by Agnès Ruiz
With a dry gesture, she released the wall under the steering wheel and reached the wires she connected. The engine flinched. The whole thing had been fast, but she had wasted a lot of time.
The pick-up was no longer in sight. She tried her luck and disrespected two red lights, with her eyes on the watch.
Sluggish traffic could be a chance or a disadvantage. For the moment, it was the first solution that was profitable to her. While she was going to take a street at random, she recognized the gray pick-up in her rearview mirror. Neither one nor two, she operated a half turn and spun in the same direction. She now had to be careful and keep her distance so she would not be spotted. It was here that the little traffic became complicated.
The vehicle continued its way to the city center, resulting in its usual and insatiable flow. Annabelle made sure to leave two vehicles between her and the pick-up. Finally, it stopped in a deserted street. A former industrial zone, almost all of which had broken windows and metal beams with apparent rust.
Prudently, Annabelle parked in a corner street. She went down and pushed open the door without slamming it. The next moment, she stuck against a building room to spy without being seen. The massive man who had sprung up at Annabelle’s home had taken off his hood. It was now Grégoire who had his head covered with a brown bag, like bags taken at a grocery store, Annabelle thought.
A man in a tie suit followed the duo while glancing furtively around.
The distance made it difficult for Annabelle to make out the faces. From where she was, they did not mean anything. Perhaps she did not know them, indeed.
“What do they want from Grégoire?” she panicked.
She went to the building where her friend had been taken away. She tried to reassure herself. If they had wanted to kill him, it would be over. Except that by reflecting on it more, she thought again about what had been inflicted on her parents... Was there a link? Were they going to hurt her childhood friend?
Again, the insidious “why” resounded in her head hurting her skull.
She had to act to escape her incessant assumptions.
There was a flight of steps and other corridors that led to God knows where. She regretted her lack of foresight. She should have moved ahead earlier rather than weigh the pros and cons. She listened, hoping to get a sound that would guide her.
The slight squeal she heard was sudden. When she turned round, it was too late. All she saw was a revolver butt that came across to shatter against her temple.
* * *
Jonathan rose at the stroke of thirteen hours, hungry. Annabelle was nowhere. He pitied bitterly. He remembered she had come home.
He called on her cell phone and fell on her answering machine. Hesitant, he finally left no message. He went out in the shower, determined not to take her absence into account.
“If she needs me, she knows where to find me!”
When he sat on his bed to put on his socks, he found a piece of paper on the floor. It was Annabelle’s handwriting. She told him that she was going to her parents’, to do “things”.
“Great good to her! I’m really stupid to stay here, me!”
He tried to call her again. He was planning to return to Toronto. He wanted to inform her before. He fell again on the answering machine.
“Hi, it’s Jon... Where are you? Why aren’t you answering?”
He hung up and stuffed his things scattered in his bag. There were also Annabelle’s belongings. She would keep the room, anyway. He could leave them there, he decided.
On closing the door, he checked his cell phone. He could have missed a call from Annabelle. There was nothing. Then he called again. The answering machine bugged him again. With a loud voice, he announced that he was returning.
“And when you’ve made up your mind to talk to me, you know where to find me!”
Moderately satisfied, he went to lunch with the money Annabelle had thrown at him.
It was there that he realized his plan was bad. He was not going to let Annabelle and her silver case go soon. It was almost a jackpot with the double murder of her parents.
By the time everything was settled, she should be managing a huge sum, according to what he knew. More serene in the face of these new prospects, he whistled as he saw his future brighter than in the morning. He even took a walk in old Montreal, skirting boats alongside the River St-Laurent.
Chapter 19
Rachel Toury tried to reach Annabelle in vain. She always fell on her voice mailbox.
The fact that she was not the natural daughter of the Rambouillet couple did not really matter, but she needed to find out if Annabelle knew.
The detective had stopped on a possible involvement of her biological family. They might want to get her back. Yeah, retrieve the legacy that went with... The young woman was of age, yet it was worth investigating. “Follow money”, her superior used to tell her, when she had just taken office. Sometimes she felt that that she had been practicing this profession for centuries.
Jeff burst into her office while she was thinking.
“The officer stationed at the Rambouillets was assaulted.”
“How is he?”
Rachel’s face was filled with discomfort, visible in the heavy features of her colleague’s undertones.
“Very worrying. Jamel was rushed to the hospital. He was still unconscious. “
The detective stood up and pondered while collecting her belongings.
“Let’s go to the Rambouillets with a team of scientists. Ask Jacques and Paul to go and get Jamel’s wife and take her to the hospital. We’ll join them later.”
“You think we missed something?”
“I have the impression. Otherwise, I do not see why Jamel was attacked.”
“We’re taking your car. Mine is in the garage.”
Rachel raised an eye-brow, doubting.
“I thought this old story was a thing of the past, with your garage owner super-girlfriend.”
“That too is a thing of the past. I had to change garage... It was too complicated to see her.”
Rachel preferred to change the topic and asked Jeff to join Annabelle as she took the wheel.
“Why? You wanna know if she saw anything? I doubt. In my opinion, she’s still at her hotel...”
“I cannot reach her. I have already left several messages in vain. Even at the hotel reception. Her room does not answer.”
Rachel wondered for a moment if Annabelle could be for anything in the aggression of the police officer.
“Answering machine. Like you,” Jeff said to him while putting back his cell phone.
“Ask for a rogatory commission for Annabelle’s cell phone. We can try to locate it using such means.
“I’ll call Matt as a scientist. You’re right. He’ll be able to retrace her signal. He’s an ace.”
Rachel agreed while parking. The science laboratory van stood behind her vehicle.
The door of the Rambouillet dwelling was wide open. She also discovered the neighbor, Jeremiah Johnson dragging his duck, with an eye on her.
“Good morning, Mr. Johnson. You know, I guess.”
“Yeah! But I saw nothing. I was at the bakery to buy bread. What’s going on here? They say one of your men was brutally assaulted. You’re not going to make me think it’s a coincidence. I cannot believe.”
“I’m not going ahead, Mr. Johnson. But actually, a man was seriously injured. I’m sorry, I have to leave you.”
“If need be, do not hesitate to call on me,” Mr. Johnson recommended.
He did not move, obviously determined to stay. Rachel thanked him, turned round and left. She knew nothing would change his mind. She did not want to talk to convince him.
Inside the Rambouillets’ house, she found two police officers.
“We have a witness?” Jeff asked.
“No. The man was walking his dog when he saw someone lying on the steps. He approached us and called. We were the closest patrol when the dispatcher launched the
call.”
“Have you taken the neighbor’s name?”
“Of course.”
One could read a reproach in the eyes of one of the two men. Jeff asked for clarification.
“He is still there. The man in gray, just to the right, the second policeman replied pointing at a man standing at the foot of the steps.
Rachel and Jeff had met him. The detective thanked the officers and let them return to their round.
“Jeff, I’ll let you handle the guy down the steps. I’m staying with the scientific team to take a walk in the house, to see if anything has been touched.”
From room to room, the detective wandered around the house intrigued. Nothing seemed to be missing since the last time she had come. Nothing had been moved either. Except downstairs, of course, the shelf-stand and vase had overturned
On the corner of a table she noticed blood. She called Jean Sassy and asked him to take a sample. Other technicians were already at work. It was like a return to the previous days. Double work, Rachel thought, overwhelmed by this crime scene with a fresh assault. They had to work on a new record of fingerprints and samples of suspicious traces.
She called Matt Lorieux, the head of the criminal police science and computer laboratory.
“Matt, you have something new for me? What is it, Annabelle Rambouillet’s phone?”
“The location is in progress. It should not be long. I’ll let you know.”
Rachel thanked him and then hung up.
Chapter 20
On the threshold of the house, Rachel tried to call Annabelle again. She did not bother to leave a message and then bumped into the house of the neighbor, Grégoire Caron. She waited in vain. She also dialed his number. The mailbox snapped. She frowned. Were these two together and preferred not to answer her?
Absurd. Why should they do this... Did they have anything to hide?
She glued her face to discern something through the large bay window, looking for any clue that would go in that direction. There was nothing. The room seemed to be in order. There was no movement.
She went back to the Rambouillets’ when her phone rang.
“Finally!” she said without checking her screen.
She expected to hear Annabelle. It was Valentin Berthaud, her husband. He reminded her that they had to spend the weekend with his parents.
“I know... For now, I do not know if it will be possible. One of our officers was assaulted.”
Rachel summarized her investigation. They concluded that at worst, Valentin could go with Kyle. It was not the first time that a thorny record held her back at work. She hung up, feeling that the same thing might happen. She liked her in-laws. They would have been even more disappointed if Valentin and Kyle had not come at all, she reassured herself as best she could.
Jeff joined her again and told her about the man who had reported the police officer on the ground.
“He did not see anything. He was there by chance. And that’s good for our man.”
Rachel nodded her head. She grew impatient to receive Matt’s location of Annabelle’s cell phone.
“He told me it will not be very long.”
“Unless her phone is off and she does not want to be spotted,” Jeff said.
“You also have suspicions?”
“Let’s say it’s a little strange, indeed.”
Rachel mentioned the biological family. A discussion ensued, with anxious fronts on both sides. Rachel swore. She had nothing in hand or so little for now.
“I’ll try to call her boyfriend. He may be able to tell us more. In the room, nobody answers.”
As soon as the phone rang the second time, Jonathan answered. Rachel talked with him, as Jeff was on the lookout. He soon realized that the young man had no news of Annabelle. The detective hung up, confused.
“It’s getting stranger,” she said. “In addition, he showed little concern. He was touring in old Montreal.”
“I think this guy is weird.”
“He seemed nervous the first time,” Rachel confirmed. “I think the time has come to stick our noses into their small business. Then Grégoire Caron must not be neglected. He is also absent. I tried at his workplace; they have not seen him today. He did not call to report his absence. This kind of thing is unusual.”
“You think they fled together?” Jeff asked.
“Why?”
A question that always came up in an investigation, Detective Toury thought.
“Because I can smell a terrible rat in this case...”
Rachel found this answer very inadequate. His face was long enough for the investigator to come up with an idea.
“Maybe she has no chance of benefiting from the inheritance...”
“This holds water if and only if she has a hand in the murder of her parents,” the detective objected. “Do not forget that she had access to the house. She did not need to attack our colleague.”
“I do not understand, anyway,” Jeff conceded.
Matthieu Lorieux called her at that moment to inform her of the place where Annabelle’s phone was located. She noted the information and then hung up.
Jeff entered the address provided by Matt on the GPS.
“It is not very far.”
At the junction, she asked if Jeff had been able to retrieve the surveillance images.
“Matt is on it. He says that the quality is very very poor. When he tries to zoom, it becomes super blur.”
“Does he see the pick-up and the time?”
“I’m afraid it’s the only information we’ll get.”
“It’s always better than nothing,” Rachel conceded. “It will be possible to make a cross with the call to the aid of Lucien Rambouillet and the departure of the pick-up. Also assign two men to stay at the Rambouillets after the experts have passed. And request a patrol to be particularly vigilant in the area.”
Jeff also called the hospital. The situation had not changed. The officer was still in the operating room. His wife and son were waiting with Jacques and Paul. Rachel made it a duty to support the family.
After some turns and deviations, they found themselves in a disused area.
“There’s a car there.”
“And we’re at the address indicated by Matt,” Rachel confirmed, frowning. “The place is grim.”
“What is Annabelle doing here?”
They went down while observing the surroundings. With one hand, Rachel touched the hood.
“It is cold.”
“I seem to have seen this car in the Rue des Rambouillet.”
“Well done, Jeff. It was in front of Grégoire Caron’s home. We can assume it’s his car.”
“They’re together, somewhere around here, it seems.”
“We gotta check. Let us remain on our guard. We never know.”
It took them only ten minutes to sweep the area near the car before Jeff called Rachel by his radio.
“I found Annabelle.”
He pointed the spot to the detective and they met there. The young woman had just regained consciousness. She looked rather bad with her cheekbone wound on her temple. A trickle of coagulated blood blocked a part of her face and hair had stuck to it.
“I called an ambulance,” he said. “She’s still in a daze.
What could have happened? A disagreement with Grégoire?”
“On what?”
“I do not know... The sharing of booty...the contents of the trunk.”
Annabelle tried to straighten herself, despite a pain that twisted her head. She tried to speak. No sound came out. She heard the detective’s words vaguely. She focused on an object in front of her. It was in vain. Everything was constantly moving.
“Everything will be fine, mademoiselle,” Rachel assured her when she realized the young woman’s agitation. “We’ll take care of you. Where’s Grégoire?”
“Where is” Annabelle’s painful mind captured. She would have liked to ask the question herself. It was beyond her strength. Constraine
d by pain and immense weakness, she closed her eyes. In a moment, it would be better.
She did not realize that the seconds gave way to long minutes and that in this time she had been treated by a medical team. Jeff took Rachel’s car while the detective went directly into the ambulance.
Chapter 21
In the waiting room of the emergency ward, Rachel and Jeff quickly informed the doctor who had taken his constants.
“We are going to take x-rays as a precautionary measure, but everything leads us to believe that there was more fear than evil.”
“Can we talk to him, Doctor?” Rachel inquired.
“Do not linger,” the doctor advised. She kept repeating “Grégoire” “Where is Grégoire”...
A nurse led them into a box closed by curtains to separate each patient. She opened a piece of cloth and was amazed to find Annabelle standing.
“But what are you doing?” the nurse panicked.
The young woman had pulled the drip and stood in bed to move.
“I think a few minutes later, and we could not find you anymore,” Rachel said, increasingly suspicious.
“You’ll go back to bed right away. You’re not in a state of health,” the nurse said
With Rachel’s help, they put her back to bed despite Annabelle’s vehement protests.
“I have to find Grégoire. They took him...”
“Wow, wow, wow! Not so fast,” Rachel intervened. “What do you want to say?”
The nurse put the drip back in its place and straightened her pillow.
“It’s Grégoire,” Annabelle continued, a little more calmly catching the detective’s eyes.
The latter leaned to listen to her more easily while nevertheless saying:
“Precisely, he does not answer the phone. Just like you, for that matter.”
“How... did you find me?”
“Thanks to your cell phone. Luckily you had it on you.”
They had found Annabelle’s purse on the floor, near the Rambouillets’ pedestal table. Rachel had taken it away and still had it in her hand while questioning the young woman.