Give me something to work with, said Daumier. A middle-aged man, short and stocky-that tells me nothing. He could have been hired by anyone.
It was someone who knew they were coming to Paris.
I know Hugh told the Vanes. They, in turn, could have mentioned it to others. Who else was at Chetwynd?
Richard thought back to the night of the reception and the night of Reggies indiscretion. Blast Reggie Vane and his weakness for booze. That was what had set this off. A few too many glasses of champagne, a wagging tongue. Still, he couldnt bring himself to dislike the man. Poor Reggie was a harmless soul; certainly hed never meant to hurt Beryl. Rather, it was clear he adored her like a daughter.
Richard said, There were numbers of people the Vanes might have spoken to. Philippe St. Pierre. Nina and Anthony. Perhaps others.
So we are talking about any number of people, Daumier said, sighing.
Not a very short list, Richard had to admit.
Is this such a wise idea, Richard? The question was posed quietly. Once before, if you recall, we were prevented from learning the truth.
How could he not remember? Hed been stunned to read that directive from Washington: Abort investigation. Claude had received similar orders from his superior at French Intelligence. And so the search for Delphi and the NATO security breach had come to an abrupt halt. Thered been no explanation, no reasons given, but Richard had formed his own suspicions. It was clear that Washington had been clued in to the truth and feared the repercussions of its airing.
A month later, when U.S. Ambassador Stephen Sutherland leaped off a Paris bridge, Richard thought his suspicions confirmed. Sutherland had been a political appointee; his unveiling as an enemy spy would have embarrassed the president himself.
The matter of the mole was never officially resolved.
Instead, Bernard Tavistock had been posthumously implicated as Delphi. Conveniently tried and found guilty, thought Richard. Why not pin the blame on Tavistock? A dead man cant deny the charges.
And now, twenty years later, the ghost of Delphi is back to haunt me.
With new determination, Richard rose from the chair. This time, Claude, he said, Im tracking him down. And no order from Washington is going to stop me.
Twenty years is a long time. Evidence has vanished. Politics have changed.
One thing hasnt changed-the guilty party. What if we were wrong? What if Sutherland wasnt the mole? Then Delphi may still be alive. And operational.
To which Daumier added, And very, very worried.
Beryl was awakened the next morning by Richard knocking on her door. She blinked in astonishment as he handed her a paper sack, fragrant with the aroma of freshly baked croissants.
Breakfast, he announced. You can eat it in the car. Jordan s already waiting for us downstairs.
Waiting? For what?
For you to get dressed. Youd better hurry. Our appointments for eight oclock.
Bewildered, she shoved back a handful of tangled hair. I dont recall making any appointments for this morning.
I made it for us. Were lucky to get one, considering the man doesnt see many people these days. His wife wont allow it.
Whose wife? she said in exasperation.
Chief Inspector Broussard. The detective in charge of your parents murder investigation. Richard paused. You do want to speak to him, dont you?
He knows I do, she thought, clutching together the edges of her silk robe. Hes got me at a disadvantage. Im scarcely awake and hes standing there like Mr. Sunshine himself. And since when had Jordan turned into an early riser? Her brother almost never rolled out of bed before eight.
You dont have to come, he said, turning to leave. Jordan and I can-
Give me ten minutes! she snapped and closed the door on him.
She made it downstairs in nine minutes flat.
Richard drove with the self-assurance of a man long familiar with the streets of Paris. They crossed the Seine and headed south along crowded boulevards. The traffic was as insane as London s, thought Beryl, gazing out at the crush of buses and taxis. Thank heavens hes behind the wheel.
She finished her croissant and brushed the crumbs off the file folder lying in her lap. Contained in that folder was the twenty-year-old police report, signed by Inspector Broussard. She wondered how much the man would remember about the case. After all this time, surely the details had blended together with all the other homicide investigations of his career. But there was always the chance that some small unreported detail had stayed with him.
Have you met Broussard? she asked Richard.
We met during the course of the investigation. When I was interviewed by the police.
They questioned you? Why?
He spoke to all your parents acquaintances.
I never saw your name in the police file.
A number of names didnt make it to that file.
Such as?
Philippe St. Pierre. Ambassador Sutherland.
Ninas husband?
Richard nodded. Those were politically sensitive names. St. Pierre was in the Finance Ministry, and he was a close friend of the prime ministers. Sutherland was the American ambassador. Neither were suspects, so their names were kept out of the official report.