Henri turned away towards the grimy window above the sink before speaking in a low tone, “Now that I have your attention, Jacques, there are some things I wish to know.” He continued to face the window. “Your two visitors yesterday. What did they want?”
Henri’s voice was quiet but menacing and as he finished speaking, he turned to face Jacques and looked him straight in the eye.
“What visitors?” answered Jacques, swallowing and trying to play for time.
Henri nodded to Albert who was still standing behind Yvonne with the knife in his hand. Albert sighed as he grabbed Yvonne’s hair and pulled her head back putting the knife to her throat again. Jacques steeled himself. He was sure they wouldn’t kill her, at least not until he had told them what they wanted to know.
“I certainly will not tell you anything if you kill her,” he said in as even a tone as he could manage.
Henri put his finger to his mouth and gently tapped his lips as he walked to and fro in front of Jacques. “OK, Jacques, I believe you. So we will try something a little different.” He turned and looked at Albert. “Undo the lady’s blouse,” he instructed.
Putting the knife between his teeth, Albert reached down with both hands and ripped Yvonne’s blouse apart roughly, causing a couple of buttons to fall to the floor. Yvonne’s exposed breasts rose and fell and her breathing became heavy as Albert took Yvonne’s left breast in his hand and held the knife next to it. Henri smiled and looked at Jacques.
“Now, Jacques,” he said, “Let me ask you again. What did your visitors want?”
It was beginning to dawn on Jacques that these men would never let him and Yvonne go. Once they had found out all they wanted to know, they would kill them both. All he could do was play for time and hope for a moment when their guard was down. But he didn’t want to see Yvonne mutilated any more. He waited, and they waited, looking at him expectantly. Then Henri grew impatient and nodded to Albert indicating that he should proceed. Albert was about to comply when Jacques interrupted.
“No! Wait!” he said, a desperate tone to his voice, “OK, you win. I will tell you what you want to know.” Albert relaxed and let go of Yvonne’s breast as Jacques continued. “They were interested in a book which they found on my boat.”
“Ah, very good, Jacques. Now we are getting somewhere. I knew you loved your sister more than that.” Henri leaned towards Jacques and, with his face only a few inches away from him, he added, “Having had the pleasure of her myself last night, I can understand why.” He stood back and laughed out loud again. Jacques could hardly control himself; he was shaking with rage. That seemed to please Henri and he continued to goad Jacques, taunting him with every word, “If you tell me everything, maybe I will let you watch next time.”
That was it! Jacques could take no more. His temper finally got the upper hand and he snapped. He shot out of the chair and grabbed Henri by the throat. The two of them fell backwards against the sink and the pile of filthy crockery clattered as it readjusted itself.
Astonished by Jacques’ action, Henri looked at his bewildered accomplice. “Albert!” he croaked as Jacques’ grip tightened, “Kill her! Do it!… Now!” he wheezed as Jacques’ hands tightened round his throat.
Without releasing his grip, Jacques looked towards Yvonne as Albert slowly lifted the knife to Yvonne’s throat and started to draw it firmly across her windpipe.
“NO! WAIT!” he shouted in desperation as he let go his grip and moved towards Yvonne. But it was too late and Albert’s hand finished the job it had begun. Blood poured from the gaping wound on Yvonne’s neck and a gurgling sound confirmed that Albert had cut through her windpipe. A gunshot rang out and one of the glass panes in the back door shattered as Jacques instinctively dropped to the floor.
Responding quickly, Henri, now free of Jacques, took out his gun and fired in the direction of the back door. The bullet from his gun missed its mark and lodged in the door frame. He scurried quickly out of the kitchen and into the hall as, almost in slow motion, Albert fell to the floor with a thud, a small round hole in the back of his head showing where the bullet from Conrad’s gun had entered his brain.
Jacques looked up and the awful, horrifying look on Yvonne’s face burned itself into his memory. “NO-O-O!” he screamed agonisingly as he saw Yvonne’s eyes staring at him in disbelief. He closed his eyes to shut out the scene before him. When he opened them again, Yvonne was staring at him vacantly and then her head fell onto her chest.
“Yvonne!” cried out Jacques in despair as he turned his face to the floor, sobbing, his whole body shaking and heaving with the strength of the emotion running through him.
Conrad shouldered the back door open and he and Carter came into the kitchen. Carter looked down at Albert and then at Conrad.
“Did you get a look at the other guy?” he asked. Conrad shook his head as Carter continued. “Too bad. But Jacques will be able to identify him.”
Jacques slowly managed to control himself and, with Carter’s help, got up from the floor. He went over to Yvonne and knelt beside her before taking her head in his hands and gently lifting it a little. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him and he let her head drop back onto her chest.
CHAPTER 13
Eloise was pacing up and down the aft deck of the Esprit when she saw Carter walking towards the Capitainerie with Conrad beside him. She looked intently but couldn’t see Jacques. Then, as Carter and Conrad drifted apart, a pace or two behind them, shuffling along the road with his head down, she saw him. She ran across the gangway onto the quay and raced towards the men as they slowly approached the boat.
“Jacques! Jacques!” she called out as she ran.
Jacques looked up as he heard her calling and she almost knocked him over in her haste to embrace him. She kissed him on the lips as he took her in his arms, more as a reflex action than anything else. He kissed her back but without any great enthusiasm and then gently pushed her away.
Carter and Conrad looked on anxiously as it dawned on Eloise that all was not well, that something bad had happened.
“What is it?” she asked looking first at Jacques and then at Carter. “Is it Yvonne?… What’s happened?… Please, someone, tell me.” She saw the tears in Jacques eyes and looked from him to Carter. “Please!”
Eventually, Conrad spoke, his tone almost apologetic. “Yvonne is dead,” he said.
Eloise’s mouth dropped open in horror and her hand went to cover it. “Oh no!” she said, “Oh Jacques, I am so sorry.”
Jacques looked away into the distance and Eloise turned to Carter, her eyes pleading with him to tell her what had happened but he said nothing. The little group made its way slowly onto the Esprit and into the saloon.
Jacques and Conrad sat down at the table while Eloise led Carter to the galley. She switched on the kettle and, hoping they were out of earshot of Jacques, she turned to Carter and whispered, “What happened? Please tell me.”
Carter glanced at Jacques to check that he was not listening and then filled Eloise in on everything that had happened at the farmhouse. When he had finished, she was stunned. As if by remote control, she poured the boiling water into the cafetière. Carter watched her, concerned that he may have given her more detail than she could cope with but when she had finished pouring the water, she looked at him.
“Have you any idea who they were?” she asked, a grim determination to be strong coming through in her voice.
“We’re not sure,” said Carter, shaking his head, “You can see how Jacques is. All we’ve been able to get out of him is that they were asking him about us. And the French PI who was working with us has disappeared. Could be he’s dead too.”
Eloise shook her head slowly as she put some mugs on the tray. “I can’t believe all this is happening,” she said. “And what makes it even worse is that according to you, my grandfather is involved.” She looked up at Carter before continuing. “What do the police think? Do they have any idea who the men were?”
Ca
rter coughed and looked over towards Jacques. “We haven’t spoken to the police, yet,” he said, lowering his voice.
“You haven’t…” began Eloise in a loud voice but Carter put his finger to his lips to quieten her and she continued in a softer tone, “You haven’t told the police? Why not for goodness’ sake?”
“Because it would take too long to explain it all to them. We’re getting close. If we go to the police now, everything will come to a grinding halt while they get up to speed and then these guys, whoever they are, will have time to cover their tracks and get away. The trail we’re following doesn’t end here in Port Grimaud, you know. We only know a small part of the story so far, there’s a lot more for us to find out yet.”
“But there’s a dead body in a farmhouse up in the hills somewhere, in fact two dead bodies, maybe even three!”
“I know, and…” Carter removed a small polythene bag containing a bullet from his pocket and held it up. “…this came from the gun used by one of the men who kidnapped Yvonne. It wouldn’t come as a total shock to me if it matched the one used to execute Rob’s killer.”
“All the more reason to tell the police,” insisted Eloise and Carter raised his hand to try and calm her.
“All in good time,” he said as Eloise looked at him disbelievingly. “We just need a little more time. Another day or so, maybe less, that’s all. By then we’ll have all the evidence we need. Then we can tell the police. I’m asking you not to do anything for twenty-four hours, that’s all. If the police get involved now, we’ll never catch them.”
“I don’t know,” said Eloise, unconvinced, “As far as I’m concerned, Jacques comes first. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect him. Even if that means reporting my own grandfather to the police.”
“Please! Just trust me a little longer,” pleaded Carter, “I do know what I’m doing and I will contact the police when the time is right.”
“OK. But only for twenty-four hours, no more. Then you tell the police, or I will.”
Eloise stared challengingly at Carter for a few moments before picking up the tray and carrying it through to the saloon. She put the tray on the table and then sat down beside Jacques. He was still staring blankly in front of him, largely unaware of anything going on around him. Eloise looked at him intently; he was going to need a lot of support and she wanted to be the one to give it to him. She began to rub his arm gently. Jacques turned his head slowly and looked at her for a moment, then he turned back and continued to stare ahead.
From time to time Carter, who had followed Eloise into the saloon, asked Jacques a question, but the blank look did not change and Jacques didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
When Carter had finished his coffee and had no more questions to ask, he put his cup down and signalled to Conrad that they should leave but before they did, he turned to Eloise.
“Will you be all right?” he asked. Eloise nodded and Carter continued, “You’ve got my number. Call me if you need anything. I’ll come back tomorrow. OK?” Eloise nodded again.
When they had left, Eloise put her arm round Jacques’ shoulders and pulled his head towards her. She felt a tear trickle onto her shoulder and she held him close, stroking his head gently.
After about half an hour, during which Eloise did her best to comfort him, Jacques took a deep breath and sat up straight. Eloise looked at him, concerned.
“How are you?” she asked quietly.
“OK,” answered Jacques, forcing a feeble smile as if to reinforce what he had said.
“You sure?”
He nodded and looked deep into her eyes. “Thank you for being here for me today. I love you so much.”
Eloise smiled. “I love you, too,” she said and gave him a peck on the cheek.
A few more minutes passed with Jacques and Eloise holding each other close before Jacques spoke.
“I need to go and tell my mother what has happened,” he said as he got to his feet. “Someone has to tell her that her daughter is dead. Will you come with me? It will make it easier for me and I want her to meet you anyway.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” responded Eloise.
Jacques saw the pity in her eyes. “It will be all right,” he said. “She is a strong woman, she has had to be.”
As they walked up the steps to his mother’s apartment Jacques was holding Eloise’s hand and he felt her squeeze his hand as he knocked on the door.
“Maman, it’s me, Jacques,” he called, opening the door and going in.
“Jacques! How nice to see you.” Claudine swept into the room. “You haven’t been home for days.” She threw her arms round Jacques, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back and they kissed each other on the cheek before separating.
“Maman, I have some bad news to tell you.”
“Bad news? What do you mean?” Claudine frowned and looked from Jacques to Eloise, a mystified expression crossing her face fleetingly. Then she looked back at Jacques. “What has happened?”
Jacques noticed how the frown made her look so much older. He wanted to see the smile that had cheered him up so often in the past but he knew that the news he bore would not bring it to her face. He steeled himself.
“It’s Yvonne, Maman… She is dead.”
Claudine’s knees gave way and Jacques stepped forward quickly to catch her as she fainted. “Help me to get her onto the settee,” he said to Eloise who was standing watching, not at all sure what she should do.
“I’ll get a damp cloth,” said Eloise once they had laid Claudine on the settee.
Jacques removed his mother’s shoes carefully and a few moments later Eloise returned with the cloth and placed it on Claudine’s brow. Jacques knelt down beside his mother and patted her hand gently.
When Claudine came round after a couple of minutes, Jacques was still kneeling and Eloise was standing beside him, bent over her.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You fainted,” answered Jacques.
Claudine sat up slowly. “I thought you said Yvonne was dead?”
“Yes, it’s true; Yvonne is dead.”
“But how? Why? Tell me, Jacques. What has happened to her? I don’t understand.”
Jacques sighed. “It’s a long story,” he said before proceeding to tell Claudine about the shattering events of the last forty-eight hours. To spare his mother’s feelings, he left out the more gruesome details of what had been done to Yvonne but even so, when he had finished, his mother looked pale.
Jacques and Eloise stayed with Claudine while she recovered from the devastating news they had given her and Jacques insisted that she drink all the glass of cognac he had poured for her.
About an hour later, Claudine seemed to be getting her equilibrium back and Jacques asked Eloise to stay with her while he went to fetch her closest friend, Colette, who lived in the apartment next door.
After Jacques had returned with Colette, he and Eloise stayed a little longer, long enough to be sure Claudine would be all right, before taking their leave and promising to return to see her very soon.
_________________________
While Jacques was giving his mother the bad news about Yvonne, Carter and Conrad were sitting in the lounge of the Hotel Giraglia next to the Capitainerie. Conrad was looking intently at Carter, who was on the phone.
“OK. Thanks. I’ll do that.” Carter switched off the phone and put it on the table in front of him as Conrad looked at him expectantly.
“Nothing new,” said Carter, “Harris said he would forward the forensic analysis on the bullet that killed Spicer to the Sainte Maxime police so that they can compare it with the one we got from the farmhouse.” Carter looked at Conrad, trying to gauge his reaction to the news before continuing. “I’d prefer not to, but I think we’d better go and see the French police and bring them up to speed. Before they receive the analysis from Harris and get the idea we’re trying to keep something from them.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?�
�� asked Conrad, challenging Carter’s questioning look as he continued. “Lacoste is a prominent citizen in these parts. He may have, in fact I’m guessing he almost certainly does have, connections within the local police force.”
Carter considered what Conrad had said for a few moments before responding. “Good point. What if we tell them about the farmhouse and what we are investigating but leave Philippe out of it for now?” Conrad nodded his approval of this compromise as Carter continued, “That way, if he does have a source within the local police, he won’t know we’re onto him and start covering his tracks. But we still get the police on our side.”
Carter and Conrad looked at each other for a few moments before Carter looked away and stared through the window, mentally going over their plan and checking his thinking. He knew that he had no choice but to tell the police what had happened at the farmhouse. His promise to Nicole meant that he couldn’t take any risks with Eloise’s safety; he had to play it safe. Telling the Sainte Maxime police would mean getting round the clock protection for Eloise and Jacques and that would put his mind at rest about her safety even if it did prejudice his investigation a little. But not telling them about Philippe’s possible involvement would enable him to pursue that line of enquiry without hindrance, for a little while at least.
CHAPTER 14
Gilles was standing with his back to the French window in Philippe’s living room as Philippe paced up and down, clearly very angry with Gilles about what had happened at the farmhouse.
Although Gilles was his most trusted ally, things had got out of hand and now they had gone horribly wrong. He had always known that Gilles mixed with some very violent people, he had grown up with them after all, but he had not been aware that Gilles was involving them in his business.
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