Aimedieu was arguing with Duval when they appeared. They arrived at Madame Bonhomme’s by a circuitous route so they wouldn’t be seen from Lafarge’s house and pulled to a stop by her back door. Aimedieu had Duval against the wall. Aimedieu was pale and worried and Duval was trying to thrust past him, watched by an agitated Madame Bonhomme.
‘Name of God, Patron,’ Aimedieu said. ‘I’m glad you’ve arrived! I couldn’t have kept him much longer.’
Duval stared from one to the other. ‘What is this?’ he demanded. ‘Is this how you usually behave in the provinces? I was about to question a suspect at a house down the road there when this idiot rushed out and said I mustn’t. When I demand to know who he is, he says he’s just a sergeant. I’m an inspector.’
‘And I,’ Pel rapped, ‘am a chief inspector. I think we’d better go inside.’
Duval was still arguing as Pel pushed him ahead of him through Madame Bonhomme’s door. When he was still inclined to argue, Bardolle’s bulk, crowding up behind, carried him through. Aimedieu went straight back to his lookout post.
‘It’s all right, Patron,’ he said. ‘There’s no movement. Nobody’s noticed anything.’
Madame Bonhomme put her head round the door. ‘I can make coffee, if you wish,’ she offered. ‘I also have tea if any of you gentlemen like it. Also, of course, I have wine, which I imagine you might prefer. Cold wine. It will cool tempers, won’t it?’
‘That would be splendid, Madame,’ Pel said. He advanced on Duval who was obliged to take a step backwards. Finding a chair behind his knees, he collapsed into it.
‘I’d like to know what’s going on,’ he said angrily.
‘You will in a second,’ Pel said. ‘First, let’s taste Madame’s excellent wine. It’ll give us time to recover our wits.’
Duval had no wish to be silent. ‘I’ve discovered that there’s a man across the road there who might have been involved in the robbery at Quigny,’ he said.
‘How did you discover?’
‘I spoke to the Baronne’s maid.’
‘You probably also got her beaten up,’ Pel said.
He didn’t add that she probably deserved it.
He tried to explain. ‘Of course he was involved in the robbery at Quigny,’ he said sharply. ‘We knew that within two days of it happening.’
‘Then–’ Duval looked bewildered ‘–why haven’t you arrested him?’
‘Because we’re after bigger fish. And the jewels. If we pick up Lafarge our man will disappear with the loot. He might even get scared and throw it in the river. And that will help nobody.’
‘You know he’s got the jewels? This man of yours?’
‘I’m damned sure he has.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Arion Nicopopoulos. Known as Nick the Greek.’
The name obviously meant something to Duval because he made no attempt to argue. ‘Why do you think he’ll come here?’ he asked.
‘Because we know he’s scared of being found with the loot.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘We wait.’
‘How long?’
‘As long as necessary.’
Duval took some convincing. Like most Paris police, he believed that everybody in the provinces was a half-wit. But they eventually got through to him and, finally, it became plain that his chief wish was not to be pushed out and return to Paris without being able to claim he had been in at the kill. In the end, they suggested he should relieve Brochard and maintain watch with Aimedieu so that he’d be there when Nick the Greek turned up.
‘I can recommend it,’ Aimedieu said. ‘Madame’s a good cook.’
When Duval finally agreed, Pel knew he was already working out ways of writing his report so that he could claim most of the credit for himself. He didn’t blame him. Nobody could blame a cop for looking after his future. After all, nobody else would.
‘Patron!’ Brochard said. The tape recorder had been set in motion by Lafarge picking up the telephone. ‘Someone’s calling.’
They crowded round the loudspeaker.
‘You know who this is?’ The squawky voice came clearly.
‘Yes.’ Lafarge’s voice came back. ‘It’s all right. It’s safe.’
‘Tonight, then. After dark.’
‘Have you made arrangements?’
‘Yes. Paris has organised it. We pass them on to Charlot. He’ll be waiting in the car on the road to Besançon. A blue Citroën. Number 4319 HA 75. He then heads north for Paris. You continue south. I’m going to Perpignan. If we’re picked up, we’re clean. We come together for the pickings a month from now.’
‘I’d rather keep the stuff.’ Lafarge’s voice was nervous.
‘The Boss’ fixed it this way.’
‘Suppose they pick us up en route?’
‘Why should they? All you have to do is drive nice and gently towards Besançon. Slowly. Never exceeding the speed limit and wearing seat belts, so they’ve no reason to worry you. Charlot will be waiting in the square at Lissy-sur-Ille. You park alongside and pass the stuff across. He drives off. You drive off. I drive off. It’s over and done in ten seconds.’
‘I’ll be ready.’
‘What about your family?’
Lafarge laughed. ‘Gone to mother’s in Vichy for a holiday.’
‘Do they know anything?’
‘Nothing. When they come back I’ll be somewhere else.’
‘Right. After dark, then. At 9.30.’
There was a click and the conversation finished.
‘Let’s hear it again,’ Pel said.
Brochard rewound the tape and restarted it. They listened carefully then Pel turned to Duval. ‘Satisfied?’
To his credit, Duval didn’t argue. ‘Of course, Chief,’ he said. ‘How do I help?’
Pel managed a smile. It was somewhat bleak but it acknowledged that he had accepted Duval.
‘What do you wish?’
‘I want to be first inside.’
Pel hesitated. He had a suspicion that if there were shooting – and there might well be – that Duval would get himself shot. Ah, well, he thought, better Duval than one of his own boys.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I shall be behind you.’
‘What about the suspects?’
‘We allow them to take the stuff–’
‘Away?’
‘We can cover the square at Lissy,’ Pel said. ‘Our people will pick up our friend, Charlot, whoever he is, watch his car and grab the lot as they hand over. We’ll have them tailed from here to Lissy.’ He turned to Darcy. ‘Arrange it, Daniel. Different cars to take over from each other so they don’t know they’re followed. And have that square at Lissy well covered. A car ready to seal every entrance so they can’t bolt. As soon as Nick and Lafarge enter it, block the exits so they can’t get out again.’
Darcy left nothing to chance, and even went to Lissy to make sure the local police knew exactly what they had to do. Everybody had been called in. He left De Troq’ and Bardolle in Lissy to take care of things, then headed back towards the city.
‘All set, Patron,’ he announced. ‘The main road’s narrow there and only one of the entrances into the square is really wide. They’ve arranged for a lorry to block that, so there’ll be no getting past. How about here?’
‘Nosjean and I will go in behind Duval as soon as they leave. I want that house going through with a fine-toothed comb. I think Pépé le Cornet’s the man Nick calls the Boss and there might be something in there that will connect him to it. I want it clearing as soon as they leave.’
‘Give them half an hour,’ Darcy suggested. ‘In case they forget something and come back.’
‘They won’t come back,’ Pel said. ‘They sounded too confident. Someone’s sewed this one up good and tight.’
It took some doing for Pel to sit still and appear not to be over-excited. He didn’t take kindly to sitting still when things were moving to a climax, but he had long since learned that a man who couldn’t delegate could make a hash of an arrest and he trusted his squad, especially Darcy, Nosjean and De Troq’.
He telephoned home, saying he’d be late, and sat down to go through the reports on his desk on the shootings at Pouilly and Montenay. He hadn’t, he felt, given them his full attention with the De Mougy thing hanging over him. But that was the way it always was. To cope with everything, a man needed two heads. After tonight, he hoped, they could forget De Mougy, but as Claudie brought him coffee and Cadet Martin brought him beer while he sat reading Bardolle’s report, he still managed to work his way through a whole pack of cigarettes. Despite what Bardolle had turned up about Tehendu, it didn’t make sense. Why would Tehendu shoot Madame Huppert who’d given him a chance? Was Tehendu some sort of stooge for the Paris mob?
Out at Madame Bonhomme’s, Aimedieu and Duval stared through the curtains until their eyes ached with concentrating. Nothing was moving and Aimedieu began to wonder if they’d been tricked. It had happened before.
At six o’clock Pel arrived with Nosjean. Madame Bonhomme let them in, quivering with excitement. Then Lagé appeared.
‘Everything ready?’ Pel asked.
‘Car waiting, Patron,’ Lagé reported. ‘Another one in sight of it in case something goes wrong. They’ll pick them up when we radio they’re on their way.’
At 9.30 p.m., when it was well and truly dark, the tape recorder clicked and the spools started turning. Aimedieu’s head lifted.
‘Patron!’
They crowded round, listening. It was the same voice they’d heard before.
Lafarge answered and the first voice spoke again. ‘All clear?’
‘Not a soul in sight. Where are you?’
‘Round the corner in the Rue Armand-de-Léon. I’ve got my car parked there. I’ll be outside the door in two minutes. Be ready.’
‘That’s Nick,’ Pel said quietly.
Two minutes later they saw a car slide quietly to a stop outside Lafarge’s house. Nothing flashy – a small modest Renault that wouldn’t attract attention.
‘Is that him?’ Madame Bonhomme asked eagerly.
‘I think it is, Madame,’ Pel said. ‘Now I’d be grateful if you’d sit in your kitchen – just in case there’s trouble.’
‘What sort of trouble?’
‘These are vicious crooks, Madame. Their kind have been known to use firearms.’
She disappeared as instructed, but she seemed very unwilling.
By the light of a solitary street lamp they saw a figure leave the car and go into Lafarge’s house. It was too far and too faint to tell who it was but the figure was young and tall and straight and carried a canvas hold-all.
‘That’s Nick,’ Nosjean said.
‘Patron.’ It was Aimedieu. ‘They’re coming out again.’
A figure appeared at the door opposite.
‘That’s Lafarge,’ Aimedieu said.
‘You sure? We don’t want any mistakes.’
‘Patron, I’ve been watching that place for days. I know the way he draws breath.’
The tall, straight figure reappeared, but it was Lafarge who was now holding the canvas bag. The two men talked together for a few seconds, then Lafarge climbed into the car. Nick slapped the bonnet and waved, then turned and began to walk quickly away.
Pel picked up the microphone of the radio. ‘Lagé. Nick’s on his way towards his car. Let him get round the corner then pick him up.’
‘Right, Patron.’
As Nick vanished they heard the little Renault’s engine start and saw the lights come on, then it moved slowly away.
‘Warn everyone.’
As Aimedieu began to call up on the car radio band, Pel reached for his own radio. Within seconds he was speaking to Darcy.
‘They’re on their way!’
As the little Renault that Lafarge was driving moved out of the Rue Dolour, it was picked up by a Mercedes waiting on the main road. Finding a place two cars behind, the Merc followed the Renault out of the city.
The radio crackled. ‘Patron, I think he’s suspicious. He keeps slowing down.’
‘When does Bardolle take over?’
‘Outside the city.’
‘Right. Stick with them. They’ll lose interest when they see your lights disappear.’
As the red Renault left the city, it began to head towards Lissy-sur-Ille. As it put the city outskirts behind it, the Mercedes dropped behind and a big Citroën took over.
After a couple of dozen kilometres, the radio squawked worriedly. Bardolle’s voice came. ‘He’s stopped, Patron. In the lay-by at Rolandpont.’
‘Any other car there?’
‘No, Patron. Just a lorry. It’s a big lay-by. Made out of the old road when they straightened the corner.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Other end. We coasted in without lights. He probably hasn’t seen us.’
‘Any contact with the lorry?’
‘No, Patron. I can see him quite plainly. He hasn’t left the car.’
‘Make a note of the lay-by and the lorry’s number. Keep him in sight.’
‘He’s got out, Patron. He’s pretending to take a leak. But his eyes are all over the place, I’ll bet. He’s making sure nobody’s following.’
Three times on the way to Lissy the red Renault stopped. But every time the car that pulled into the lay-by behind it was a different one. After the second time, the driver of the Renault didn’t bother to get out.
By this time the voice was Lacocq’s. ‘I think he’s satisfied he’s not being followed, Patron. He’s not worried any more. We’re close to Lissy and I think he feels he’s safe.’
‘Keep following. He’ll be picked up outside Lissy.’
After a while the red Renault moved off again. The Peugeot 604 which was tailing it now crept quietly out of the lay-by where Lafarge had stopped, keeping its lights out until two or three cars had passed, then it switched its lights on and took up a position two cars behind, keeping the Renault in sight all the time.
At the outskirts of Lissy, a fawn-coloured British Rover with white lights and carrying a GB plate took over. It was driven by a policeman from Lissy and the car was one which had been stolen and recovered. The policeman considered it a brainwave to use a foreign car without the yellow French lights.
The red Renault moved slowly into Lissy, heading through the narrow streets towards the square. As it entered the square a heavy lorry without lights edged forward and parked across the entrance just out of sight. A policeman climbed out of the back with a red lantern, ready to halt approaching cars. At the same time, the other entrances to the square were sealed by other cars, all out of sight. The man in the red Renault suspected nothing and coasted to a stop alongside a large Citroën which was parked in front of the church. Inside it, two men were smoking but, as the Renault stopped close alongside, the driver stubbed out his cigarette and began to wind down his window. Lafarge in the red Renault wound his window down, too, and the canvas hold-all was handed across the intervening space. The window was wound up again, the Citroën’s engine started and the two cars were just about to leave when a car which had been parked outside a bar opposite came to life, jerked forward, narrowly missed an old man who was heading for the bar, roared across the square, and came to a stop immediately behind the Citroën and the Renault, blocking their exit.
Three heads turned and three white faces were caught in the glow of headlights. Then three doors opened and the occupants of the cars leapt out. Immediately a search light was switched on in a window above the street, pinpointing them like butterflies pinned to a board.
‘Hold it! Police! Don’t move!’
The iron voice of a loud-hailer rang out in the narrow square. The old man on the way to the bar stopped dead and turned, wondering what was happening, as men emerged from doorways and parked cars. They were all armed. Windows opened and lights were switched on in bedrooms.
‘Drop the bag!’
The driver of the Citroën dropped the hold-all. Darcy appeared and smiled at the Citroën’s passenger.
‘Pat Boum,’ he said. ‘We wondered where you’d got to. Right, you lot, faces to the wall. Hands flat against it.’
The three men turned, leaning on their hands. Darcy, his gun in his hand, approached them cautiously, backed up by half a dozen other men. De Troq’ kicked the feet of the three men wider apart so that they couldn’t move without an effort. Hands patted their bodies. A Luger appeared from a shoulder holster under the Citroën driver’s arm. Pat the Bang’s pocket produced another. Lafarge was unarmed. Darcy picked up the canvas hold-all and, taking it to the front of the car, opened it in front of the headlights. Immediately he caught the glitter of jewellery.
‘All right, boys. I think we’ve got them.’
Pel was waiting by the radio at Madame Bonhomme’s. Across the road, a police car stood outside Lafarge’s house, where the door stood wide open. The lights were all on. Nosjean and Duval and two policemen were going through the place carefully, watched by a handcuffed and sullen Nick the Greek.
As the radio squawked, Pel snatched up the microphone. Darcy’s voice came. ‘We have them, Patron.’
‘And the jewels?’
‘Those, too. It’s over, Patron. We’ve picked up Pat the Bang. Ballentou was wrong when he said he and Nick wouldn’t work together. They were doing. He was the type who met Lafarge – Charles Arnemor, you’ll be pleased to know. Pépé le Cornet’s sidekick. He was to take the sparklers back to Paris just as Nick said. We’ve got the connection to Pépé.’
‘But not Pépé,’ Pel said. ‘He’ll swear it had nothing to do with him and he’ll have an alibi to prove it.’
Darcy sounded cheerful, nevertheless. ‘All the same, Patron, we can give him a bad time. He’ll probably decide to keep out of our diocese after this. After all, Arnemor’s his right hand man. He won’t enjoy seeing him go to jail.’
‘Neither,’ Pel said dryly, ‘will Arnemor.’
As he replaced the microphone, Nosjean arrived.
‘I’ve searched Nick’s place, Patron,’ he said.
‘Find anything?’
‘Yes. Explosives. Two kilos.’
‘Enough to blow a car inside-out. Who’s he after?’
‘Ballentou’s the one who’s been scared.’
‘What about De Mougy’s money?’
‘No sign of it, Patron. I expect that’s been dispersed long since.’
Pel shrugged. ‘De Mougy can afford to lose it. And he’ll be happy enough to get his heirlooms back.’
As Pel turned away, he saw Madame Bonhomme watching him.
‘Is it over?’ she asked.
Pel nodded. ‘It’s over, Madame. You can have your house back.’
She beamed and produced a bottle of wine. ‘I think, Chief Inspector, that we ought to have a drink. You, Pierre Aimedieu–’ Pierre, Pel noticed, not just Aimedieu ‘–and all the other gentlemen.’
‘There are a lot of them, Madame,’ Pel pointed out gravely. ‘And policemen are inclined to drink a lot.’
‘Never mind. There’s more where this came from. And I’ve become very attached to them. Especially to Pierre Aimedieu. He’s promised to visit me and, to an old woman living alone and unable to go out much, you can’t imagine what that means.’
Pel took the glass she offered him. ‘We owe you a considerable debt, Madame,’ he said. ‘How can we repay you?’
She smiled. ‘Well, when it comes up before the magistrates, I’d appreciate a seat in the public gallery.’
‘I think we can do better than that,’ Pel said. ‘You’ll be called as a witness to the theft of the bicycle that set the whole thing off and the magistrates will be able to compliment you personally from the bench.’ She beamed with pleasure and Pel went on. ‘But that isn’t very much, Madame. What else might we do?’
‘I’d like to have a look round Police Headquarters and see how things work. And I’d like a ride in a police car.’
Pel was surprised. He’d expected something much more sophisticated. A tour round the Hôtel de Police and a ride in a police car, followed by a testimonial from the Chief and a meal in the police canteen had been what they’d intended for young Petitbois, whose bicycle, retained for so long, had provided the first clue. Nevertheless…
His serious face cracked in a smile. ‘Would you object to a companion, Madame?’ he asked.