Rough Cut (19 page)

   “No. Too dangerous, they’ll be watching. And I know where he’s going anyway.”                    

_________________________

   Jacques watched the numbers roll round on the odometer as he drove along the road to La Garde-Freinet. A turning to the left came into sight and he swung the car into it, hardly slowing down at all. Once on the new road, he slowed down and referred to his notes.

   “Two hundred metres,” he said to himself before slowing down even more and then turning right onto a farm track.

   After Jacques’ car has passed by, Albert emerged from behind a tree. He watched the car travel along the track and then put his phone to his ear.

   “Il est seul,” he said and then turned and looked along the road where Jacques had come from. “Et personne ne suit,” he continued before starting to walk down the track towards the farmhouse.

   Jacques’ car crawled up to the brow of the small hill and stopped about fifty yards from the farmhouse. He looked intently and nervously at the farmhouse. It was quiet; nothing moved.               

_________________________

   Several miles behind Jacques, Carter’s car followed the route Jacques had taken earlier. Conrad was in the car with him, sitting in the passenger seat with a map laid out on his lap next to the piece of paper on which Carter had written the directions. Carter listened as Conrad spoke to him.

   “It’s the next one.” He said and looked up as the car came to a crossroads. “Yeah, that one.”        

   Conrad put out his hand to steady himself as Carter veered off to the right onto a road into the mountains, tyres screeching.                  

_________________________

   Up ahead of Carter and Conrad, Jacques’ car slowly started moving again, towards the farmhouse and then stopped when it got close to it. Jacques got out of the car and approached the farmhouse. He looked all around as he did, uncertain of what he was about to discover.

   When he reached the farmhouse, Jacques opened the front door and went in. The man on the phone had told him to wait there and that he would be contacted, but as he entered the hallway, he saw Yvonne through the open doorway at the end of the passageway beside the staircase. She was gagged and tied to a chair placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. Behind her was the farmhouse’s back door.

   Framed by the doorway from the hall, a shaft of light from the kitchen window highlighted Yvonne in the comparative darkness of the rest of the room and Jacques could see the cut on her cheek, which ran from the corner of her mouth almost to her eye. He walked hesitantly along the passageway and stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. Yvonne tried to signal to him with her eyes. As he watched her, the sight of the blood from the cut on her face and the terrified look in her eyes made his heart beat faster. He looked in the direction he thought she was indicating and as his eyes became accustomed to the dim light in the recesses of the kitchen, Henri stepped forward out of the shadows.

   “Welcome, Jacques. It is good to see you,” he said, looking at his watch. “You made good time. Obviously Yvonne is even more important to you than we thought. That will make things much easier for all of us.” He moved towards Jacques and, at the same time, Albert came into the kitchen from the hall, pushing Jacques aside as he walked past him and took up position behind Yvonne. Jacques was struck by the immense bulk of the man but quickly turned his attention back to Henri who was speaking again.

   “Yvonne and I got to know each other very well last night. Intimately, you might say.” He laughed out loud but Jacques controlled himself, his fear overcoming his temper. Then, in a moment, Henri’s expression turned mean and threatening. “Sit down!” he said sharply.

   Jacques was too scared to do anything but obey and he sat down on a chair set at right angles to Yvonne’s. “If you touch her again, I’ll kill you,” he said angrily trying to hide his fear.

   Henri’s face broke into a smile again as he approached Jacques. “Oh… no… you… won’t,” he said, slapping Jacques hard across the face between each word, first with the palm of his hand and then with the back of it.

   Jacques reeled under the blows and his anger welled up inside him as his hands gripped the sides of the chair tightly. He threw a glance at Yvonne and saw that Albert was now holding a knife in his left hand. When Albert saw Jacques look at him, he placed the knife against Yvonne’s throat and shook his head slowly, warning Jacques not to try anything. Struggling to control his temper, Jacques sat still and waited to see what would happen next.

   Henri turned away towards the grimy window above the sink before speaking in a low tone, “Now that I have your attention, Jacques, there are some things I wish to know.” He continued to face the window. “Your two visitors yesterday. What did they want?”

   Henri’s voice was quiet but menacing and as he finished speaking, he turned to face Jacques and looked him straight in the eye.

   “What visitors?” answered Jacques, swallowing and trying to play for time.

   Henri nodded to Albert who was still standing behind Yvonne with the knife in his hand. Albert sighed as he grabbed Yvonne’s hair and pulled her head back putting the knife to her throat again. Jacques steeled himself. He was sure they wouldn’t kill her, at least not until he had told them what they wanted to know.

   “I certainly will not tell you anything if you kill her,” he said in as even a tone as he could manage.

   Henri put his finger to his mouth and gently tapped his lips as he walked to and fro in front of Jacques. “OK, Jacques, I believe you. So we will try something a little different.” He turned and looked at Albert. “Undo the lady’s blouse,” he instructed.

   Putting the knife between his teeth, Albert reached down with both hands and ripped Yvonne’s blouse apart roughly, causing a couple of buttons to fall to the floor. Yvonne’s exposed breasts rose and fell and her breathing became heavy as Albert took Yvonne’s left breast in his hand and held the knife next to it. Henri smiled and looked at Jacques.

   “Now, Jacques,” he said, “Let me ask you again. What did your visitors want?”

   It was beginning to dawn on Jacques that these men would never let him and Yvonne go. Once they had found out all they wanted to know, they would kill them both. All he could do was play for time and hope for a moment when their guard was down. But he didn’t want to see Yvonne mutilated any more. He waited, and they waited, looking at him expectantly. Then Henri grew impatient and nodded to Albert indicating that he should proceed. Albert was about to comply when Jacques interrupted.

   “No! Wait!” he said, a desperate tone to his voice, “OK, you win. I will tell you what you want to know.” Albert relaxed and let go of Yvonne’s breast as Jacques continued. “They were interested in a book which they found on my boat.”

   “Ah, very good, Jacques. Now we are getting somewhere. I knew you loved your sister more than that.” Henri leaned towards Jacques and, with his face only a few inches away from him, he added, “Having had the pleasure of her myself last night, I can understand why.” He stood back and laughed out loud again. Jacques could hardly control himself; he was shaking with rage. That seemed to please Henri and he continued to goad Jacques, taunting him with every word, “If you tell me everything, maybe I will let you watch next time.”

   That was it! Jacques could take no more. His temper finally got the upper hand and he snapped. He shot out of the chair and grabbed Henri by the throat. The two of them fell backwards against the sink and the pile of filthy crockery clattered as it readjusted itself.

   Astonished by Jacques’ action, Henri looked at his bewildered accomplice. “Albert!” he croaked as Jacques’ grip tightened, “Kill her! Do it!…
Now
!” he wheezed as Jacques’ hands tightened round his throat.

   Without releasing his grip, Jacques looked towards Yvonne as Albert slowly lifted the knife to Yvonne’s throat and started to draw it firmly across her windpipe.

   “NO! WAIT!” he shouted in desperation as he let go his grip and moved towards Yvonne.  But it was too late and Albert’s hand finished the job it had begun.  Blood poured from the gaping wound on Yvonne’s neck and a gurgling sound confirmed that Albert had cut through her windpipe. A gunshot rang out and one of the glass panes in the back door shattered as Jacques instinctively dropped to the floor.

   Responding quickly, Henri, now free of Jacques, took out his gun and fired in the direction of the back door. The bullet from his gun missed its mark and lodged in the door frame. He scurried quickly out of the kitchen and into the hall as, almost in slow motion, Albert fell to the floor with a thud, a small round hole in the back of his head showing where the bullet from Conrad’s gun had entered his brain.

   Jacques looked up and the awful, horrifying look on Yvonne’s face burned itself into his memory. “
NO-O-O
!” he screamed agonisingly as he saw Yvonne’s eyes staring at him in disbelief. He closed his eyes to shut out the scene before him. When he opened them again, Yvonne was staring at him vacantly and then her head fell onto her chest.

   “
Yvonne
!” cried out Jacques in despair as he turned his face to the floor, sobbing, his whole body shaking and heaving with the strength of the emotion running through him.

   Conrad shouldered the back door open and he and Carter came into the kitchen. Carter looked down at Albert and then at Conrad.

   “Did you get a look at the other guy?” he asked. Conrad shook his head as Carter continued. “Too bad. But Jacques will be able to identify him.”

   Jacques slowly managed to control himself and, with Carter’s help, got up from the floor. He went over to Yvonne and knelt beside her before taking her head in his hands and gently lifting it a little. Her lifeless eyes stared back at him and he let her head drop back onto her chest.

CHAPTER 13

Eloise was pacing up and down the aft deck of the Esprit when she saw Carter walking towards the Capitainerie with Conrad beside him. She looked intently but couldn’t see Jacques. Then, as Carter and Conrad drifted apart, a pace or two behind them, shuffling along the road with his head down, she saw him. She ran across the gangway onto the quay and raced towards the men as they slowly approached the boat.

   “
Jacques! Jacques!
” she called out as she ran.

   Jacques looked up as he heard her calling and she almost knocked him over in her haste to embrace him. She kissed him on the lips as he took her in his arms, more as a reflex action than anything else. He kissed her back but without any great enthusiasm and then gently pushed her away.

   Carter and Conrad looked on anxiously as it dawned on Eloise that all was not well, that something bad had happened.

   “What is it?” she asked looking first at Jacques and then at Carter. “Is it Yvonne?… What’s happened?… Please,
someone
, tell me.” She saw the tears in Jacques eyes and looked from him to Carter. “
Please!
”

   Eventually, Conrad spoke, his tone almost apologetic. “Yvonne is dead,” he said.

   Eloise’s mouth dropped open in horror and her hand went to cover it. “Oh no!” she said, “Oh Jacques, I am so sorry.”

   Jacques looked away into the distance and Eloise turned to Carter, her eyes pleading with him to tell her what had happened but he said nothing. The little group made its way slowly onto the Esprit and into the saloon.

   Jacques and Conrad sat down at the table while Eloise led Carter to the galley. She switched on the kettle and, hoping they were out of earshot of Jacques, she turned to Carter and whispered, “What happened? Please tell me.”

   Carter glanced at Jacques to check that he was not listening and then filled Eloise in on everything that had happened at the farmhouse. When he had finished, she was stunned. As if by remote control, she poured the boiling water into the cafetière. Carter watched her, concerned that he may have given her more detail than she could cope with but when she had finished pouring the water, she looked at him.

   “Have you any idea who they were?” she asked, a grim determination to be strong coming through in her voice.

   “We’re not sure,” said Carter, shaking his head, “You can see how Jacques is. All we’ve been able to get out of him is that they were asking him about us. And the French PI who was working with us has disappeared. Could be he’s dead too.”

   Eloise shook her head slowly as she put some mugs on the tray. “I can’t believe all this is happening,” she said. “And what makes it even worse is that according to you, my grandfather is involved.” She looked up at Carter before continuing. “What do the police think? Do they have any idea who the men were?”

   Carter coughed and looked over towards Jacques. “We haven’t spoken to the police, yet,” he said, lowering his voice.

   “
You haven’t
…” began Eloise in a loud voice but Carter put his finger to his lips to quieten her and she continued in a softer tone, “You haven’t told the police? Why not for goodness’ sake?”

   “Because it would take too long to explain it all to them. We’re getting close. If we go to the police now, everything will come to a grinding halt while they get up to speed and then these guys, whoever they are, will have time to cover their tracks and get away. The trail we’re following doesn’t end here in Port Grimaud, you know. We only know a small part of the story so far, there’s a lot more for us to find out yet.”

   “But there’s a dead body in a farmhouse up in the hills somewhere, in fact two dead bodies, maybe even three!”

   “I know, and…” Carter removed a small polythene bag containing a bullet from his pocket and held it up. “…this came from the gun used by one of the men who kidnapped Yvonne. It wouldn’t come as a total shock to me if it matched the one used to execute Rob’s killer.”