DRIVING HOME, CHARLES RAYNAUD tried to control himself. He was totally, blindly furious. He would willingly have throttled Pierce a dozen times over during the evening.
Which was, of course, the object of the game.
Things were now much clearer, and for that he was grateful. Pierce had a strategy which was simple enough: to goad Raynaud into a murder attempt. Pierce had provided the weapon, and now he was providing the motive, the provocation.
Humiliation.
As he drove, Raynaud smiled. If Richard wanted Raynaud to kill him, Raynaud would oblige him. Raynaud would give him one hell of a murder attempt.
And, of course, fail.
But not quite the way Richard expected.
Back at Richard’s flat, he found Dominique sitting alone in the living room, smoking a cigarette and rubbing her shoulders as if she were cold.
“He back yet?”
She nodded, and jerked her thumb toward the kitchen. She gave a slight shiver.
Raynaud said, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”
She needs a fix, he thought. She needs it very badly. He leaned over her and gave her a reassuring smile, but was careful to notice her eyes. The pupils were dilated. Yes, he thought, she needs a fix.
Raynaud walked out into the kitchen, remembering what Richard had said about Dominique and her heroin supply. Dominique had no money, and apparently no contacts. Yet she was getting stuff. Regularly.
Richard was in the kitchen, his jacket off, his shirtsleeves rolled up, mixing a drink.
“You were a bloody bore tonight,” Richard said.
“I imagine you thought so.”
“Bloody right I thought so. I’m paying you to keep me alive, not to be a bore.”
“You don’t look dead yet.”
“No thanks to you.” Richard poured two drinks and nodded to Raynaud to take one. “By the way, what did you think of her?”
“I liked her well enough.”
“Did you,” Richard said. “I hadn’t noticed. I thought you were indifferent to her.” He lit a cigarette, and said, “The poor girl, all alone in London, such a big city. We’re meeting for lunch, you know.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yes. Just the two of us.”
“That’s nice.”
“I’d invite you along,” Pierce said, “but you know how it is.”
“Yes, I do.”
Pierce laughed. “Why the long face, old buddy? I’ll be good to her.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Richard appeared surprised “You don’t mind?”
“Frankly,” Raynaud said, “I couldn’t give less of a damn.”