ever stop getting bigger? Start making sense?
Emeline slips the logs back into the kraft envelope with her name on it, folds the envelope, and shoves it into the inner pocket of her jacket. As she hears the sound of an approaching police siren, she acknowledges to herself that the envelope will probably stay there when she talks to whoever dispatch decided to send.
She has a sinking feeling the people in that photograph are somehow linked to Commander Diome’s odd behavior and whatever else is going on with Spangero and her colleagues from Bordeaux.
If she hands over that envelope, she might never see it again.
Whatever was going on behind the scenes when Clothilde died is still in progress. The threats to Klein were constant for thirty years, proving that if they figure out what happened to Clothilde, they might uncover more than past sins. Some are bound to be present.
Emeline doesn’t think Commander Diome is actually trying to cover up anything. He’s the one who brought Emeline down here to work on the case, after all. But he clearly has his hands tied, and the only thing he can do to help is keeping away from Emeline and her investigation.
If he doesn’t know what she’s up to, he can’t tell her to stop.
Emeline takes in the little room they’re in. Clothilde’s old room, now her mother’s sewing room. And that storage space, with all of Clothilde’s earthly belongings.
“I’d like to shove the desk back in front of the storage space,” she says to Joséphine. Outside, she can hear doors slamming and a second siren, this time from an ambulance, isn’t far-off.
“I know this doesn’t really make sense, but especially with that picture we found in mind, I don’t know who we can trust.” She holds Joséphine’s surprised gaze. “I want to look through all of Clothilde’s things because I want to figure out what happened to her thirty years ago. Both for Clothilde and for the people I think these people are still doing the same things to today.
“I’d like to tell my colleagues we found Lucien Klein’s box inside your mother’s desk. I’ll show them the autopsy report, and make sure the lawyer gets the one we haven’t opened.”
Joséphine’s gaze drops to Emeline’s jacket, but she doesn’t comment on the fact that Emeline didn’t say what she’d do with the third envelope.
Joséphine nods. “If it’s for Clothilde, I’m all in. Come on, before they come storming up here.”
They shove the desk back to its original position, effectively hiding the doors to the storage space. Emeline grabs Klein’s box and with the two envelopes inside, walks out to the landing to greet the officers coming up the stairs.
“This floor is secured,” Emeline tells them. “There’s an unconscious man in the last bedroom. He’s going to need medical assistance.”
The police officer, a man in his early thirties with dark hair and high cheekbones, nods in acknowledgment and lets the ambulance personnel behind him rush past.
Emeline holds up the box to show the man. “Got what we were looking for.” And without waiting for a reply, walks down the stairs, Joséphine following on her heels.
Twenty minutes later, the house has been emptied of bad guys, guns, police officers, and EMTs. Only Joséphine is left on the doorstep, shaking Emeline’s hand while Malik waits halfway down the path to the driveway.
“Thank you very much for your help,” Emeline says. “I appreciate it, and I’m sorry you ended up in the line of fire, quite literally. I’m sure Clothilde would be grateful, too.”
Joséphine has her arms crossed, running her hands up and down her arms as if she’s cold despite the pounding summer sun, but her eyes are clear and determined. “I’m the one who should be thanking you, Captain Evian. You showed me the truth about my marriage yesterday. Saved my life today. And I’m certain you’ll find justice for Clothilde next. If there is anything I can do to help on that front, let me know.”
“I will want to get my hands on those boxes once everything calms down a little.”
“You’ll get them. We were going to put the house up for sale anyway, so I’m going to have to empty it out. When we get started on that, I’ll make sure the boxes come your way. Just…” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment. “I’d like them back when you’re done. Maybe I can get that closure I never got thirty years ago.”
“Of course.” Emeline gives Joséphine her private number and address, then joins Malik. They walk quickly to the rental car down the next street in silence. Malik returns Robert’s bracelet and she secures it on her wrist where he belongs. With Clothilde.
Emeline gets into the driver’s seat and Malik’s sigh shows that he knows what’s coming.
“I’m sorry,” he says once Emeline starts driving.
“You should be.” Emeline isn’t angry, not really. But she can’t coddle him on this, or she’ll be doing them both a disservice. “You deviated from procedure so many times today, I don’t think I want to count them. You pull your Taser instead of your service weapon when the situation doesn’t call for it. You Taser a guy who is obviously on the list of profiles we’re not allowed to shoot at with those things. Do you know if he’s going to make it?”
Malik runs a hand down his face. “Looks like it. The EMT didn’t like the way his heart sounded but it was still beating. And he got a concussion from taking that ladder to the head, so they have to follow up on that too.”
“Was he at least being threatening when you shot him?”
Malik hangs his head but doesn’t answer.
“Where are they going to find the burn marks from the Taser, Malik?”
A sigh. “On his back.”
“You shot him in the—” Emeline lets out a frustrated breath. “You’re getting at least unpaid leave for this, Malik. What were you thinking?”
She holds up a hand. “Actually, I don’t even want to know. This is going to be Commander Diome’s problem and I’m going to let him deal with it.”
They drive in silence until they get caught in a traffic jam. Emeline glances over at her partner. “Why’d you have the Taser in the first place? You knew you wouldn’t be able to fire your gun, didn’t you?”
Malik’s answer is barely a whisper. “Yeah.”
“Then you shouldn’t have shown up for work. You should have talked to the therapist about it. You should have told me. It’s not a weakness to not want to kill people, Malik. Quite the contrary. But if you can’t get over your issues, your career in this position is over. You’ll end up with a desk job.”
“I don’t want a desk job!” The frustration and anger make him sound like a teenager, but Emeline much prefers it to the meek and defeated man from two minutes ago.
“Then deal with your issues so you can get back to working with me. This case is far from over.”
“You really found Clothilde’s autopsy report up there?”
“Yeah.” Emeline tells him about the report, about the letter to the lawyer. She doesn’t mention all of Clothilde’s stuff, or the envelope with her name on it. No point in telling him and then asking him to lie to his superiors when he’s already in a ton of trouble.
She’ll fill him in when he’s back and stable.
“So when are we going to see the lawyer?” Malik leans forward in his seat as they inch toward the traffic light causing the jam they’re currently in.
“I am going to see her this afternoon,” Emeline says. “You are going to do whatever Commander Diome tells you to do to save your job. But I will tell you about it when I can,” she adds when he slumps back into his seat.
They stay silent for the rest of the forty-five minute ride to the police station. Emeline opens her mouth several times to give her friend advice on how to handle the interviews he will have lined up, but closes it before any words come out.
This is one of those things he’s going to have to figure out for himself.