Waking the Wolf (Coup de Foudre)

by Amanda Sandton

  Everyone fell silent while they thought over the information. The waiter brought the coffee and a round of cognac. The cognac was on the house he said as they were spoiling the ambiance; they all looked so exhausted.

  They all laughed at his comment and thanked him for the cognac.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Lisa began.

  “Oh-oh, watch out!” said Robert.

  Jean-Luc saw she had something serious to say, “Let her speak, Robert.”

  “If what I tell you helps you solve the case, will you forgive me for screwing up your expedition by breaking my leg that time?”

  “Lisa, for heaven’s sake,” said Sylvie. “No one really holds that against you. Tell us your idea.”

  “Sylvie’s cell phone is top of the range. Mine is, too. Now I always register my phone with the provider so that if it gets lost or stolen they can trace it. If Sylvie registered hers –”

  “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” Sylvie interrupted. “We can find out where my phone is and that will lead the police to the person who stole it, won’t it?”

  Jean-Luc thought for a few moments before commenting. “That’s an excellent point, Lisa. But we have to hope that the thief hasn’t thrown it away, and we have to wait for him to switch it on. I guess if that works, the police can get a search warrant for the address.”

  “Seems like a lot of ‘ifs’,” said Robert.

  “Don’t be so negative,” answered Lisa. “It’s the best bet so far.”

  “Lisa you’re a great best friend,” said Sylvie, putting her arm around her and giving her a hug. “Once the police narrow down the address for the phone, they can match anyone living there with the urine sample we found.”

  “Right, Sylvie,” said Jean-Luc. “You and I will go into the Police Station tomorrow with your phone details. Then it will be up to them to pursue it through official channels.”

  Marcel added, “Meanwhile, we all plod on with the physical evidence, so that we can nail the bastard when we find him. I wouldn’t like him to get off on a technicality. I’ll start the next autopsy without you, if you like, Sylvie.”

  Sylvie nodded, “That’d be great but you’ll have to start with one of the cubs; the other cadavers will probably still be too frozen.”

  “It‘s heartbreaking to hear you say that,” said Lisa. “Wolf cubs are so cute; I don’t know how anyone could deliberately put them through so much pain and distress.”

  Sylvie put her hand on Lisa’s arm and patted her to comfort her. “I’ll get back as soon as I can, Marcel. The quicker we can finish this grisly job the better. Now, let’s order another round of coffee and try and forget about it all until tomorrow.”

  At the end of the evening, Jean-Luc looked round his four friends and colleagues; they made a great team and they deserved to have the culprit caught and he would do everything in his power to make sure that the killer was apprehended and given the maximum sentence.

  25 : Making Progress

  Next morning, Jean-Luc picked up Sylvie and Lisa and dropped Lisa off at the office before driving on to the Police Station. The Police Chief said he would see them both immediately and they went directly to his office.

  “You have news for me?” he asked coming round from behind his desk and shaking hands with them both.

  “Exciting news,” Jean-Luc answered. “We think we’ve found the answer to tracking down our man.”

  “Please, sit down, both of you. Would you like some coffee?”

  They refused politely saying that they needed to get back to the office as soon as possible.

  “Et alors?” he asked, “So?”

  Sylvie explained about her cell phone, saying that the maker could track the GPS position from which the phone was being used because she had registered her phone with their service. She gave the Chief all the paperwork, together with her pin number and password. He said he would get his technical guy onto it immediately. He took hold of her notes and left the office, leaving the door open in his hurry. They could hear him shouting down the corridor for Christophe and then an excited conversation.

  He came back in saying, “I’ve ordered coffee anyway; I thought you would like to wait a while and see if Christophe has any luck. He knew all about the possibilities of tracking the phone, of course.”

  While they were waiting for the coffee Sylvie handed over a copy of the first autopsy report, confirming that the alpha female had been poisoned and with xylitol.

  The Chief scanned the report. “This is an alarming new development in the attack on our wolves. We haven’t had case of poisoning with xylitol in the whole of France. It’s a sign of how much dangerous information there is on the internet for those who abuse it. I’ll send a report to Interpol; maybe they can access the forums concerned and work backwards in order to identify any other possible poachers - although I think ‘poachers’ is too soft a word, let’s say ‘killers’.”

  The coffee came and the three of them went over the evidence they would have against the man if they managed to identify him.

  Sylvie put her cup down and looked at her watch and was alarmed at how long they had been waiting for Christophe’s report; she was anxious to get back to the clinic and the other autopsies waiting to be performed. She couldn’t leave all the work to Marcel; he had his veterinary business to run. She was on the point of standing up to make her excuses when there was a knock at the door and an earnest young man came in.

  “Sir, I’ve contacted the supplier and explained the situation and they are going to give us the GPS co-ordinates as soon as they track them down. However, they warn that they can’t run a trace until the phone is switched on. But don’t worry, Sir. A top of the range cell phone like that one costs a fortune and it’s unlikely the thief would have thrown it away. We have to hope that it’s taken him a while to get it unlocked and he’s biding his time before using it. I’m sure he won’t be able to resist the temptation for long.”

  The Police Chief thanked him and then he turned to Sylvie and Jean-Luc. He stood up saying, “If you’ll excuse me, I want to see this for myself. By the way, I forgot to mention: I will have the DNA results from the urine sample early this evening. When we get the man with the phone, and I am sure we will, we’ll bring him in for questioning and swab him for DNA. If he’s our man, we’ll be able to arrest him as soon as his results are compared with the results from the urine sample you took.”

  He ushered them both out in front of him and rushed off down the corridor calling after the young policeman.

  “Sounds promising,” said Jean-Luc, pulling Sylvie back into the empty office.

  “Let me go, Jean-Luc,” said Sylvie, making a token effort to free herself. “I have to get back to work.”

  Jean-Luc pulled her in close. “You’ve got time for a kiss, sweetheart, and no one can see us here,” he said moving his hands round to cup her buttocks and pull her against himself. Sylvie gave up struggling and yielding to the pleasure and intimacy of a long deep kiss.

  “A-ummm”, came from the desk. A young police woman was turning away from putting some files on the Chief’s desk. “Oh, young love,” she said, smiled at them both and walked out.

  “See,” said Sylvie, breaking away from Jean-Luc with a soft laugh. “You are compromising my professionalism and distracting me from my work.”

  “Back to work then, ma chérie,” said Jean-Luc goosing her as she went through the door. “We’ll continue this later.”

  The next few days were spent processing the material from the crime. Sylvie continued with the autopsies with Marcel helping her in the evenings after his daily clinic was finished. She did her best to shield herself from the emotional pain of having to deal with the after effects of such wanton cruelty. She called on her professional objectivity but at times she was unsuccessful and she found herself breaking off to hide in the corner and weep for a few minutes before she could return to the task in hand. If it hadn’t been for Jean-Luc’s loving support, she doubted w
hether she would have been able to carry on with the job.

  Her reaction did make her wonder whether she had chosen the right profession but Jean-Luc assured her she had to give herself time; she was young, only just twenty-one and she would in time develop a tougher skin, he said.

  She worked late into the evening every day, the weekend included, as did the rest of the team. Once she had closed up for the night, Jean-Luc took her out around Nice, choosing a different restaurant every night. Their time alone was precious; they grew to know and like each other more and more and their love developed a firmer foundation. They spent their nights at Jean-Luc’s flat on the top floor of an old building looking out over the fishing port.

  On the fourth evening after they had returned from the Park with their horrific cargo, they lay looking out over the port at the riding lights of the fishing fleet. Sylvie snuggled up to Jean-Luc, capturing him as he tried to get up by throwing her leg over him and hugging him tightly. She rubbed her cheek against his evening stubble and breathed in his special manly scent.

  “That was wonderful, my love. I feel I can cope with anything now; your lovemaking infuses me with hope and strength.”

  “You do the same for me, sweetheart. Hang in there. We’re so close to the end of this horrible episode. How many bodies to you still have to deal with?”

  “Only one. Marcel and I have managed to get through two a day. Our part in the investigation will soon be over.”

  “I wonder how much longer we’ll have to wait for that man to try your phone. It’s been three days now.”

  “We have to rely on his greed; he’s not going to turn down a perfectly good cell phone, I’m sure.”

  Jean-Luc moved to free himself. “I’m getting a glass of water. Would you like one?”

  “Please.”

  Jean-Luc hopped out of bed. Sylvie watched his tight glutes flex as he strode barefoot to the kitchen. He glanced back over his shoulder, “What are you looking at, ma Sylvie?”

  Sylvie had the grace to blush and she shrugged. “Sometimes I need to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

  She heard the kitchen tap running and Jean-Luc was back, just as beautiful from the front as from the back.

  “Here, you are. Drink up and then we must get some sleep.”

  They drained their glasses and put them down on the nightstands.

  Jean-Luc gathered her up in his arms; they kissed each other goodnight and wriggled down the bed together, cuddled up and fell asleep.

  The Police Chief called the next morning early, only a few minutes after Sylvie and Jean-Luc had started work.

  “Do you want to come in to the office, Jean-Luc? And bring Sylvie with you? My man says he thinks we are on the verge of finding the cell phone’s location.”

  “Bien sûr, Chef. We’re on our way,” answered Jean-Luc.

  He strode across to the clinic and entered the dissection room, catching Sylvie as she was donning her mask ready to start the last autopsy.

  “They’re onto our guy. Viens. The Chief says we can observe from his office.”

  Sylvie threw down her mask and shrugged out of her gown as quickly as she could. Minutes later, they arrived at the station. Jean-Luc parked the car and they rushed inside. The receptionist waved them on to the Chief’s office. They knocked and entered. The chief was talking with great excitement on the phone. They sat down and waited for the call to finish.

  The Chief replaced the phone. “We’ve got the co-ordinates. Christophe is in the process of identifying the location. He won’t be long.”

  There was a rap on the door and the same geeky young policeman came in.

  “I’ve found it, Sir,” he said. “It’s at a small farm outside the village of Trois Granges, about twenty miles away. According to the national computer, there are only two people living there: a father and son. I would hazard a guess that it is the son; the father is seventy-five and I don’t suppose he knows how to use a cell phone but an expensive phone like that would be a godsend to the young man.”

  The Police Chief stood up saying, “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and arrange for a search warrant and pay the farm a visit. If we capture the man with the phone and take his DNA, we should get the results back by tomorrow evening. If they match, we’ll be able to arrest him then. I’ll contact you as soon as I have any news.”

  He ushered them both out in front of him and rushed off down the corridor calling for his driver to take him to the courthouse.

  Sylvie and Jean-Luc were feeling light hearted as they pulled into the car park in front of the clinic. The Police Chief had been positive about the chances of success and his optimism had lifted their spirits. They walked towards the office hand in hand, talking about how wonderful it would be to catch the crook red-handed and get him put away for a good long stretch.

  As they neared the door, Robert opened it for them. “Hurry, hurry,” he called out, blinking rapidly and hopping from one foot to the other as he waited for them to reach him.

  His odd behaviour sent a quiver of alarm snaking its way up from Sylvie’s belly to the back of her neck. Robert grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her over the threshold into the office. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning but, of course, your phone has been stolen and Jean-Luc has his switched off.”

  “We were in the Police Station; you have to switch your phones off in there. What on earth has got you into such a state?” asked Jean-Luc.

  “Someone has been calling Sylvie every ten minutes or so all morning ... from the States. It’s urgent,” Robert said, thrusting a piece of paper at Sylvie.

  Lisa intervened. “Let her sit down, Robert.” She poured a glass of water for Sylvie and took it over to her. “Sylvie, I’m sorry but it’s bad news –”

  Sylvie’s hand flew to her mouth, “Maman ... please say it’s not my mother.”

  “It was the Prof on the phone, Sylvie. I’m afraid your mother had a heart attack yesterday evening.”

  Sylvie leapt up off her chair and searched for her purse. “I must go home at once.”

  Lisa pushed her gently back down onto the chair again. “Sylvie, calm down and listen to me. She’s all right. She’s in hospital and the Prof is with her. He says they want to keep her in for a few days to make sure but the prognosis is good.”

  Sylvie looked round the room her eyes wide and unfocussed. Everything was spinning and she couldn’t think clearly. She put out her hand for Jean-Luc who took hold of it and held it tight.

  Lisa offered the glass to Sylvie, holding it up to her mouth, “Drink, Sylvie.”

  Sylvie took a few sips and then pushed the glass away. “Lisa, I don’t want a drink. I want to go home. My mother needs me.”

  She turned to Jean-Luc, “Help me, please, my love. I must go. I can’t stay here in a foreign country when my mother is ill.”

  Jean-Luc bent down and rocked her gently. “Shush, sweetheart. We’ll sort it out. We all will. Just get your breath back and we’ll have you on a plane in no time, if that’s what you want.”

  He called over his shoulder to Robert. “Get on to the travel agent and find the first flight out from Nice to Heathrow and then back to Clarksville. The earliest arrival time. Book it for Sylvie. You can use my credit card ... here!” he said letting go of Sylvie to pull his card out of his wallet and hand it to Robert. “Print off the reservation and bring it round to the hotel.

  “Lisa, you come with Sylvie and me and help her pack. I don’t think she’s up to it. This shock coming on top of all the long hours she’s been putting in is too much for her.”

  Jean-Luc eased Sylvie to her feet and supported her out to his car. Lisa gathered Sylvie’s things together and followed them.

  26 : Sylvie flies Home

  The packing didn’t take long; Lisa and Jean-Luc did it between them while Sylvie sat slumped, still shocked, in the armchair watching them, her face expressionless.

  “Thank goodness, Madame Bonjean isn’t around,” said Lisa as she d
id up the zip on Sylvie’s makeup bag and put it in her hand luggage.

  Jean-Luc knelt down beside Sylvie and took her cold hands in his. “Sweetheart, have you got your passport handy?”

  Sylvie gave a start and brought her attention back to Jean-Luc. “It’s in my purse. I’m so sorry. You’re both being so kind.”

  She gave a muffled sob and took a deep breath but the tears fell. Jean-Luc let her cry, patting her back in comfort until her sobbing quietened down and she was more of herself again.

  “Thanks, my love. It’s such a shock. My mother is only forty-five. That’s awfully young for a heart attack, isn’t it?”

  Lisa joined Jean-Luc at Sylvie’s feet. “Sylvie, her youth will count in her favour, don’t you worry. And she’ll be getting the best medical attention, if I know the Prof.”

  A faint smile touched Sylvie’s lips. “I’m sure you’re right. I just wish I had been there. I feel so guilty for being miles away on my own selfish walkabout when she needed me.”

  Lisa stood up and bundled Sylvie’s bags by the bedroom door ready to be taken out to the car. They were waiting on Robert’s arrival with news of the flight. Jean-Luc broke away from Sylvie and said he would take the bags down to the front door to speed things up. Halfway down the corridor he met Robert who handed over the reservation and took over the bags. Jean-Luc hurried back to the bedroom to fetch Sylvie.

  Lisa gave Sylvie a hug and said she would keep in touch by email but Sylvie didn’t appear to be taking much in. Jean-Luc took her by the hand and led her out to the car, saw her safely into the passenger seat, clapped Robert on the back in thanks, and pulled away from the hotel.

  Sylvie didn’t come to her senses until she felt the undercarriage jolt back under the plane after take-off. The trip to the airport, boarding the plane, stowing her overnight bag and collapsing into her seat were all done on autopilot. She had a vague memory of being comforted by Jean-Luc and of his telling her he loved her and would always be there for her but the details were blurry. The only thing that stood out sharply was the fact that her mother had nearly died and she hadn’t been there.