The Secret

‘Damn right I’m angry. I didn’t know Aline Lagarde well but from what I saw I liked and respected her. She, like my friend Dr Ricard, was doing an incredibly difficult job — one that I couldn’t do — for very little in the way of thanks or reward and she ends up being raped and strangled in the heart of the “civilised” world and the best you and your bozos can do is question me about it.’

Le Grice turned to his colleagues. ‘Leave us.’

This was something Steven hadn’t expected.

Le Grice offered Steven a cigarette which Steven declined, then lit one himself, drawing on it deeply before exhaling and making sure the smoke went upwards by protruding his lower lip. At least we’ve avoided that little cliché, thought Steven.

‘Dr Lagarde wasn’t raped,’ Le Grice said matter-of-factly.

‘Then what the hell was that all about?’

‘She wasn’t robbed... and she wasn’t strangled.’

Steven’s eyes opened wide. ‘Are you telling me that she’s still alive?’ he exclaimed.

‘Unfortunately not. She’s dead, shot through the back of the head with a nine millimetre pistol. Her money and her passport were still in the room and there were no signs of sexual assault.’

‘A professional hit?’

‘All the signs,’ agreed Le Grice.

Steven took a few moments to come to terms with the information before asking, ‘Why all the play-acting?’

‘We couldn’t imagine Dr Lagarde coming across too many hit men in her line of work but, by some strange coincidence, she was about to have dinner with a man who might conceivably fit the bill...’

Steven screwed up his eyes for a moment, reluctantly accepting the logic. ‘I’m hardly that,’ he said softly.

‘A Sci-Med investigator with a military past including service with British Special Forces.’

‘I had nothing to do with Aline’s death.’

‘No, I know you didn’t,’ said Le Grice, ‘but I had to be sure. You had nothing to do with Dr Ricard’s death either; we checked you weren’t in Prague at the time of the “accident”. Any idea what’s going on?’

‘None at all.’

‘What’s Sci-Med’s interest?’

‘It’s personal,’ said Steven, ‘not official. Simone Ricard was my friend. I felt I owed it to her to make sure her death was accidental. I thought it was and now this happens...’

Le Grice smiled distantly. ‘Dr Ricard was French but her death is being regarded by the Czech police as an accident so there is no call for us to become involved. Dr Lagarde’s death is quite another matter. We will continue to investigate her murder using all means at our disposal, although the involvement of a professional assassin will... complicate things.’

Steven nodded his agreement.

‘If, however, you intend to maintain your interest, perhaps we might exchange notes... cooperate on our findings?’

‘Of course,’ said Steven, ‘although to be honest I don’t quite know where to start.’

‘Then we are as one already,’ said Le Grice, getting up. He offered his hand then gave Steven his card. ‘You’re free to go, doctor.’

The air tasted sweet: freedom did have a taste, Steven decided as once again he headed towards a river. It made him reflect on how often he did this in London. There was something about flowing water that drew him, something about the continual motion that calmed his mind and helped him think clearly. What he had to decide was if there was anything he should do in Paris before he returned to London. He couldn’t think of anything offhand but this was more a reflection of what little he had to go on than a conviction that there was nothing more to be done here. He needed to think things through logically to be sure, but first he would call Macmillan and Tally.

‘So they let you go; must have been the impeccable reference I gave you,’ said Macmillan when told of his release.

‘Must have been,’ agreed Steven. ‘We have to talk when I get back. Things aren’t what they seem.’

‘I feared as much.’

Tally didn’t answer her phone and Steven concluded she must still be on duty at the hospital. He left her a text message before returning to river watching.

The spat between Simone and the rival aid organisation had to be his starting point. It didn’t seem much but Aline had injected more into the mix by suggesting there might be more to it. If only she’d lived long enough to say what it was. It had been her intention to talk to her bosses at Médecins Sans Frontières about it but that was scheduled for the day after she’d been murdered... There was a chance, however, that she might have had some sort of conversation with someone at the aid organisation when she called to make the appointment. He needed an address for Med Sans. He used his BlackBerry to establish a web link and Googled it.