‘Don’t you ever do that to me again, Philippe,’ Megan said as they walked towards the lift a few minutes later. Not if you want to have a long happy marriage.’
‘What, my love?’
‘And don’t try to sweet talk me either. I want to stay cross with you for a long time!’
‘Comment?’
‘And don’t speak French, either.’
‘But I am French, darling. It’s what we do. It’s my mother tongue.’
‘Now you’re laughing at me!’ And he was.
However, by the time the lift had reached the ground floor, they had kissed and made up. But only after Philippe Maigret had solemnly promised, with his hand on his heart, that he would never again – in this or any other Universe! – presume to speak on Megan’s behalf without first knowing her thoughts on the subject under discussion.
The next day Chief Inspector Scott’s hastily arranged information gathering plan was put into action, but not without opposition.
‘This is the most ludicrous surveillance operation in which I’ve ever had the misfortune to be involved,’ Philippe Maigret said. It was not the first time he’d voiced his objections but now he was incredulous. ‘Two strangers, one dressed like a vicar, walk in off the street to ask for old books? How believable is that? It will never work. Who would do such a thing? Nicole will smell a rat the moment you’re inside the door. Assuming she actually lets you in the door in the first place.’
‘Of course it will work. People do it all the time in the summer when the local churches are having their fairs. I’ve done it lots of times myself,’ Megan said calmly.
‘They just give you their old books? It’s incredible! Are these people mad? Have they no souls?’ At that moment the penny dropped for Megan. ‘Sweetie, you do realise that we’re not talking about antique books or First Editions, don’t you? People give us paperbacks or old travel guides and children’s books. Any books they no longer need but that other people might like. And not just books. Bric-a-brac and old pieces of jewellery too. People donate lots of saleable things, especially when it’s for a church or a charity. It’s an upmarket form of recycling. Don’t people do that in Paris?’
Philippe shrugged. ‘Maybe, in the marché aux puces or places like that, but not where… ’
‘Oh, I see! In the flea market, but not in the 16th arrondissement, or any other posh parts of Paris, like those where chief inspectors might choose to live.’
‘And now you’re calling me a snob as well as an ignoramus,’ he laughed. ‘Which is unfair because you know where I live and it’s not in the 16th!’
An hour later, Megan Lisle together with the chubby Met policeman, Sergeant Andrew Gillespie – looking slightly red-faced and uncomfortable in his vicar’s collar – started their door-knocking assignment in the small development of mews houses where Nicole and the mysterious Serge Vachon lived. To make this seem more real they knocked on the first door they came to, in case they were being watched. No one was home. At number two they scored a dozen dog-eared paperbacks mostly written by Philip Pullman or Jeffrey Archer. And a few more were donated at number three. Finally they reached the fourth house which was Nicole’s. This time there was a door bell which they rang. No answer. They rang again.
‘Looks like no one’s home,’ Andy Gillespie said, wiping perspiration off his face.
‘I think someone is. I just saw a curtain twitch upstairs. Ring the bell again, Andy, and remember, you do the talking and I’ll just observe.’
‘Gotcha.’
He rang the bell again, this time more vigorously and for a longer time.
‘Someone’s coming,’ Megan whispered. ‘This is it: curtain up and best foot forward!’ She could hardly wait to see the woman to whom Philippe Maigret had once been married. Not that she was jealous or anything. Oh, no – not much!
‘Are you Jehovah’s Witnesses or Seventh Day Adventists?’ Nicole asked sharply when she finally opened the door. She had an artist’s brush parked behind her right ear, there was a smudge of red paint on one cheek, and more than a trace of an accent. She had worn well, but she was no beauty, Megan thought.
‘Neither, we’re just plain old Anglicans,’ replied Andy pleasantly. ‘I do hope we haven’t come at a bad time, Madam.’
‘Well actually you have. What do you want?’ By now Andy Gillespie had his foot wedged firmly in the door so it couldn’t be shut in their faces. She looked suspiciously at Megan who remained silent.
‘We’re from St Luke’s, down the road. We wondered if you might have some old books you could donate for our summer fair.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Or anything at all, it doesn’t really matter,’ Andy persisted. ‘Perhaps you have some bric-a-brac, or art of some kind. I see you’re an artist; perhaps you might donate some of your own work as a raffle prize?’
‘I feel faint,’ Megan said weakly. ‘It’s the heat. I need a glass of water. I must sit down for a moment.’
Nicole let them in, but very reluctantly. Why is she so guarded, Megan thought? What’s she hiding? She looked around the room. It was an artist’s studio; light and bright, and it opened on to a small, pretty garden. She sat down on an ancient sofa and looked more carefully at her surroundings, trying to form a photographic image in her mind. There was a painting on an easel which looked like a Parisian street scene, but it was completely dry, so could not have been responsible for the smudge on Nicole’s face. Megan signalled to Andy who responded by a thumbs up. He’d also noticed that the painting wasn’t wet.
While she looked, she also listened carefully. I think I heard a floorboard creak upstairs, she thought. Someone else is in the house. She looked at Andy again and tilted her head towards the ceiling. He nodded and gave her the thumbs up signal again. As Nicole brought the water to Megan a dog’s face suddenly appeared at the garden door.
‘Oh, you have a dog!’ Andy said. ‘What variety is he or she?’
‘Who knows? He’s a mixed breed; part this, part that. Heinz 57 varieties one might say!’
She looked at Megan. It was a strange kind of look: cautious, defiant and jittery, all rolled up in one weird look. Why should she look at me like that? Megan thought. What have I ever done to her?
‘His name is Max,’ Nicole said. She called ‘Max, Max,’ and clicked her fingers, but the dog didn’t budge.
‘Looks like he’s not ready to come inside yet,’ Andy said. ‘But we must not take any more of your time. Do you think you have anything for our fair, Madam?’
‘Not now. But if you give me your phone number I might have something in a few days.’
Nice try, lady, Andy thought, but we’re a step ahead of you. He handed her a business card which Scotland Yard had printed for him earlier that morning. It had both his actual mobile number, and a specially designated Scotland Yard landline number, which would be answered by a policewoman pretending to be his wife if Nicole called.
Then they left, happy to escape the toxic atmosphere that seemed to fill the house, and desperate for a cup of coffee. But first they had to knock on the rest of the doors in that Maida Vale development, because this time they knew, without a shadow’s shadow of a doubt, that they would be watched.
‘Phew,’ said Andy Gillespie when they were out of earshot, ‘I’m certainly relieved that’s over. I was worried about whoever was upstairs. I think we’re lucky to have escaped still wearing our skin!’
‘Definitely, but it was worth it. I have lots of stuff to tell your chief inspector when we’re debriefed.’
‘Debriefed,’ Andy repeated with a chuckle. ‘Hark at you! You need to mix with a better class of person, Megan, there’s far too much police influence in your life at present.’
‘I’m afraid you’re right, Andy,’ she laughed. ‘But I fear it’s too late for me.’
Once they were safely in Elgin Avenue again they fell into each other’s arms, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
‘Oh my great-grandfather’s whiskers,’ Andy Gillespie said. ‘What a weird experience! I didn’t think she was ever going to let us in. Not even with my foot halfway in the door.’
‘Why do you think I suddenly felt faint?’
‘You’re a class act, Mrs Lisle.’
‘And so are you, Father Gillespie. But let’s never, ever give an encore performance!’
‘I agree!’
However, before very long, they would be called on to do exactly that.