Twenty-six

‘I still don’t understand why they asked you to conduct the investigation,’ said Santer. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it, and Rocco had a feeling he was leading up to something.

‘They just did and that’s it,’ he said. ‘Not mine to reason why.’

‘Really? Well, I have my suspicions.’ Santer picked up his glass and gave an almost delicate sip, pursing his lips to fully savour the flavour of the pale wine. It was a fine Chablis, Rocco could tell that by the look of satisfaction that glided across the captain’s face. Not for nothing did he have a reputation among his colleagues as something of a gourmet, although it wasn’t often that he could indulge himself like this.

They were sitting in Le Vieux Poêle on the outskirts of Montigny, and had dispensed with the first course, a delicate langoustine. They were now waiting for the salmon, which Santer had expressly ordered the evening before to make sure they weren’t out of it. The captain was being deliberately cagey about telling Rocco what he’d learned, but Rocco wasn’t concerned. He’d spill the information eventually, once the wine had loosened his tongue and his appetite had been dented. It was a game his former boss liked to play in return for the reward he was about to enjoy.

‘Go on, thrill me,’ Rocco encouraged him and tasted the wine. It was crisp and fruity, with a subtle aftertaste that hung on the back of his tongue and lingered in his throat.

‘Think about it.’ Santer leaned forward, nearly upsetting a basket of bread. ‘The Ministry is huge. They’ve got investigators coming out of their ears: military, civil, intelligence, security, scientific – quite apart from people like the Dreycourt character you told me about. It’s an ants’ nest of experts, that place.’ He looked abashed. ‘Not that I’m saying you’re not expert, of course I’m not – you’d put them all to shame. But still–’ He broke off as the salmon arrived, and sat back with a look of reverence as it was served. ‘God, I love this place.’

Neither of them spoke until the waiter had gone and they had each taken the first forkful of pale pink fish. For a few seconds Santer looked as if he were in heaven, eyes closed and a soft smile on his face. Then he continued: ‘They’ve also got reach, in the Ministry, you know that. They control every corner of this country, with informants round every corner.’ He checked that nobody was close enough to overhear and said, ‘It’s a police state, only nobody likes to call it that because who the hell wants to live in one of those? We’re not the USSR, after all, controlled by those shovel-smacked faces in the Politburo.’ 

‘Does all this have a point?’ said Rocco mildly, playing his part. ‘Fish good?’

‘Fantastic. Beautiful. I must bring my wife here – she’d love it. And yes, it has a point.’ He poked his fork at Rocco. ‘The point is I worry about you, Lucas. How far do you have to go in any town before you see a uniform? Tell me.’

‘Not far.’

‘Correct. And that’s not counting the non-uniforms, the ones you don’t see.’

‘Now you’re sounding paranoid. Does this fish contain mercury?’

‘What?’ Santer stared at his plate. ‘What makes you say such a thing?’ Then he smiled. ‘Ah, one of your jokes. You had me worried for a moment. You’re thinking of the Japanese thing a few years ago, aren’t you? Well, forget it – these are freshwater fish from Aquitaine, absolutely clean, no impurities. What was I saying? Oh, yes. But you’re right. I am paranoid – and with reason. You’ve been chosen, my fine young friend, to do this job for one reason and one reason only.’ He scooped up another mouthful of fish and chewed with relish.

Rocco knew what was coming. ‘Go on.’

‘You’ve been set up to fail.’ 

‘You think?’ Rocco could see what he was driving at because he’d had similar thoughts himself, especially after Dreycourt’s warning that nobody else wanted to touch it. ‘If that was true,’ he countered reasonably, ‘they could have chosen someone inexperienced.’

‘Ah, but that’s where they’ve been clever, see. Bourdelet is a scandal in the making. They can’t have that. It would be bad for the government if everyone knew the finance secretary had been dipping into secret state coffers. He’ll be written off … but as a suicide while of unsound mind due to stress. It happens all the time: a casualty of events for the sake of the country. They’ll read eulogies about what a fine chap he was, a loyal servant of the state, hardworking, blah-blah-blah. Then you’ll hear no more about it.’

‘What about the other two?’

‘Exactly my point. Bourdelet alone, that can be explained away. But throw in two more top dogs buying forgeries and being blackmailed for specified crimes, and it’s got enough combustion to lift the roof off the Élysée Palace. That’s not so easy to hide. So they have to have a main whipping post … which comes back to poor old Bourdelet. Tough on him but he wasn’t that popular, anyway. So, what to do? They can’t not have an investigation, as that would set tongues wagging. So, who will do it? Choose one of their own insiders and they could be accused of trying to hide something, to control events. I’d be surprised, anyway, if any of their own people wanted to go anywhere near it for fear of the result. Bourdelet being an obvious exception, and forgive me for being tasteless, but government employees are not known for committing professional hara-kiri if they can help it.’

‘True.’

‘On the other hand, if they chose someone inexperienced, they’d have the press and the opposition parties on their backs for not taking the matter seriously. By choosing you, a detective with a top record of successful investigations, they can demonstrate that they’ve put their best man on the job … and Bourdelet will still be written off and everyone will be happy. Job done. A big shame but he was a bad one, but …’ He shrugged and set about clearing his plate.

‘There’s only one thing wrong with that theory,’ said Rocco. ‘If I’m supposed to be so good, what if I solve the case and find the painter and the blackmailer and his accomplices?’

‘Same thing, my friend. That’s when they’ll shut the case down and bury it, because that way they can prove they did their best but without any huge scandal. You won’t ever let the cat out of the bag because that’s the way you are. You’ll go back to your day job and forget all about it.’

Rocco couldn’t fault Santer’s logic. He’d gone through the various possibilities himself more than once. Even he knew there were scandals that the government could not possibly allow to become public, not at the present time. It made him wonder if Santer was aware of his new job offer. The timing of the offer and his being handed the investigation were a pure coincidence, but others might not see it that way. In any case, he figured Santer didn’t know, since that would have been the first question the captain would have hit him with today.

‘What about Vauquelin?’ 

‘The painter’s agent and lawyer? Well, I already told you about him. My friend says to be very careful of that one. Vauquelin’s lost a lot of credibility on the court circuit recently, which must have put a serious dent in his case load and income. But he’s got friends in low places who don’t mind playing rough, so you should watch your back.’ He eyed Rocco’s plate, which still wasn’t clear, with interest. ‘Are you going to eat that fish or not?’