The Ways of the World (27 page)

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Authors: Robert Goddard

BOOK: The Ways of the World
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‘Certainly.’ Appleby nodded and cast Max a fleeting glance of highly provisional approbation. There was an unspoken agreement between them to keep Lemmer’s name out of this for as long as they could. Max did not seriously believe Appleby suspected him of Lamb’s murder. Their alliance, such as it was, remained in place.

Carver and Appleby left the room. Silence settled in the smoke-laden air. The guards swapped places either side of the door. Max and Sam had much to discuss, but were in no position to discuss it. Max sighed and discarded the ice-bag. Water oozed out on to the desk.

‘You should keep that on, sir,’ said Sam. ‘There’s nothing like ice for a bruise.’

‘Thank you, matron.’

‘You know I’m right, sir.’

‘God damn it.’ Max snatched up the ice-bag and reapplied it to his head. ‘Happy?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘How did the job interview go?’

‘I start tomorrow. Assuming I ever get out of here.’

‘You will, Sam, don’t worry. Leave it to Appleby.’

Rather to Sam’s surprise, Max’s words proved prophetic. When Appleby and Carver returned about ten minutes later, Carver announced the questioning was at an end.

‘In Ennis’s absence, I propose to regard your … scuffle … as a private altercation. I’ll pursue the matter with him when he returns to the hotel and I’ll check your account with Ireton, so don’t think you’ve heard the last of this, Mr Maxted. Or you, Mr Twentyman.’

‘I don’t see where—’ Sam began. But he was cut off by Appleby.

‘I’ll walk the two of you out. Shall we go?’

No further word was spoken until Max, Sam and Appleby were standing out on the Place de la Concorde, some distance from the entrance to the Crillon. The men who had accompanied Appleby earlier were waiting in a car at the corner of Rue Royale. Appleby made a meal of relighting his pipe and gazed pensively in the direction of the National Assembly, on the far side of the Seine.

‘I really am sorry about Lamb, Appleby,’ said Max. ‘Believe it or not.’

‘You should be. It was your fault as much as mine.’

‘I don’t see how I’m to blame.’

‘They killed him to demonstrate their reach and capability. And to send a message. This was left in his pocket.’ Appleby pulled a piece of paper from inside his coat and handed it to Max. It was folded in half, with JAMES MAXTED written in pencilled capitals on one flap. Max unfolded it to read the message inside. LEAVE PARIS OR DIE – FINAL WARNING. ‘I take it from the wording that this isn’t the first such threat you’ve received.’

‘You take it correctly.’

‘Blimey,’ said Sam, peering at the note over Max’s shoulder.

Max passed it back to Appleby. ‘Did you tell Carver about this?’

‘I told Carver as little as possible. But the same doesn’t apply to you and Twentyman, does it?’

‘You can trust Sam.’

‘You mean I have to because you do.’

‘We’re playing for the same team, Mr Appleby,’ said Sam. He sensed it would be better to enlighten Appleby about his new job before anyone else did, so on he went. ‘I work for the British delegation, just like you do. Meet your new chief mechanic.’

‘You?’

‘They don’t come better qualified.’

Appleby frowned sceptically at Sam, then turned to Max. ‘Listen to me very carefully. I may not know what you’ve been doing since Lamb was killed, but those who killed him probably do. And this threat’ – he flapped the note in Max’s face – ‘isn’t an idle one.’

‘I’m aware of that.’

‘I don’t want the Americans pursuing Lemmer in their size-twelve boots. I don’t want the French on his trail either. I want
you
to find him. But you don’t have long to pull it off.’

‘I know. That’s why I tried to force the pace with Ennis.’

‘You think he’s one of Lemmer’s spies?’

‘It would explain why he cut and run.’

‘If you’re right, I can’t keep Carver in the dark indefinitely.’ Appleby forced a smile. ‘It wouldn’t be good for Anglo-American relations.’

‘How did you persuade him to let us go?’

‘I said we were more likely to get to the bottom of this with you on the loose. Which is true, of course.’

‘Don’t put anyone else on my tail, Appleby. It’s too dangerous.’

‘In the circumstances, I’m forced to agree with you.’

‘I’ll keep you fully informed of what I learn.’

‘I doubt that. But remember, you won’t be able to tackle Lemmer without help from me. It would be a fatal mistake to think you can. Do you actually have any more leads to follow?’

‘A few.’

‘Courtesy of Ireton?’

‘He’s useful.’

‘He probably thinks the same of you.’

‘What about Corinne? Can I visit her?’

Appleby sighed heavily. ‘Yes. It wasn’t easy to arrange, let me tell you. But I managed to fix it with Zamaron.’

‘Thank you. When?’

Appleby consulted his watch. ‘There’s no time like the present.’

‘Fine.’ Max gave a grim little smile. ‘As things stand, it’s probably the only time I’ve got.’

 

LEAVING SAM TO
get on with his move from the Mazarin to the Majestic, Max set off for Police Headquarters with Appleby. Sam’s parting shot was a pained comment on the rattly note of their car engine. ‘I’ll have ’em all running sweeter than that by next week, I guarantee it.’

‘He will too,’ said Max, glancing back at Sam’s receding figure on the edge of the broad pavement as they accelerated away across the Place de la Concorde.

Appleby groaned. ‘If I had any sense, I’d veto his appointment. Allowing you to have an informant on the delegation’s payroll is plain reckless.’

‘This whole thing’s reckless, Appleby. And as far as I know I’m working for you
gratis
, so it seems only fair for Sam to draw a wage.’

‘Well, Twentyman’s employment isn’t high on my agenda, Mr Maxted, so—’

‘Why don’t you call me Max, like everyone else?’

‘All right. Max. Did Ennis give you anything to go on?’

‘Not really. But I’ve been thinking about the circumstances of my father’s fatal fall. I mean the
exact
circumstances.’

‘And?’

‘Could le Singe be involved?’

‘Ah. You’ve heard about him, have you?’

‘A burglar who comes and goes by rooftops and high windows. He fits the bill, doesn’t he?’

‘A burglar isn’t generally a murderer. They’re very different lines of work.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Well, if you want to learn more about le Singe … Max … ask your friend Ireton. I have reason to believe he may have used le Singe to procure secret documents for him on several occasions.’

‘Really? Well, I’ll certainly do that.’

Max considered what he knew of Travis Ireton as the car sped east along the Quai des Tuileries. He had supposed Ireton was on no one’s side but his own. Could he have misread the man, though? Ireton had certainly contrived to obstruct Max’s enquiries while claiming to want to help him. Was he covering someone’s tracks – perhaps his own? Max was going to have to find out. Soon.

Zamaron was not available at Police HQ, but he had left word that Max was to be allowed to visit Corinne Dombreux. His permission came with a condition attached, though – one Appleby had chosen not to mention until now.

‘You can’t see her on your own, Max. I have to be there as well. Apparently, Léon doesn’t trust you not to engage in some form of criminal conspiracy with Madame Dombreux.’

‘Are you sure this isn’t your condition, Appleby? It gives you a chance to question her.’

‘That’s true. But, no, it was Léon’s idea.’

‘Or so you let him think.’

‘You’re getting very suspicious, aren’t you?’

‘I need to be suspicious.’

‘Well, I won’t disagree with you there.’

The room they were taken to was a small, bare chamber buried in the dank basement of the building. Chairs were arranged either side of a table nearly as wide as the room: two on one side, one on the other, closer to the door. They took the two and waited.

A few minutes slowly elapsed, then Corinne arrived, escorted by a grim-faced policewoman. Corinne was wearing a shapeless grey dress. She looked pale and anxious. The smile she gave Max was a fragile shaft of hope. He rose to greet her and the policewoman barked out, ‘
Ne pas toucher
’. Meekly, he sat down again.

‘I’m so sorry about all of this, Corinne,’ he said, looking directly at her.

‘Commissioner Zamaron insisted I be here,
madame
,’ said Appleby.

Corinne glanced at Appleby, then sat down in the chair facing them. She gazed soulfully at Max across the table. ‘I’m glad you came, Max,’ she said softly. ‘But you should forget me and leave Paris. I’m beyond your help.’

‘I don’t accept that. And I’m going nowhere until you’re free.’

‘Have you been mistreated,
madame
?’ Appleby asked.

She shook her head. ‘Not in the sense you mean.’

‘I’m getting closer to the truth all the time, Corinne,’ said Max. ‘If I’m successful, they’ll have to release you.’

‘Have charges been mentioned to you?’ asked Appleby.

‘No.’

‘Have you seen a lawyer?’

‘No.’

‘Have you asked to see one?’

Corinne looked at him witheringly. ‘It’s been made very clear to me that under wartime regulations I have no rights, Mr Appleby. I assume
le Deuxième Bureau
are pulling the strings.’

‘I think that’s a sound assumption,
madame
. Your marriage to a known traitor—’

‘Was he a traitor, Corinne?’ Max cut in. ‘Do you really believe Pierre betrayed his country?’

‘It’s what they told me. I’m not sure what to believe about where Pierre’s loyalties truly lay.’

‘For what it’s worth,
madame
,’ said Appleby, ‘I don’t think you killed Raffaele Spataro.’

‘But your influence on
le Deuxième Bureau
or the Ministry of Justice is … what?’

‘Negligible, I’m afraid.’

‘Then I will remain here until they decide to charge and try me. And then …’

‘It won’t come to that,’ said Max. ‘I won’t let it.’

‘If you cause them enough trouble, Max, they’ll deal with you much as they’ve dealt with me.’

‘Commissioner Zamaron is a conscientious police officer,’ said Appleby. ‘He won’t ignore hard evidence that serves to exonerate you.’

‘But there isn’t any, is there?’ Strangely, Corinne seemed harder-headed than her visitors. ‘Motive, means and opportunity. I believe they’re what the police look for in these matters. And I appear to have had all three.’ She looked at Max. ‘You’ve been to the apartment?’

‘Yes.’

‘You saw his paintings?’

‘I did.’

‘Of course you did.’ She looked away then. ‘I’m sorry I posed for him. If I’d known …’

‘You have nothing to apologize for.’

‘Henry really would be proud of you, you know.’ Tears glistened in her eyes. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress.

Max longed to reach out and comfort her. A guilty memory came into his mind then of his night with Nadia Bukayeva. The guilt was multi-layered, for there had been a moment when he had begun to call Nadia Corinne. He had stifled the word and Nadia had been too absorbed in her own pleasure to notice. But he knew. He knew and he could not forget.

‘Don’t take any risks on my account, Max. Please. I’m not worth it.’

‘Did Pierre – or my father – ever mention a man called Fritz Lemmer?’

‘No. Who is he?’

‘F.L., Corinne. The initials on the list.’

‘I know about the list,
madame
,’ said Appleby.

Corinne registered mild surprise at that, but did not dwell on it. ‘I’ve never heard the name before,’ she declared. ‘Is he … responsible for Henry’s death?’

‘He may be. But—’


Fini
,’ the policewoman interrupted, gesturing at a watch she had pulled out of her tunic.

‘No one told me there was a time limit,’ Max protested. ‘Appleby?’

Appleby shrugged. ‘Rules and regulations. There’s nothing I can do.’

‘He’s right, Max,’ said Corinne. ‘There’s nothing you can do either. Please—’


Le temps est épuisé
,’ the policewoman announced, advancing to Corinne’s shoulder.

Corinne stood up, holding Max’s gaze. ‘The only thing that could make this worse is if I hear you’ve come to harm, Max. If you won’t agree to leave Paris—’


Allons-y
,’ snapped the policewoman, leading her away by the arm.

She did not resist.

‘I’ll be careful,’ Max called after her. But he did not intend to be careful. He never had been. And he knew he could not help Corinne by changing now.

Max could find nothing to say to Appleby after Corinne had gone. And Appleby had the decency to let him stay silent as they made their way upstairs and out into the courtyard where the car was waiting.

‘I’ll walk from here,’ Max announced.

Appleby looked unsurprised. ‘Apart from giving Madame Dombreux something to worry about – your safety – what do you reckon that visit accomplished, Max?’

‘I don’t judge everything I do by what it accomplishes, Appleby. Sometimes I just … do.’

‘And what are you going to
do
next?’

‘Keep pushing. Until I can see who’s pushing back.’

 

MAX PURGED SOME
of his anger and frustration by walking so fast other pedestrians on the darkening streets made way for him with alarmed looks on their faces. He suspected his expression told its own story. The time had come to demand of Travis Ireton some direct answers to some direct questions.

But at 33 Rue des Pyramides Malory Hollander had bad news for him. ‘Travis said you might call by, Max,’ she said, treating him to her knowing smile. ‘I’m afraid he’s had to leave town.’


What?

‘An influential personage is arriving from New York to join the American delegation. Travis is anxious to meet him when his ship docks at Brest tomorrow morning. His train should have left’ – she adjusted her glasses to study the clock – ‘about forty minutes ago.’

Max shook his head morosely. ‘Damn the fellow.’

‘I’m sorry. It was a last-minute decision.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it was.’

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