“We’ll be quick,” I assured her, and she followed us inside.
I’d never seen Mo-bot look so frail and vulnerable. Her skin was paper white and her movements were shaky.
“Excuse the mess,” she said, gesturing at the various machines and drips surrounding her.
“Mo,” Justine responded, moving swiftly to her side. She took our friend’s hand, the one without the canula. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll be alright, kiddo,” Mo-bot said.
Her voice was thin and small. I could already feel her creeping fatigue.
“What happened?” I asked, leaning in.
“We went to follow up a lead,” Mo-bot said. “It turned out to be nothing, but some of Roman Verde’s men spotted us in the street and they shot us.”
I got the sense she wasn’t telling the whole truth and she didn’t mention Kendrick Stamp at all. I guessed there were things she didn’t trust Valerie with. Mo-bot’s attention drifted for a moment, and I couldn’t tell whether it was from exhaustion or getting lost in the memory of trauma.
“Is Sci okay?” she asked at last.
“You don’t need to worry about him,” I told her. “He’s in good hands. Just focus on yourself.”
She smiled. “Okay, Dad.”
“What was the lead?” Chevalier asked.
“Oh, it was a ridiculous hunch I had about some of Roman’s men using the hotel as a meeting place,” Mo-bot replied, and I knew for sure she was trying to keep something from the inspector.
“Maybe not so ridiculous,” Chevalier remarked. “What made you think they might be there?”
“I’m tired, Jack,” Mo-bot replied. “So tired.”
“We should leave,” I said.
The inspector hesitated and then nodded reluctantly.
“Feel better,” Justine told Mo-bot before steering Valerie toward the door.
“I will send a Photofit artist when you are well enough,” Valerie told Mo-bot.
She and Justine left the room.
“Mo, I want you to—” I began, but she cut me off, suddenly more alert.
“If you tell me to focus on myself,” she interrupted, “or to concentrate on getting better, I’ll kick your butt into the next room.”
There was fire in her eyes.
“My body will do what it needs to do to heal. I want you to get the men who did this to us,” Mo-bot said. “I guess we’re still not fully trusting the cops after the obvious corruption and security breaches?”
I nodded.
“That’s why I didn’t mention Kendrick Stamp. He’s at the Metropole. Room four-oh-eight. I think he’s the second assassin Roman talked about. In fact, I’m pretty certain of it. He told me he was being watched before we were attacked. His number and yours were the only ones on a SIM Philippe Duval had hidden in his safe. Stamp is married and got really cagey when we asked about his wife. I think Roman and his men have her.”
I took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“You did good work,” I said.
“Don’t praise me, Jack. That’s not what I need,” she replied, her eyes filling in a rare display of vulnerability. “Find the men who did this. Find them and make sure they answer for what they’ve done. Promise me.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
Chapter 71
I saw Chevalier and Justine watching us through the observation window, and their eyes stayed on me as I left Mo-bot’s room.
“What did she say?” the inspector asked, after I’d shut the door.
“She wanted me to pass on some messages to her team,” I replied. “And family.”
Chevalier frowned.
“Do you know why they went to the Metropole?” she asked.
I shook my head. I was going to leave it at that, but I was angry at what had happened to my friends and the way we’d been treated since arriving in the city. I stepped closer to Chevalier.
“We found evidence Philippe Duval was working with the men who shot Mo and Sci,” I said. “My government is looking at it right now.”
I caught Justine’s startled expression, and the side-eye from the uniformed cop posted guard.
“What... Philippe?” Chevalier exclaimed in what seemed like genuine disbelief. “What evidence have you?”
“We can’t share it with you just yet,” I told her. “If your Interior Minister was compromised—”
“Former Interior Minister,” she said.
“This was going on while he was in government,” I revealed.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally said, “So, you don’t think you can trust us.”
“No,” I replied. “Nor the French police. Two cops helped the Automobile Club suspect escape arrest. Justine has the footage.”
Chevalier looked at Justine who nodded.
“Can you send it to me?” she asked.
I nodded, and Justine said, “Yes. I’ll message you a download link.”
“If what you say is true, then these people have infiltrated institutions we should be able to trust,” the inspector remarked.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “If an Interior Minister can be compromised and officers induced to break the law, then you’ll understand why we’re wary of the authorities.”
“My people are—” she began, but I interrupted her.
“Honest? Trustworthy? Can you really vouch for everyone who works for you?” I asked. “We’ll share the evidence when we know it’s safe. In the meantime, you need to reassess the people you trust.”
Valerie Chevalier looked punch drunk but there was nothing more to say. Justine and I left her dealing with the implications of our revelations while we walked to the elevator.
Minutes later, we were outside the hospital amid the sights, sounds and smells of a city heading for new heights of revelry.
“What now?” Justine asked, when we were well clear of the building.
“We go to the Hotel Metropole. Mo-bot thinks Kendrick Stamp is the second assassin. Former Marine scout sniper and FBI special agent,” I said. “So, he has the skills.”
“What if Roman’s people are still there?” Justine asked.
“I hope we run into them,” I replied grimly.
Twenty minutes later, after navigating the crowded streets, we stepped into the grand lobby of the Metropole, which showed no signs of any shooting. The large atrium was packed with new arrivals waiting to check in. Others had spilled out of the bar and were holding drinks, talking and laughing animatedly.
We went directly to the elevators and took one to the fourth floor. We found room 408 and I knocked on the door. I could hear the TV playing inside, but there was no other sound. After a couple beats, I knocked again.
Justine wandered idly along the corridor until something stopped her in her tracks.
“Jack, come and look at this.” She beckoned me over, and as I approached, I realized she was pointing at a bullet hole in the plush wallpaper on the far side of the stairwell door. “Do you think the cops even know about it?”
I shook my head. There would be a slug in that wall, but knowing what I knew about the Dark Fates and Propaganda Tre, I was almost certain it wouldn’t lead to a traceable gun. Still, the police should at least analyze all the available evidence and try to piece together a trail.
“Tell Chevalier about it when you send the footage you took in La Turbie,” I said, and Justine nodded.
I returned to room 408 and knocked for a third time. After another couple beats, I glanced along the corridor and, seeing it was clear, barged the door open with my shoulder.
There was a loud crack as it split from the frame, and another bang as it swung wide and slammed against the stopper.
Justine and I hurried into the room to find the TV on, but the room empty. The closets were devoid of clothes and there was no sign of habitation anywhere.