Morelli was in the front beside the driver. Frank saw his body relax when he realized they would make it. They drove straight ahead for a short stretch and Xavier began to slow down. He turned off the siren when they pulled on to the access road of Terminal 2 and followed a sign indicating the unloading zone for passengers and luggage. Cars were only allowed a brief stop, a ritual known as Kiss and Fly. Frank smiled to himself. He doubted that Parker would kiss him before he left.
They stopped in a reserved access area halfway down on the left. It was protected by a barricade and two guards from the Côte d’Azur airport. Seeing the police markings, they raised the barricade and let them through. A few minutes later, the car pulled up in front of the international departures terminal.
Morelli turned sharply to the driver. ‘If you do that on the way back, the next vehicle you’ll be operating will be a lawn mower. Landscape gardeners love to hire former cops.’
‘Don’t worry, champ, his bark is worse than his bite.’ Frank smiled and leaned over from the backseat to put his hand on Xavier’s shoulder.
Frank’s mobile phone rang inside his jacket pocket. He could guess who it was. The ring was so insistent that he was surprised the phone wasn’t hot.
‘Hello?’
‘Frank? It’s Froben. Where are you?’
‘Outside the airport. I’m getting out of the car now.’
‘Thank the lord.’ The inspector sounded genuinely relieved. ‘This guy’s about to explode. He’ll probably declare war against France single-handedly in a matter of minutes. You wouldn’t believe the stories I had to make up to keep him calm.’
‘I believe it. But I assure you, it wasn’t a whim. It’s the biggest favour anyone’s ever done for me in my life.’
‘Okay, Americano. My phone’s getting wet with tears. Cut the sentimentality and get your arse over here. You’ve got to take this hot potato off my hands. I’m coming to meet you.’
Frank opened the car door. Morelli’s voice stopped him just as his foot hit the pavement. ‘Should we wait?’
‘No, you go. I’ll make my own way back somehow.’
Frank was about to walk away but then changed his mind. Even in such a hurry, he had to express his gratitude. ‘Uh, Claude?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Thank you, really. Both of you.’
‘For what? Go on. They’re waiting for you.’
Before he got out, Frank glanced knowingly at Xavier. ‘I’ll bet €1,000 against one of Roncaille’s calling cards that you can get back faster than you got here.’
He closed the door on Morelli’s protests. But as he heard the car race off, he smiled.
Jean-Loup’s capture and the end of the nightmare had created a sort of holiday cheer among the police of the Sûreté Publique. All the deaths in the criminal’s path had kept things solemn, but seeing him arrive at headquarters in handcuffs had been like finding a special present under the Christmas tree. And anyone who regretted that Nicolas Hulot was not there to share that moment kept it to himself. The fact that the arrest was due solely to Frank’s stroke of genius and that it had been carried out by him alone raised the general level of admiration for him and even created esteem where it hadn’t existed. He had smiled when smiles were required, shaken hands when they were offered along with congratulations, and had taken part in a joy that he could not completely share. He hadn’t wanted to be the only guy not smiling in the group photo. But he kept doing something that was becoming a ritual that day. He kept looking at his watch. And he had requested a car to get him to the airport as quickly as possible. And young Xavier hadn’t let him down.
He hurried towards the glass doors, which opened obligingly at his arrival. Froben’s familiar face greeted him as soon as he entered the departure lounge. The inspector snorted theatrically and mimed someone wiping sweat off his brow with one hand.
‘You have no idea what a great pleasure it is to see you, Agent Ottobre.’
‘I have a really good idea, don’t you worry,’ Frank answered in the same joking tone. They were both being perfectly sincere.
‘I was clutching at straws to find some way to convince him that no official intervention was necessary. I could barely manage to keep him from calling the President of the United States. I’m sure you can imagine. They missed their flight, but the next one to the States leaves in just under an hour. And I guarantee that General Parker won’t be kept off it.’
‘Everything you say about Parker is true. And believe me, I could tell you a few more things about him.’
As they spoke, they walked rapidly to the area of the airport where Froben had parked the Parkers. They reached the security check. The inspector showed his badge to the agents at the metal detectors, and a uniformed officer pointed to a side entrance that would bypass the line of passengers waiting to have their hand luggage checked. They turned left to go to the gates.
‘Now you must tell me something, Frank. How’s the other business going? Am I wrong, or is there news?’
‘You mean No One?’
‘Who else?’
‘We got him,’ said Frank in a neutral voice.
‘When?’ The inspector looked at him, astonished.
‘About an hour ago. He’s in jail.’
‘That’s how you tell me? Just like that?’
Frank turned to look at Froben. He waved vaguely in the air. ‘It’s over, Christophe. End of story.’ He couldn’t say anything more because they had reached the reserved room, guarded by a policeman.
Frank stopped outside the door that obscured General Nathan Parker, Helena and Stuart from his view. One of them was a burdensome part of his present; the other two were his future. He stood staring at the door as if it were transparent and he could see what those on the other side were doing. Froben put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Want any help, Frank?’
There was a protective note in the inspector’s voice. Froben’s delicate sensitivity contrasted sharply with his lumberjack’s appearance.
‘No, thanks. You’ve given me more than I could have hoped for. Now I have to fend for myself.’
The room was one of the many anonymous, comfortable VIP lounges scattered throughout all airports for business-class passengers. Armchairs and leather sofas, walls painted pastel colours, plush carpeting, a small cafeteria to one side, and reproductions of Van Gogh and Matisse paintings on the walls alongside a few travel posters framed in satinized steel. There was a sense of impermanence that one generally finds in that kind of room, with all those arrivals and departures breaking the false illusion of comfort.
Helena was sitting on a sofa leafing through a magazine. Stuart was beside her playing his Game Boy. The low coffee table in front of them had a couple of plastic cups and a soda can on its glass surface.
General Parker was standing on the other side of the room, his back to the door. He was staring at a reproduction of a crucifixion by Dalí hanging on the wall, his hands crossed behind his back. He turned his head as he heard the door open, looking momentarily puzzled at Frank as if he were searching for a name and a place to connect to the face.
Helena raised her head from the page and her face lit up when she saw him. Frank thanked heaven that the light of that gaze was meant for him, but he had no time to enjoy her smile. Parker’s rage exploded instantly. In two steps he positioned himself between them, with hatred hotter than fire blazing on his face.
‘I should have known that you were the cause of all this,’ he spluttered. ‘This is the last mistake you’ll ever make. I’ve already told you once, and now I’m confirming it. You’re finished. You’re so stupid, you thought I was bluffing. As soon as I’m back in the States, I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of you. I’ll—’
Frank stared fixedly at the red face of the man before him. There was a storm inside him crashing against the shore, shaking the wooden pier. But when Frank interrupted the general, his voice was so calm that it aggravated his adversary even more.
‘I’d calm do
wn if I were you, general. At your age, the heart is an organ that needs to be treated with care. You wouldn’t want to risk a heart attack and rid me of your presence so easily.’
The look that passed over the old soldier’s face was one of a thousand flags waving, each moved by the winds of war. Frank saw with pleasure that, along with hatred, fury and disbelief, there was a shadow of doubt behind those blazing blue eyes. He might have begun to wonder where Frank found the nerve to speak to him that way. It was just an instant, and then Parker’s gaze was again filled with utter disdain. He imitated Frank and calmed his voice as well. The corners of his mouth lifted in a self-satisfied smile.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, young man. Unfortunately for you, my heart is solid as a rock. You, apparently, are having useless palpitations. And that’s another mistake. My daughter—’
Frank interrupted him again, which was not something to which General Nathan Parker was accustomed.
‘As far as your daughter and grandson are concerned –’ Frank paused a moment at the word grandson, lowering his voice so that the boy could not hear. Stuart was sitting on the sofa with his hands in his lap, watching the scene in wonder. His electronic toy, completely ignored, continued on its own: beep, beep, beep.
‘As far as your daughter and grandson are concerned, I would advise you to let them go visit the duty-free shop. It might be better if we keep the things we have to say to each other to ourselves.’
‘We have absolutely nothing to say to each other, Agent Ottobre. And my daughter and grandson don’t need to go to any goddamn duty-free shop. You’re the one who should walk out that door and get out of our lives for good. We’re getting on a plane to the United States. Let me repeat—’
‘General, perhaps you’ve forgotten that all your blustering won’t pay off in the long run. Sooner or later, someone will have the right cards to call. And win. I don’t give a damn about you. If I saw you on fire I wouldn’t even bother pissing in your pocket. If you want me to say what I have to say in front of them, I will. But be aware that you won’t be able to turn back. So if you want to take that risk . . .’
Frank’s voice was so low that Helena could barely hear him. She wondered what he had just said to her father to silence him that way. Frank looked at her and nodded slightly. Helena stood up and took her son by the hand.
‘Come on, Stuart. Let’s go for a walk. There are lots of things to see outside.’ The boy followed her obediently. He lived in the Parker house, like his mother. He was used to receiving orders. And orders were meant to be obeyed. The two of them walked over to the door, the carpet muffling their footsteps. The only sound was that of the door closing behind them.
Frank sat down on the sofa where Helena had been a minute before. The warmth of her body was still on the leather and that warmth became his. He pointed to the armchair in front of him.
‘Sit down, general.’
‘Don’t you tell me what to do!’ Frank noticed the slight hysterical note in Parker’s voice. ‘Hurry up and spare me your ranting. We have a plane to catch in . . .’ He looked at his watch. Frank smiled to himself. It must have become a habit for him, too. Frank noticed that he had to move his arm further away to see the dial.
Parker looked up from his watch. ‘We all have a plane to catch in less than an hour.’
Frank shook his head. Negative, sir.
‘I’m sorry to contradict you, general. Not all of you. Just you.’
Parker looked at him as if he could not believe what he had just heard. He seemed surprised, like he had just heard the punch line of a very long joke. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. Frank was happy to see that his laughter was sincere, and it gave him great pleasure to know that in another minute it would be silenced.
‘Laugh if you like. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re leaving on your own and your daughter and grandson are staying here in France, with me.’ Parker shook his head with the pity one feels before the ramblings of an idiot.
‘You’re out of your mind.’
Frank smiled and relaxed on the sofa. He crossed his legs and stretched his arm over the back.
‘Sorry to contradict you again. I once was, I think. But I’m cured. I’ve never been so sane. So much the worse for you. You see, general, you were so concerned with finding my mistakes that you never stopped to think about yours, which were much worse.’ The general looked towards the door and took a couple of steps in that direction. Frank cut that plan short. ‘There’s no help coming. I wouldn’t advise involving the police, if that’s what you’re thinking. And if you’re hoping Captain Mosse will come to the rescue, I’ll be the first to inform you that he’s lying in the morgue with his throat cut.’
The general spun around. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I just told you. As good as he was, you can always find someone better. Your lackey was an excellent soldier, but unfortunately for him, the man he was supposed to kill, No One, was a much better fighter. He killed him so very easily, which must have come as an unpleasant surprise to Mosse.’
Parker had to sit down at that news. His tanned face clouded over.
‘In any event, so far as your daughter’s killer is concerned, we caught him. There’s no chance that what you were afraid of could happen now. We’re locking him up in an insane asylum and he’ll never get out.’
Frank paused briefly. He moved to the edge of the sofa and looked carefully at the man sitting before him. He couldn’t imagine what he was thinking just then, and he didn’t care. All he wanted was to wrap things up quickly and stare at his back as he walked to the plane.
Alone.
‘It might be better if I start at the beginning, general. And the beginning has to do with me, not with you. I don’t think I need to dwell on my story, do I? You know everything about me, about my wife and her suicide after my miraculous escape from an explosion while I was investigating Jeff and Osmond Larkin, two drug dealers who ran a $300 million-a-year enterprise. I was destroyed by that experience. I ended up here trying to pull myself out of the mire and I started investigating this serial killer case almost against my better judgement. A killer as ferocious as a shark, whose first victim was your daughter Arianna. And then you appeared on the scene. You came to Monte Carlo, distraught with suffering, thirsting for revenge . . .’
‘And what would you have done if someone had killed your wife like that?’ Parker took Frank’s comment to mean that he doubted the sincerity of Parker’s grief.
‘I would have done exactly what you said you wanted to do. I would have had no peace until I killed the murderer with my own bare hands. But it’s different in your case.’
‘What the hell are you saying, you clown? What do you know about a father’s feelings towards his daughter?’
Parker spoke hastily, without thinking, but he immediately realized his mistake. Frank felt like kicking Parker’s face to a bloody pulp and leaving a nice stain on the deep-pile carpet. The effort he made to control himself probably took ten years off his life.
‘You’re right, general. I’m totally ignorant of the feelings a father can have for a daughter. But I know exactly what your feelings are for your daughter. You make me sick, Parker. You completely disgust me. I told you that you are a despicable person and that I would crush you like an ant, but in your egomania, you didn’t believe me.’
A shadow of a smile passed over Parker’s face. He probably considered the reaction he had provoked in Frank a small personal triumph.
‘If it’s not too much for you, could you tell me just how you plan on doing that?’
‘Here. There’s confirmation of everything I’m about to tell you inside this envelope. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll continue.’ Frank pulled a large yellow envelope from his inside pocket and threw it down on the glass table in front of them. Parker waved at him to go on.
Frank’s mind was still in turmoil and he had to force himself to calm down and explain things in order. ‘As I was saying, you came here
to Monte Carlo, distraught over the death of your daughter and the barbaric way she was killed. I must say, you were hardly reticent about your desire to get your hands on the killer yourself. You were so obvious about it that you aroused some suspicion. But that intention was the furthest thing from your mind.’ His voice became a chilling hiss. ‘What you wanted most was the exact opposite. You wanted the murderer to go on killing.’
Parker jumped to his feet as if suddenly bitten by a snake.
‘Now I’m sure of it. You’re off your rocker and you should be locked up in a cell with that other one.’ Frank nodded to him to sit down again.
‘Quit protesting, general. It’s completely useless. You don’t get it yet, do you? I know all about you and the late, not at all lamented Captain Mosse.’
‘You know all about just what, exactly?’
‘If you’d just stop interrupting me, you’d find out before you get on that plane – alone. You realize of course that we have to go back a minute to my story. Remember the two drug lords I was telling you about? One of them, Jeff Larkin, was killed in a shootout when they were arrested, may he rest in peace. The other one, Osmond, landed in jail. When the investigation into the activities of those two gentlemen continued, the FBI started to suspect that someone high, very high up, was involved in their trafficking. But despite all their efforts, they couldn’t figure out who it was.’
Nathan Parker’s face was now a mask of stone. He sat on the leather armchair and crossed his legs, his eyes half closed, waiting. This was Frank’s moment to show his cards, one by one, and the general was curious to know what they were. Frank couldn’t wait to turn that curiosity into the certainty of defeat.
‘Locked in prison, Osmond’s only contact with the outside world was through his lawyer, a little-known attorney in New York who came out of nowhere. We suspected that this lawyer, one Hudson McCormack, was more than just a defence attorney. We started to think that he might be the outside contact for his jailed client. My partner at the FBI who was running the Larkin case e-mailed me McCormack’s picture because, by pure coincidence, he showed up in Monte Carlo. Life’s funny that way. Officially, he came here for a regatta, but you know as well as I do that official reasons can hide more important unofficial ones.’