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Lost

Page 23

by Lucy Wadham


  ���Did you sleep?��� she asked.

  ���A little.��� Stuart���s dream came and went. He turned round. ���You?���

  She nodded.

  He touched his forehead: ���Your head okay?���

  She ran her fingers over the bruise.

  ���It���s fine.��� She scratched her arm. ���Do you think they���ll take the money?���

  Perhaps this was her making conversation.

  ���Yes,��� he said. ���I do.���

  She stared at him, but this time he did not look away. Her face flushed and he saw her swallow. She looked down and he thought she might cry.

  He took what coffee there was, found two cups and set them on the table. She watched him pour, still scratching her arm.

  ���Mosquitoes,��� she said.

  He sat down beside her. She took a sip of coffee.

  ���When the next call comes you tell them you���re finding the rest,��� he said. ���Keep the tone you had last night. It was good.���

  She put the cup down and listened. There again was the child in her. She must have always done everything right in her life; hence the question he sometimes caught in her eyes: What have I done?

  ���They���ll only consider negotiating with someone who���s in control,��� he went on. She considered this a moment, then drained her cup. ���You take your car to Santini���s,��� he said. ���Like we said. I���ll be waiting outside. You won���t see me, but I���ll be there.���

  She nodded.

  ���Make him feel you���re depending on him. Maintain whatever thrill he���s getting out of helping you.���

  Stuart regretted the tenor of the remark, but her expression did not change. He could see the faint stripe running down the middle of her smooth forehead, a shadow of the vein that marked her distress.

  ���You think he���s killed two people in one week. First the kidnapper and then the junkie.���

  ���I do.��� He finished his coffee, now cold. He was aware of her watching him.

  ���Your colleague, Paul,��� she said. ���He doesn���t like women very much, does he?���

  Stuart looked at the freckle on her lip and then turned away.

  ���I���ve never thought about it. You may be right. Yes. You���re right.���

  ���They admire you,��� she said.

  Stuart realised that she pitied him. He smiled, stood up and took the cups to the sink.

  ���I���ll go and get dressed,��� she said.

  He nodded, keeping his back to her as she left the room.

  *

  At six G��rard came for his shift. As Stuart climbed into his car, Alice appeared just behind him. She was barefoot on the gravel path. She rested her hands on the open window. She was wearing the same blue dress she had worn when they met.

  ���Will you call me straight after Santini���s?��� she asked.

  ���Of course.���

  He turned the ignition key and she stepped back. In his wing mirror he watched her turn and walk towards the house. As he drove out through the iron gates he felt a sense of purpose entirely unfamiliar to him.

  On the way down the hill he called Christine Lasserre. He had begun to feel uncomfortable every time he thought of her and was about to hang up when he heard her voice.

  ���Madame.���

  ���Where have you been?��� Her voice was low and calm. Stuart wound up the window. He still did not know how much he would tell her.

  ���Did you get the report from ballistics?��� he asked.

  ���Yes. What are you doing, Stuart?���

  ���Going into the office.���

  ���What���s going on?���

  ���The new kidnappers called last night at two a.m. They asked for thirty million.���

  Lasserre was silent.

  ���This is quite a different case,��� she said at last.

  ���Why? Why is it different? It���s the same case.���

  ���What���s the matter with you, Stuart?���

  ���Nothing.���

  There was another pause.

  ���Do you have anything on the first group?���

  ���The boat was dumped in Rimini. The Italians are looking for two members of the Camora. Brothers.���

  ���Do we know them?���

  ���No.���

  ���Do you trust the Italians?���

  ���Yes. We have a good relationship. It���s one of the things that���s been held against me, my relationship with the Italians.���

  ���Stuart, could you talk to me as if I weren���t your enemy for a moment? It���s very tiring. I���d like to know what you think.���

  ���You know what I think.���

  ���Tell me again,��� she said.

  ���Where���s Mesguish?���

  ���At the commissariat. Awaiting your instructions. Like the rest of us.���

  ���Did you see his report?���

  ���I did.��� She paused but Stuart kept quiet. ���He wants Central Office to transfer the case to Paris. Zanetecci is seriously considering it.���

  ���So what���s stopping them?���

  ���I am.���

  ���Why?���

  ���Stop being childish. Your job is to keep me informed.���

  Stuart hesitated. He was too isolated without Lasserre.

  He took the short-cut through the industrial zone in the eastern suburbs of Massaccio. Ahead of him was a huge grain silo like a great pink cathedral in the dawn sun.

  ���We picked up a conversation between Madame Aron and Santini,��� he told her.

  ���What do you mean ���picked up���?���

  ���On the scanner.���

  ���So it can���t be used,��� she said wearily.

  ���No.���

  ���And?��� she said.

  ���He told her not to worry. That he thought he knew who had Sam.���

  ���When?��� she asked.

  ���Just before we discovered Mickey.���

  ���What were his exact words?���

  ���He said, ���I think we might have them.������

  ���Too ambiguous. You can���t use it anyway,��� she said.

  ���Santini���s lent the woman nine million francs.���

  ���What did he do that for?���

  ���He ��� He likes her.���

  Lasserre let him wait.

  ���You think Santini had da Cruz killed, then took over the kidnapping using some of his people.��� Stuart saw her sitting there fingering that pendant of hers. ���Why?���

  ���He���s in trouble. The FNL are all over the place. They���re taking over some of the best clubs.���

  Stuart knew how unconvincing he sounded. He looked at the palm trees along the seafront and wound down the window. The air was close and there was no wind.

  ���You think he���s behind the new group, don���t you?���

  Stuart did not answer.

  ���Are you still there?���

  ���Yes,��� he said. He hoped she would go on.

  ���You opened a new file for the bombing. Why was that? Did you think it was linked?���

  ���No.���

  ���Do you now?��� she asked.

  ���I don���t know, but
I don���t think it���s a good idea to link them anyway. It just reduces our options.���

  ���What are you hiding, Stuart? I���m bored of guessing.���

  It was good to talk to somebody.

  ���I had Raymond in custody in connection with the bombing. As soon as I let him out someone went in and administered a rhinoceros���s fix of pure heroin. He was sleeping with Santini���s daughter.���

  Lasserre whistled.

  ���He���s careful. You���ll never get him for something like that.���

  ���We can squeeze him, though.���

  ���Probably not. Listen, Stuart. Use Lopez. Get him to do a story on Raymond.���

  ���Lopez is scared,��� he said.

  ���Send him to me.���

  ���All right.��� He opened the compound gates and drove through. ���I���m here.���

  ���Good. Keep me informed, Stuart. I���m on your side.���

  He hung up. As he opened the door of his car he heard the phone ringing in his office. He ran across the compound and up the steps. He punched out the door code. The ringing stopped.

  The Cesari boy was in the hall, standing beside the coffee machine waiting for it to deliver. He had been on night shift, monitoring calls. The boy plucked the plastic cup from the machine and held it out to Stuart.

  ���No. You have it.��� The boy hesitated. ���How was your night?��� Stuart asked him. ���Did you manage to get anywhere with that call?���

  The boy���s face brightened.

  ���It���s a mobile. I got the area. But it���s quite large.���

  ���Where is it?���

  ���In the hills behind the Palomba Rossa. The relay covers about fifty square kilometres. It���s mountainous, though, so Telecom can eliminate the areas that are unreachable.���

  ���Call Fabrice,��� Stuart said. ���He knows someone straight at Telecom. I���ve forgotten his name.���

  ���Commissaire Mesguish called just before you arrived. He���s coming at eight-thirty.���

  ���Anything else?���

  ���Someone called Santini at two-twenty a.m.���

  Stuart stared at Cesari.

  ���Where?���

  ���At the villa.���

  ���Why didn���t you tell me?���

  Cesari raised his arms and dropped them hopelessly at his sides.

  ���Sorry, Commissaire. I didn���t know ������

  ���Did you recognise them?���

  ���No, I didn���t.���

  ���No one you���ve ever heard before?���

  ���No.��� The Cesari boy looked worried.

  ���Can I hear it?���

  ���Yes, of course.��� The boy led the way, but the phone began to ring again. ���Commissaire,��� he said as Stuart turned away. ���I���m sorry about the other day. I don���t know how we lost him.���

  ���Forget it,��� Stuart said, heading towards his office. ���He���s easy to lose.���

  But it was not his number that was ringing: it was not Alice. He picked up the switchboard phone on Annie���s desk and pressed line one. The woman���s voice was familiar.

  ���Who is it?���

  Cesari was pointing at the ceiling to indicate that he was going back to the recording suite. Stuart nodded at him and watched him disappear through the swing doors. ���Who is this?���

  ���Search his villa,��� the woman was saying. ���Le Losange.���

  ���Is that you, Babette?���

  ���There���s a cache there.���

  ���A cache? Wait.���

  ���You want to put him away. Search Le Losange. There���s a big arms cache.���

  It was Liliane.

  ���What about the child? Liliane? Wait.���

  She had hung up. The light on the switchboard blinked and then went out. He had not even recorded the call.

  Stuart went into his office and closed the door. The room was dark. He went to his desk, turned on the anglepoise and began to look for his old notebook in the drawer. Liliane���s voice persisted in his head. He found a small black notebook with the red spine that contained Monti���s brother���s number. He dialled the number and waited. He could not stop smiling.

  ���Yes. Who is it?���

  Dominique Monti was abrasive but he was straight. When his little brother had been killed he had turned up in Stuart���s office and told him that if ever he needed any help dropping a black flag on Coco Santini, he just had to call.

  ���It���s Stuart.���

  ���What is it?���

  ���You said I could call you.���

  ���Yes. What is it?��� His voice was identical to his brother���s.

  ���Could you meet me at Santini���s villa in town?��� He looked at his watch. ���In an hour. Nine-fifteen. Do you know Le Losange?���

  ���I do.���

  ���Monti, I need a drill. Two of them. For floor and wall drilling.���

  ���No problem.���

  Stuart put the phone gently into its cradle and let his heart settle. He sat down behind his desk and leaned back in his chair. He had never had an opportunity like this and it would never come again. He sat staring into the light of the anglepoise, telling himself to think. At last he picked up the phone and called Paul. As he gave his instructions, he heard his own voice floating in the room. It struck him as remarkably calm and he listened to the words flowing out of him and his tone, more solemn than he felt because he wanted to laugh, and when Paul said, ���Okay, I���ll see you in an hour,��� Stuart heard the reverence in his voice.

  He called back Lasserre.

  ���I need to search Coco���s house.���

  ���Why?���

  ���Raymond���s murder. It could turn something up.���

  ���What���s happened? What have you got, Stuart?���

  He paused.

  ���Monti���s brother, Dominique,��� he said. ���He overheard something two nights ago at Enrico���s. I���ve just spoken to him.���

  ���You���re putting Raymond back in the file.���

  ���Yes.���

  ���What are you looking for?���

  ���It���s to put pressure on him.��� He hesitated. ���I���m taking Dominique Monti with me.���

  ���What for?���

  ���For his drill.���

  ���Stuart. What are you looking for?��� He didn���t answer. ���I said what are you looking for?���

  ���Nothing. I haven���t got anything. I need to scare him. You can understand that.���

  He heard Lasserre sigh.

  ���Thank you,��� he said. ���Thank you. I should go before he has time to shit and shave.���

  ���I���ll fax you the order now.���

  ���Thank you,��� he said again.

  ���Call me,��� she said. ���I���ll be at the tribunal from nine.���

  Stuart turned off the anglepoise and left his office. He found Cesari with his head on the desk, fast asleep. He reached over the boy and turned on the tape recorder. At the sound of the reel rewinding the boy sat bolt upright. Stuart held up his palm.

  ���Where is it? The call to Santini.���

  Cesari looked in the exercise book o
n the desk in front of him. He pointed to the time code.

  ���Here.���

  Evelyne���s voice was pristine for 2 a.m. Coco had clearly been asleep. Stuart listened to the short conversation three times but could not recognise the caller.

  ���Let���s see where the relay is.���

  Cesari carefully unfolded the map.

  ���Here,��� he said, pointing to the circle he had drawn in red crayon.

  ���Good. Thank you.��� Stuart noted down the reference. ���Make a copy and give it to Paul as soon as he comes in. We���re searching his villa this morning.���

  ���What do I tell Commissaire Mesguish?���

  ���Tell him I���m searching Le Losange. We have no secrets.��� He winked and the boy relaxed. ���Tell him to call me in my car.���

  He picked up Lasserre���s fax and ran out to his car to call Alice.

  ���Go to Santini���s villa now,��� he said. ���Tell him you couldn���t wait. Keep him talking; let him console you.���

  ���He doesn���t console.���

  ���Just try and keep him there. I���ll be there in less than an hour.���

  ���What���s happening?���

  ���We���re going to search his villa.���

  ���Why?���

  ���I���ll tell you later.���

  ���Is Sam there?���

  ���No, no. But he knows where he is and we���re going to get him to tell us. Alice?���

  ���Yes.���

  It was the first time he had said her name.

  ���I���ll tell you about it when I get there.���

  As he replaced the receiver and raised his hand to the ignition, last night���s dream rose to the surface. They were in the canteen at school; he recognised the white-tiled walls and he could hear the cries of the children as they ran down the stairs on their way into the refectory. She was clutching him, but he could not see her hands on his back nor could he see her face; he could only feel her breath on his neck and her hips pressing against his as she moved with him, and in his dream he closed his eyes and knew this was all the shelter he would ever find. As the children���s cries came closer he suddenly needed to see her face and he tried to shift so that he could see more than his own back working like an animal, but as he did so he felt her slip away and he was alone, naked, his forlorn penis waving at the blank wall and the children rushing in.

 

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