Unholy Ghost

by James Green

  Jimmy waited. He’d chosen his words carefully, now it was for his visitor to think and make a decision. It was still a tricky call. Jimmy had hung out his message through airport security in the hope it would find its way to this man, the policeman who kicked him out. He also hoped that Paris was no different to how London used to be, that the police and those who worked closely with the police looked after their own. It seemed they did because now the man was in his room.

  So far so good. But now he had to wait and see if this copper wanted to know why he was back. He needed him to be interested enough to want more, but not frightened enough to do anything silly, like have him killed. He wanted to bring him alongside. But would he come, or would he decide that Jimmy was too much of a risk? He needed to find a way into this thing and it only opened from the inside. He needed to acquire a friend for his side of the ledger, a friend who was part of that inside.

  So he waited to see which way his visitor would jump.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Parker and Henry International had a suite of offices on the thirty-first floor of the Tower Initiale. From the windows you got a view of the other, bigger, more modern skyscrapers that had sprouted up all over the district known as La Défense, the financial heart of Paris which, unlike London’s City, beat in its western suburbs.

  Nadine Heppert met him at the elevator. From a distance she looked in her early twenties, but close up you realised that a considerable part of that illusion was the way she was turned out. But the special effects were justified because even Jimmy, who was no expert on women’s fashion or beauty, could see she was something a little special.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Costello, thank you for coming.’

  Her English was excellent but with a background accent that didn’t sound French. Dutch? Belgian?

  ‘Thank you for fitting me in so quickly.’

  She led the way down a corridor to her office. They went in and sat down.

  ‘I fitted you in, Mr Costello, because if your time, like mine, is valuable I don’t want either of us to waste it.’

  ‘Waste it?’

  ‘Yes. You were asked to find the legal heir to the estate of Mme Colmar, were you not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That will no longer be necessary.’

  ‘You firing me?’

  ‘No. How could I do that? We never hired you. Any charges or fees you wish to claim for your services must be made to M. Joubert’s office or to the Sisters of Bon Secours, whichever you feel is your employer in the matter.’

  ‘So how come you’re telling me I’m surplus to requirements?’

  ‘Because we are handling the matter now and we have found the heirs to Mme Colmar’s estate.’

  ‘Heirs?’

  ‘Yes, two brothers, the sons of Mme Colmar’s daughter. She married a musician named Henry Budge when she was sixteen, they had two children, boys. There are no other known members of Mme Colmar’s family and, as the brothers’ parents are both dead, they are the nearest living relatives. We shall be processing a claim to the estate on their behalf. So you see, your services, though they are excellent I am sure, are no longer required in this matter.’

  ‘Are they black?’

  ‘Really, Mr Costello, their ethnicity is hardly any …’

  ‘The musician Colmar’s daughter ran off with was black.’ She tried, and failed, to keep the surprise out of her face. So, thought Jimmy, not so perfect after all. ‘Was this Henry Budge, who you say was supposed to be their father, black?’

  ‘There is no supposed about it. Mme Colmar’s daughter married Henry Louis Budge in the Baptist church in Choquette, Fern County, Florida in February 1951. They moved to Chicago in 1953 and the boys were born there in 1956 and 1958 at the city hospital. The papers are all in order, I assure you. We have been very thorough.’

  ‘I congratulate you, and considering you’ve only just taken over the case from M. Joubert, I’d say your success borders on the miraculous.’

  ‘Our head office in New York located the brothers. M. Joubert was acting for the sisters here in Paris. We were acting for parties in the United States. The two lines of enquiry crossed only recently.’

  It was crap, of course, and badly cobbled together, but that was good. It meant it had been done in a hurry which meant they weren’t expecting him and didn’t yet know how to deal with him.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to see the brothers for myself, maybe ask them a few questions, and see all the papers of course.’

  She took it well, nothing in the face or voice this time. Her story might be lousy but she wasn’t.

  ‘I’m sorry, I cannot see that you are entitled to any of what you propose and I cannot agree to it.’

  ‘You mentioned papers relating to the marriage and the births but you never mentioned death certificates for the parents or any will that either of them might have left.’

  ‘There were no wills.’

  ‘No wills?’

  ‘That is not at all uncommon.’

  ‘No, I suppose not. What about the death certificates?’

  She’d let him push her as far as she was going to.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not prepared to go any further, Mr Costello. As I said, I presume you value your time and don’t want it wasted. I assure you that pursuing the matter further would prove a complete waste of both time and effort. I had hoped to be of some assistance to you by providing you as promptly as possible with the information I have given, but if you decide to continue I must make it clear in the strongest possible terms that we intend to progress our clients’ claim and you must not expect any co-operation from this office in whatever inquiries you choose to make.’ She stood up. She was dismissing him. ‘Good day, Mr Costello.’

  Jimmy stayed seated.

  ‘What if I told you I had also found an heir to the estate?’

  She sat down slowly.

  ‘I would doubt it very much.’

  ‘Very much, eh? I wonder why?’

  She knew she’d made a mistake and he could see she didn’t like it. He could also see she blamed him for having provoked it. Now she was more guarded. Perhaps now she took him a little more seriously.

  ‘As I said, our New York office took considerable time to locate our clients and establish that they had a supportable claim. As I understand it you arrived in Paris only recently?’

  This woman wanted to know about him as much as he wanted to know about her so he decided to do a little fishing.

  ‘When I arrived in Paris doesn’t mean that’s when I started looking. New York isn’t the only place that’s been acting for parties other than the sisters and your American clients aren’t the only ones keen to get their hands on the Colmar estate, which , by the way, I would say is a more accurate description of both our efforts.’ He waited and let her play with the bait but she didn’t seem to want as to bite so he jiggled it about. ‘And I have to say I think we have more confidence in our claimant than you seem to have in yours.’ He tried to put on an accommodating smile. He couldn’t do it well and he knew it. That was why he did it. ‘If you make an official request, disclosing who it is you are acting for and your instructions in this matter, we would be happy to make a full disclosure of our client’s claim.’

  She bit.

  ‘And who is this supposed claimant?’

  Now he had to see how far he could play her.

  Jimmy shook his head.

  ‘Sorry. I can’t tell you anything about it without permission from my boss.’

  ‘Your boss?’

  ‘Yes, my boss.’

  ‘And your boss is?’

  ‘Sorry. I can’t tell you that without permission from my boss.’

  She was fighting hard but Jimmy could see she was hooked.

  ‘Oh really, Mr Costello. I asked you here with the best of intentions and you make absurd demands, then you invent this claimant and hide your lack of substance behind some fictional boss. On your own admission you were acting for t
he Sisters of Bon Secours and your only other contact was M. Joubert who, because of a regrettable accident, has now withdrawn from the matter. Do you really expect me to believe in some shadowy organisation which has an heir to the Colmar estate tucked away somewhere. Why, it took us over …’

  And she stopped.

  He’d landed her.

  ‘Yes? You were going to say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh no, surely not nothing. You were going to say how long it had taken you to find your boys and I got the impression it took some time.’ She remained silent. ‘Weren’t you?’ Still silence. But he had her. She’d made a slip, a bad one, and she knew it. ‘I tell you what. Let me see these brothers and ask them a few questions. You or anyone you like can be present. If you do that I’ll give you the name, date, and place of birth for our contender. That’s as far as I can go at the moment. If, after I’ve seen your boys, I think we might be able to do further business together I’ll get in touch with my boss and see what I can do.’

  She thought about it.

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘This person whom you call your boss. What is his interest in this matter?’

  ‘Sorry. I can’t …’

  ‘Tell me anything about that without his permission?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Do you have a contact number?’

  ‘For my boss? Really, I don’t think …’

  But she wasn’t in the mood for any jokes.

  ‘For yourself.’

  ‘Hotel Français, opposite the Gare de l’Est.’

  ‘A mobile?’

  ‘No, sorry, I don’t use one.’

  ‘I see.’

  She stood up again but this time it was a polite invitation to leave not the order of the boot.

  ‘Good day, Mr Costello. I will see what I can do, if anything. When I am in a position to do so I will get in touch to let you know one way or the other. Will that be satisfactory?’

  Jimmy stood up and smiled.

  ‘Sorry. I can’t tell you that without …’

  But she didn’t see any funny side.

  ‘Good day, Mr Costello.’

  Jimmy left the office. Once outside the building Jimmy took out his mobile and made a call.

  ‘Can we meet? I have something for you. There’s a bar I know.’ Jimmy described the location of the bar where he’d sat and looked at the rain on the morning of his arrival and meeting with the old nun. ‘Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  Back on the top floor Nadine Heppert was also making a phone call. She was speaking in German.

  ‘No it didn’t go well. It went damn badly. This guy is going to be trouble. Well that’s your problem so you’ll have to deal with it any way you can. What do you want me to do? My advice? My advice would be to let him see the brothers and ask his questions. If nothing else it gives us time, time for you to decide how you’re going to deal with him. My further advice would be that you get your homework done properly from now on. I was told he was a nobody who would fade as soon as things looked like getting tough for him. Well he didn’t fade and I don’t rate him as a nobody so I suggest you find out who the fuck he really is. I think it would be a help, a real help, if I knew a little something about the guy seeing as now I have to be the one stalling him, don’t you? OK. I’ll set up the meeting for a couple of days’ time.’

  She put down the phone.

  This wasn’t going to plan any more and she had developed a bad feeling about it. She would have to think about that. Yes, indeed, she would have to think about that very carefully. She picked up the phone again and told the switchboard to get her the head office in New York.

  The meeting with her visitor had gone badly and she needed to take it out on someone. Why not New York? Why not the stupid bastard who hadn’t bothered to check what colour Thèrése Colmar’s musician husband was?

  A voice came on the line and Nadine Heppert got ready to give someone hell, perfect hell.

  Chapter Twenty

  What’s your patch like?’

  ‘The usual, this and that, drugs, illegals, vice. The usual.’

  ‘That would be tough in a big city.’

  ‘In a big city which patch isn’t?’

  ‘Some are better than others.’

  ‘I’ll settle for what I’ve got.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  They were sitting in the bar overlooking the Seine where Jimmy had started. The man with him was a detective inspector, the one who had bounced him out of Paris. He was also the one who had turned up at his hotel as a result of Jimmy’s interview with airport security. His name was Serge Carpentier and in the hotel, Jimmy had told him about the convent, Joubert, and McBride, and as a result Carpentier had opened up a little. He’d been told to go to the airport. A man, an Englishman called Costello, would be picked up and brought there. He was to give the “goodbye” message and make it strong enough to see that Costello not only left but stayed gone. There was to be no violence and the less the airport authorities were involved the better. He’d told airport security to have a room available but to stay out of the way. He didn’t know either of the men who had done the actual pick-up but he was sure they were genuine police. He didn’t know anything else and certainly not why he had been chosen, all he could think of was that an inspector was senior enough to know how to do the job properly but not so senior that it had to be explained to him. The message had come down from somewhere high but nobody knew, or was prepared to admit they knew, who had originated it. He had asked, oh yes, he had asked, before and after, but there was nothing doing. All he knew was, ‘kick Costello out and be sure he stays out’

  ‘Then I got the message from airport security that you were back and wanted the news sent to the police. I’d done the kicking out so it got passed on to me. Your coming back isn’t good news and announcing it like you did makes it worse. Like I said, I had no idea what it was all about in the first place so I decided to pay you a visit in my own time at your hotel. There’s no diary entry and nobody knows I’m here.’

  ‘OK, you’re on your own time, you’re here, and nobody knows except you and me. Now what?’

  ‘I’m involved. I don’t want to be but I am, so I want to know what was going on. I thought you might tell me.’

  That was Carpentier’s story and Jimmy had to admit it was a good one. It made some sort of sense, fitted the known facts, and kept Carpentier more or less in the clear. Jimmy had stalled him at the hotel and said that he needed a couple of days, then they could meet and he’d tell him what he knew. If Carpentier was telling the truth, that he was on his own time and the visit unofficial he didn’t have much choice, either he did like he was told or he had to make it official. Jimmy was glad he’d done as he’d been told. It meant his story might even be true. He’d taken Carpentier’s number and that was that, until now. Now the question circling in Jimmy’s mind as they exchanged small talk in the bar was, is he really a good guy who got used or is he being clever and telling a good story? Jimmy knew all too well that the really clever coppers always has good stories, especially when the shit might hit the fan and spray it in their direction.

  He looked out of the bar window across the Seine. It was a beautiful spring day, a day to enjoy yourself. A day to fall in love. A day to …

  ‘It was raining last time I was here. Paris in the spring, I thought, what a bloody washout.’

  ‘You shouldn’t believe the films, they make the real thing a disappointment.’

  They both had beers and both were drinking slowly, finding words to say that said nothing. They were sizing each other up. Each had the same question – how far can I trust you, if I can trust you at all?

  Jimmy made up his mind. When you came right down to it he didn’t have any choice either. He decided it was time for one of them to get the thing going.

  ‘Look, one of us has to get started so I’ll tell you everything I know then you deci
de if we can work together. I need you more than you need me because this is your town and you’re a working copper here. But that also means that you have more to lose. If things go pear-shaped I can walk away from it, if I can still walk. It’ll be different for you. You married?’

  ‘A partner.’

  ‘Kids?’

  ‘No. His name is Jules.’

  A pause.

  A lifetime of Catholic prejudice tried to surface but he stamped it down. What the hell, it didn’t matter, he was going to work with the guy not … Well, he was going to work with the guy so his private life was his own business.

  ‘In the hotel I didn’t give you anything to see which way you’d jump. You jumped the right way so now you can have the rest.’

  And Jimmy told him all he knew or had been told about Mme Colmar, the convent, the hit and run in Munich, Young Hitler’s Nazi’s daughter. All he left out was the woman in the passport photo on the extra page in the dossier in McBride’s office.

  ‘… and that brings you up to today when I get to see Nadine Heppert over in La Défense.’

  And Jimmy told him about the meeting, the brothers, how she tried to kick him off the case, and how he wouldn’t go.

  ‘And she sat there and took it?’

  ‘She didn’t want to.’

  ‘So what was your leverage to make her take it?’

  ‘I told her I had a claimant as well. That we’d been looking here in Europe just like they’d been looking in the States.’

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘No, but she can’t be sure I haven’t, and it looks like she isn’t prepared to take the chance that I’m bluffing.’

  ‘But you are bluffing?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Serge called the waiter and ordered two more beers.

  ‘You’re telling me everything?’

  ‘Everything. I said I would.’

  ‘Is that because you trust me?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘But you don’t know me.’