‘Virginie’s been my star model for the last three years.’ Sobesky, embarrassed, hesitated a little. ‘She’s also been my son’s girlfriend for the last six months. She lived with him. On Friday 29 February, we had a family dinner, with some friends. After the meal, my son and Virginie had quite a violent row, so Virginie left on her own, I don’t know why, Xavier didn’t want to tell me. The following morning, I went to spend the weekend with friends at Deauville. On Monday morning I had a fashion show with a big client. It was Virginie who should have been doing it. Come 11 o’clock, no one. It was the first time in three years she’d let me down. My wife stood in for her at a moment’s notice. She used to do that once … a long time ago. The client left, the deal fell through, what’s more I phoned my son at the hospital where he was on duty — he’s a medical student — and he told me he hadn’t seen Virginie since Friday evening. So, frankly, I was worried. On Monday I phoned all the friends we knew, no one had any news. So on Tuesday morning I decided to go to the police station.’
‘Did you know that Virginie Lamouroux was back in Paris? Since 5 March to be precise?’
‘I heard it from one of my friends who’s a manufacturer.’
‘She hasn’t contacted you again since her return?’
‘No.’
‘You don’t find that curious?’
‘Of course I do, but what do you want me to say?’
‘Did you know that Virginie Lamouroux went to New York from the first to the fifth of March, where she met your colleague Mr Baker?’
‘No. I knew nothing about it.’ Sobesky looked genuinely astonished.
‘Why? In your opinion?’
‘How d’you expect me to know?’
‘Has she known Mr Baker for a long time?’
‘It wasn’t apparent to me that she knew him.’
‘How long has Mr Baker been a colleague of yours?’
‘What’ve these questions got to do with my visit to the police station?’
Romero took up the relay: ‘Since she came back from New York, we’ve arrested Virginie Lamouroux. She was in possession of a certain quantity of heroin.’
‘Virginie?’ His voice broke on the high notes.
‘You didn’t know that she was trafficking in drugs?’
‘No, absolutely not. I really like Virginie. She works as a model only now and then, like a lot of others, to finance her studies. She wants to become a museum curator.’
Attali and Romero tried, for an instant, to imagine VL as a museum curator. It was difficult to take on board.
‘She’s certainly had her share of affairs, that’s normal for a girl nowadays. But to go from there to thinking that she’s selling drugs …’
‘That’s why we’re trying to clarify her relationship with Mr Baker.’
‘Well, I’ve been working with Baker for a year and a half. We met at the ready-to-wear Salon. He suggested a licenced contract for the States. Obviously, I accepted. And it’s working well. I’ve never seen Baker and Virginie together.’
Without moving from his desk, Daquin asked: ‘Do you work with Anna Beric?’
Sobesky turned to him, frowning.
‘Of course. What are you implying, asking that?’
‘Mme Beric disappeared at the same time as Virginie Lamouroux, but she still hasn’t reappeared.’
‘What connection d’you think there is between these two women?’
‘I don’t know. It’s you I’m asking. Is there a professional connection?’
‘No. They each carry on in their own very different sectors. In my opinion, they don’t even know each other. Anna’s a very old friend. She started in the rag trade at the same time as me, as a dressmaker supervising alterations, nearly twenty years ago. Then, still with my setup, she did everything: she was a mannequin, a saleswoman, representative, secretary. I taught her everything. And she left to start her own business about twelve years after that. Since then I’ve gone on working with her. And don’t tell me that she’s into drugs too, because I’d laugh in your face.’
‘How did she come to begin with you?’
‘It was Superintendent Meillant who brought her to me. He was an inspector at the time. She was in a mess, and she needed help. And she came out of it remarkably well.’
‘You know Superintendent Meillant?’
‘Don’t tell me he’s disappeared too?’ Smile.
‘No. Not as far as I know.’ Daquin returned his smile. ‘It’s simply curiosity on my part.’
Sobesky looked serious for a moment. Then: ‘I’ve no reason not to give you an answer. Yes, I’ve known Meillant for a long time. Since the spring of 1943 to be precise. I was a child. A Jew. He wasn’t much older than me. He saved my life. We’ve stayed great friends. Now I want you to explain to me what I’m really doing here.’
Attali took over: ‘Quite simply, Monsieur Sobesky, we’re informing you officially that Virginie Lamouroux has not disappeared, that we’re therefore filing your statement, and we thank you for being so co-operative in answering our questions.’
Sobesky got up, shook hands with the two inspectors, glanced at Daquin who was once more immersed in his files and went out.
Daquin rose to make a coffee.
‘Where are we now, patron?’
‘I’m not too sure, to tell you the truth. One thing’s certain. VL knows Baker. So ask her how it is that Sobesky isn’t up to date on the fact.’
*
Before leaving, Daquin took a large brown envelope from a drawer in his desk. Inside were two big black and white photos, doubtless taken at a cocktail party. On one of them was a woman outlined in crayon and a post-it from Lavoreclass="underline" ‘This is Anna Beric’ She was still very beautiful. Tall, dark. A brief reminder of the red dress in the wardrobe. And two smaller photos of Meillant coming out of the police station.
Meillant and Anna Beric had not just crossed paths once. He’d also taken the trouble to find her a job. It was hardly likely that he’d completely lost sight of her. She was too beautiful, too fascinating. And they both worked in the Sentier.
12
9a.m. 10th Arrondissement Police Station
Attali was waiting for Virginie Lamouroux. She walked into the big waiting room, and went up to him, with a small nod and a smile.
‘So where’s this register I have to sign?’
Attali pushed it over to her. She signed.
‘Mademoiselle. May I say you look ravishing this morning.’
‘Thank you, monsieur l’inspecteur. Your compliment goes straight to my heart.’
‘I’ve just one question to ask you.’ He stood up, took her arm, in a move that was to be half gallant, and half to stop her running away. ‘How is it Sobesky hasn’t a clue you know Baker well enough to pay him a visit in New York?’
Virginie looked a bit perturbed by the question, but not enough to affect the good mood she had arrived in. She smiled at Attali.
‘Because Sobesky’s the sort of person who thinks he’s cunning, when in fact he’s a vain, naïve cunt. I’m pissed off with him, and his little schemes, and the way he puts his hand on my bottom. Pissed off with him and his son. Sod them. D’you understand, monsieur l’inspecteur?’
Attali was taken aback.
‘I understand very well.’
She left with her dancing step.
Romero, hiding by the police station exit, followed her from a distance. She went in through the entrance of a building in rue des Vinaigriers. Romero could have sworn she gave him a little farewell wave. He hurried after her through the entrance. Several staircases, three courtyards in a row, two other exits out into a passageway that led to the street … It took only a few minutes to ascertain that Virginie Lamouroux had abruptly and of her own free will left without saying goodbye.