He may be in jail, but the real killer used this. The pieces would have degraded like any bit of wood, just like the bolt that killed Odette Fédon...”
“So, Mick wasn’t responsible for your cousin’s murder,” said Carly. “Lina killed her to get her hands on Gilles. Now she wants Wanda alive, but my life...”
“Supposition I'm afraid, though possible.” Ouistiti was piecing the slivers together. “They’re part of a dart. It’s incomplete, but it carried a payload, like a MIRV. Sorry, Carly, that means a missile payload containing several warheads, each capable of hitting different targets. In this case, the dart had minuscule thorns perhaps—pseudo wasp stings.”
Ouistiti passed the pieces to her husband, who studied them. “You’re right. It’s your assassin, Loup. A tranquilliser gun by this rifling. The stings were all down his right side. But, why kill Roman?”
Carly’s hopes of competing again vanished. Wanda’s life was still under threat. The Zoos and the refuge had been exposed.
Armand pulled down a whiteboard from the ceiling.
“I think we’ll find the wasp venom was modified to react with Roman’s system. Someone who had access to his DNA created the toxin. The dart was personalised.”
“Had his name on it,” said Furet. “Who could do that?”
“That snake Lina took mine!” said Carly. “She’s totally responsible, that vindictive—”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“She knows all my weaknesses. She’s the killer, and she’s framing Mick.”
“Women make excellent sportsmen and soldiers, but statistically, most female assassins are fanatics or terrorists,” said Blanculet. “Would this Lina want Roman out of the way? What’s her agenda?”
Carly resisted her gut response and let Armand write down all the incidents on the whiteboard: Odette Fédon’s murder in Québec, Gilles’s suicide in Norfolk, the attempt on Carly’s life in Sussex, and now the assassination of Roman.
“We have to re-assess the evidence, for these four hits.” Armand added the timings, the conditions and the victims.
I was nearly the fourth.
The others added details, many echoing the list that Loup had discussed with Carly.
“The MO for at least three is the same,” said Faucon, highlighting the features before he looked around the gathered Zoos, then at Carly. “Sorry, Carly, what I mean is the modus operandi or the way in which the killer works is the same.”
Addressing the Zoos again, he added, “With today’s murder, we know that the killer is resourceful, furtive and well trained. He evaded our monitors and took one out without detection. Plus, skiing, rock-climbing, scuba diving—that’s a familiar package.”
“For an elite soldier,” said Furet.
“But he let Roman shoot at Wanda and me. Why?”
“Because he saw the hologram flickering through the trees,” said Ouistiti. “I felt that was a flaw, but I needed more time to perfect the image.”
Loup put an arm around her. “No regrets. It worked. The assassin wanted Roman to squirm, to feel a failure, and he did.”
“But Loup, which of your suspects fits?”
“Someone that wants Wanda alive. So, Mick and Lina—although they must have different agendas. Mick only acted concerned about Roman when you caught him, Mouflon.”
“Yes, and he’s saying nothing useful to the gendarmerie and the only thing they can charge him for is trespass.”
“Oreillard and I scoped him in Ireland, where he wasn’t too furtive. Can they hold him for that?”
They laughed as Armand said, “Sadly, lack of stealth is not a crime. Did he say anything once in custody, Ouistiti?”
“He claim
ed he was checking on Wanda’s performance, as he’s been doing at other places.”
“Technically the law allows the gendarmerie to hold him for four days without charge. Up to four years once he’s charged,” said Mouflon.
“As I feared, somehow, we must pressure for the maximum so that we can concentrate on our furtive assassin.”
“Poor Mick, he flunked cadet training and now this. He’s everyone’s scapegoat. Surely Lina’s involvement with gangs gives her the right experience?”
“She told me about that as well,” said Loup. “It means she should be capable of using a weapon.”
Ouistiti pointed to the darts. “But these? I’d guess these were covert munitions. Who would have access to these?”
Armand pointed at one name. “A salesman with contacts, territorial army training alongside regular army, and a corporation backing him. Also, Mick had extensive technical expertise judging by everything I found at his house. Plus, he also ran the Vidarranj website and was capable of framing Lina for the hit and run.”
Everything was pointing back to Mick, and despite Carly’s character observations, Lina was slipping away when her guilt was so obvious.
“But Lina was a scientist,” said Carly. “She took the DNA and could have stolen blood, hairs or any material from Boissard Biotech when she was alone at Fenburgh. And she hated anyone standing in her way.”
“Renarde is right,” said Faucon, looking over his wife’s shoulder as she switched on her laptop. “Ouistiti, did you find anything more on Vidarranj’s website, to implicate her, or Mick?”
“There are two encrypted links to further details. Until Hareng Rouge finishes its task, all I can tell you is that the programme is classified, as Project Pegasus.”
“Horses that can fly like the wind, clever but disturbing codename.”
“They have to resolve the speed-anatomy dilemma,” said Ouistiti and looking around at some confused faces added, “Carly’s the practical scientist, she can explain.”
"Well, unlike human athletes, horses’ speeds are restricted by their anatomy. They’re a near-perfect balance between lungs, heart and muscle. Stamina, however, can be improved, and their ability to handle stress too—using the illegal DNA and cloning, perhaps.”
As the others talked about the implications, her mind sifted through scraps of classical knowledge. Could the password be the hero associated with Pegasus? But what was his name?
Faucon interrupted her thoughts by putting Roman’s rifle onto the table.
“We need to find the dart from this gun. Whoever Roman meant by ‘we’ will probably use the same payload. Loup and I will locate the dart at first light. Oreillard and Furet, look for our third interloper’s vantage, the angle of shot might be critical. Mouflon, back on sheep herding—watch out for strays.”
Carly needed to sleep—if the nightmares didn’t come. Guinness laid his head on her lap, and she stroked it, comforting them both.
“There is one other suspect, I’m afraid,” said Faucon. “Loup, you were tracking the ex-Boissard horses, you said.”
“The ones from Hazelmead that Vecheech bought returned via Calgary. I could only track them until a local agent arranged their onward journey to a ranch. But there hasn’t been time to check the tracker inside the saddle and tack trunks.”
“Do we know if this ranch was always a Vecheech one? Could it have been a Boissard one?”
Carly didn’t want this to continue. Her gut instinct told her it wasn’t what she needed to hear.
“Not sure. We only know it’s somewhere in the Rockies.”
“My God, the ranch Gilles dreamed of, but he’s dead. You told me, Loup.” Carly tried to hold back the tears. “Okay, he was a two-faced unfaithful bastard, but I knew his heart. So did you, Loup. He isn’t a killer, please. Just leave him dead. That’s bad enough.”
“Relax, Renarde. I wasn’t meaning Gilles.”
“So, Faucon, who is this mystery suspect?”
“Patrick Harfang or someone he hired to help consolidate his takeover of Boissard Équestre. He may have given you his share of Wanda, but Vecheech owns the foals and some of her DNA. Plus, the terms favour Vecheech.”
“But we know nothing about him,” said Carly.
“Except that he has numerous enterprises, extensive contacts and as a recluse,” said Armand. “That means he could be—”
“—An ex-soldier,” said Faucon. “We need more about him.”
Even as Armand agreed and Ouistiti continued her searches, Carly feared what might emerge. The assignments had been so neat and so planned that Gilles could be alive even if he hadn't contacted her. Why would Harfang kill Roman? Vecheech had everything of value that Boissard Équestre owned. How many killers were there still waiting for her outside?
Bramham and her dream of proving Wanda’s real potential was now dead.
FIFTY-SIX
As morning trickled through the trees, Carly was sleeping soundly on Armand’s shoulder. Tresses of hair tumbled onto his chest as she turned over.
Armand had slept fitfully, and for at least an hour he had been listening to the dawn approaching, waiting for these first glimmers of light. He watched Carly breathing deeply and gently and then reviewed his dilemma.
She wanted to be competing. She needed to be competing. It was her life. But there was still at least one killer out there, and another that the gendarmerie would release within four days—during Bramham, the event Carly insisted she had to compete at. Lina and Mick both fitted the modus operandi and in a twisted way had motives.
Carly stirred but only turned over. The birds were now in full song. Should he wake Carly so she could feed the horses, or let her sleep?
She’s going to be stressed by the threat and wanting to compete. She needs to ride and work Wanda, at least.
It was good if she stuck to her routine. Five minutes, then he would tease her awake. It was probably safe to school today, although she would want to explore another draille, they couldn’t leave the secured area.
I want her back in her world. I need normality. I had abandoned army life, but now I’ve chosen to embrace everything I had rejected. It’s what I needed.
Bramham—they needed at least twenty hours to get there.
It’s too much of a gamble. No way can we leave tonight.
It would be safer for her to prepare for Gatcombe in five weeks. The selectors would understand if she delayed her return.
*
This was frustrating for horse and rider. Schooling indoors had its limitations; Wanda needed more hill work. Until the Zoos had neutralised all the suspects, this was the only option Armand could allow. Even though Blanculet had helped perfect the indoor rider workouts, Bramham on Thursday looked impossible.
Merde, I wanted them to have the chance. They’re looking so good.
He watched as Carly finished her circuit on Wanda, then rode up and looked at him on the raised seating as she said, “So, you still say no then. It would mean everything to me.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“With me as bait, we caught Roman and Mick. That worked.”
“Not again. The... assassin is too smart. He or she has killed three times.”
Carly dismounted, hitched Wanda to a railing and sat beside him. He poured her a mug of coffee from the flask.
“I’m not bait. I’m the next victim. Why? What do I have in common with Odette Fédon? Who was she?”
His eyes closed. Carly wanted him to remember. Visualise the past. Clever, find the missing jigsaw pieces.
“My second cousin. My father’s mother was from Québec.”
“You’re part Québécois? My god, did Gilles know? Lina?”
“Never, only the Zoos, and now you.”
He cupped her head in his hands and kissed her. She deserved to know everything since he wanted to share his soul with her.
“So, you were studying in Canada as you had family there. Did Odette introduce you to the others?”
“Québec was my escape from France, and yes, Odette knew about my wife. Merde, she talked about the grooming job at Du Noroît, before I did my PhD. She was ecstatic about the stud, at first.”
Carly held him closer, stroking his head.
“So, neither of you knew anything about Roman and the problems?”
“Not until I moved there when Gilles and Lina graduated. Odette and I kept our kinship secret. There was too much to explain, especially with Roman suspecting everything. He’d have fired her, or he’d have found out and...”
“No, you would have been killed as well. But the accident, what did you see? Feel it.”
He concentrated and let his mind go, feeling safe as Carly was there if the trauma returned.
“A figure in white with a crossbow...” He rewound the memory to the moment before he left the cabin. “I told Lina where I was going, that I had to see someone.”
“Odette? About what?”
“She needed to talk. She sounded worried, and I presumed it was about Roman as usual.”
“Or it could have been about the baby.”
“Or about the cloning. We have to tell the others, now.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
Armand had added the words “Knew about Odette Meeting” to the whiteboard in the kitchen.
“Until now, the evidence has pointed at Mick as our killer, which was convenient for Lina. Now, she is my prime suspect and fits the profile. She has the motive, opportunity and skills: skiing, jogging, martial arts, technical proficiency and gang survival. She’s more than a scientist. Prove me wrong.”
The Zoos studied the data.
Carly prayed they endorsed her gut feeling.
“Oreillard and I found the second shooter site, a lone marksman,” said Furet. “I’ll let her explain. I need to relieve Mouflon on watch.”
Armand shook his head. “Merde, three intruders and we spot one. We’re getting old and incompetent. No wonder they retired us.”
“Except you guys kept me alive. You flushed out and stopped Roman. Mick’s in jail. So, one lonely viper left.”
Spiral of Hooves Page 21
