Enzo’s own hand went instinctively to the white stripe in his hair. ‘Yes.’
Demoulin looked at Kirsty. ‘And have you inherited?’
Enzo and Kirsty exchanged embarrassed glances, and Enzo said, ‘Kirsty is not my blood daughter.’
Demoulin cocked an eyebrow, then scratched his chin and closed the folder in front of him. ‘Okay, so the fact that baby Alexis failed his newborn hearing test would not, in itself, have signalled a problem. Anything up to ten per cent of babies fail that test. Vernix in the ear canal, fluid in the middle ear... It’s the follow-up confirmatory test which is the most important. And the fact that he failed that is the cause for concern.’ He leaned over to smile at Alexis in his carrycot, and elicited a happy chortle from the baby. ‘Nothing wrong with his sight anyway.’
Enzo could feel Kirsty’s tension as, during the next hour, Doctor Demoulin donned a white coat and conducted a series of tests in a clinical room next door to his office. Miniature earphones were inserted into Alexis’ ears and electrodes placed on his head to detect brain response to the various sounds played. Then a microscopic microphone was placed in the ear next to a tiny ear bud to measure auditory echo.
A test that the doctor described as a ‘brain audiometry evaluation’ was a straightforward visual determination of changes in Alexis’ behaviour in response to what sounds were fed into his earphones.
When he had completed his tests Doctor Demoulin stood thoughtfully, his lips pursed. ‘That he has a hearing problem, there is no doubt. He is not deaf, but is what I would describe as hearing-impaired. It’s not serious, but still a cause for concern.’ He looked at them both, then focused on Kirsty. ‘There’s no history of deafness in your family?’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘Not that I know of.’
The doctor nodded and stood up. ‘Well, I’m going to have to take a little bit of blood from Alexis to send to the lab for testing. Then, perhaps, we’ll be in a better position to make both diagnosis and prognosis.’
They stepped out into the street and the rumble of traffic, and Enzo sensed his daughter’s disappointment. He said gently, ‘It never was going to be settled here and now, Kirst. These things never are. But I think you came to the right man. I had a good feeling about him.’
Kirsty turned her face up towards him, concerned. ‘Did you? I wasn’t sure.’
Enzo nodded. ‘He had a good way with Alexis, and you don’t get to be the number one specialist in your field without knowing what you’re about.’
‘It’s just...’ She shrugged. ‘He gave so little away.’
‘I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say when he knows how things stand.’ He put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him gratefully.
He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He had silenced the ringtone and ignored it while they were in with the consultant. Now he took it out and saw that there were several messages, all from Nicole. He hit the dial icon and waited. It barely rang once.
‘Monsieur Macleod, where on earth have you been?’
‘It doesn’t matter where I’ve been, Nicole, I’m here now. What’s the problem?’
Kirsty watched her father’s face lose all its colour in the blink of an eye. He staggered, and for a moment she thought he was going to fall down. She clutched his arm. ‘Papa? Are you okay? What’s wrong?’
‘Where?’ she heard him say, and his voice sounded oddly hoarse. ‘I’m on my way.’
He hung up, and she saw tears trembling on the lower lids of his eyes, a strange, wild look in them as he stared off into some unseen distance. Now she was scared.
‘Papa! For God’s sake, what’s happened?’
He turned his head, as if in slow motion, and though his eyes were on her he didn’t appear to see her. The first tears spilled on to his cheeks. ‘Sophie’s been abducted,’ he said.
During the five and a half hours it took them to drive to Montpellier, Enzo barely spoke, and Kirsty knew better than to ask more than he had already told her. ‘The bastards have taken her,’ is all he’d say. And beyond briefing her that they were going to see Betrand in Lapeyronie Hospital, in Montpellier, he’d told her very little.
‘Is he okay?’
He’d nodded mutely. Then, ‘He’d be dead if they hadn’t found him when they did.’
Kirsty had fretted about Bertrand the whole way. She was concerned for her half-sister, yes, though the two had never been the best of friends. But Bertrand had saved her life. Stopped her from drowning in the catacombs below Paris, and there had been a special rapport between them ever since. He had once told her that saving her life made it his responsibility for the rest of his life. And now she felt responsible for him. But she also knew that if anything were to happen to Sophie it would destroy her father. There would be no way back for him, no future, no life.
The Département de Médecine d’Urgence of Lapeyronie Hospital was in the north-east of the city, in the Avenue du Doyen Gaston Giraud. Parking was in a sprawling, tree-shaded area to the east of the hospital complex, off the Route de Ganges.
Enzo had insisted on driving, but now he abandoned both the car and his daughter and ran, following the red Urgences signs. By the time he had been directed to Bertrand’s room, he could barely catch his breath. There were several uniformed officers of the Police Nationale standing in the corridor outside, talking. The most senior of them put a hand out to stop him. ‘Monsieur...?’
‘Macleod. It’s my daughter they’ve taken.’ He leaned over, supporting his weight with his hands on his knees, then stood up. ‘I’ve got to talk to Bertrand.’
‘All in good time, monsieur. He gave us a statement, and a description of the house they were taken to. It wasn’t that far from where the dog walker found him.’
‘And?’
‘Nothing there. They’ve left traces, of course. The police scientifique are going through the place right now. We might get lucky with fingerprints, or DNA, but from everything the boy’s told us, these were professionals. So I wouldn’t go holding your breath.’
Enzo said, ‘I’d have to catch it first to hold it. Where’s my daughter?’
‘I’m sorry, monsieur, we’ve no idea. According to the young man, they drove off with her in a van three nights ago.’
‘Jesus Christ, what’s Bertrand been doing all this time?’
‘He has a badly broken leg, monsieur, and was suffering from severe exposure. Another few hours and he’d have been dead. And we would have been none the wiser about any of this.’
Enzo heard footsteps hurrying up behind him and turned to see Kirsty arriving, pink-faced and breathing hard, with Alexis in her arms. ‘Is he going to be alright?’ she said.
Enzo turned back to the police officer. ‘Can we go in and see him?’
He nodded.
Bertrand turned his head as the door opened. He had been aware of voices on the other side of it and now, as he saw Enzo step into the room, he almost choked on his guilt. He tried to sit up.
‘Stay where you are, son,’ Enzo said. He pulled up a chair at the bedside and sat down. Bertrand saw Kirsty standing beside him, her baby in her arms, her face rigid with concern. She leaned over to take his hand and squeeze it.
Then he forced himself, no matter how painful it would be, to meet Enzo’s gaze. ‘I’m so sorry, Monsieur Macleod. I tried everything I could to protect her.’ And tears gathered to blur his clear, dark irises.