‘And the two match?’
‘Of course.’ Leplan looked annoyed by the question. ‘Why else would I be bothering you, Herr Bech?’
Bech sat back in his chair, and breathed out noisily. ‘You realise it would never stand up in court.’
‘Yes, I know that. And even if it ever came to a charge, I know that the Russian would simply claim diplomatic immunity and skip home. But at least we now know he did it.’
Chapter 50
Liz had left a message on his phone, but when Edward phoned her back on her mobile he only got her voicemail. But there had been nothing worrying about her message; she’d said that the Cahors commune had been raided and René had been arrested. Antoine had not been there, but Liz had sounded confident that he would soon be picked up. Apparently, after hours of searching, a cache of liquid explosive, half a dozen handguns and two Uzis had been found. Evidence enough to put René away for a long time.
What a relief. Now, Edward hoped, Cathy would sense what a close call she’d had, cut all ties with the communards and settle down to creating a secure life for herself and young Teddy. Maybe a suitable chap would turn up one day so she wouldn’t have to be a single mother for ever – or maybe he wouldn’t; the important thing, he felt, was to get Cathy and Teddy settled.
When his daughter opened the door Edward was relieved to find her smiling, and he was pleased when she gave him a big hug. She led him into the kitchen, from where he could see Teddy playing in the garden. When Cathy started to open the back door to call the boy, he stopped her. ‘Hold on a moment. I’ve heard from Susan’s daughter – you know, Liz, the woman you met here.’ He was glad when she didn’t frown. ‘It seems René and his friends have been raided by the police down in Cahors. They found weapons and explosives at the commune.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re not. But it means they won’t be coming here and bothering you for money. From what Liz said, it sounds as if they’ll be in jail for a long time.’
Cathy nodded. ‘They’re not all bad, you know,’ she said. ‘Some of them are my friends.’
But Edward could see she was relieved. It must have been the most tremendous strain for her. He said cheerfully, ‘Why don’t I go out and see my grandson?’
When the doorbell rang Edward was still in the back garden with Teddy. Reassured that she was no longer under threat, Cathy went and opened the front door, expecting to find the postman or a delivery from Amazon. Instead a familiar bulky figure was standing on the doorstep. As the door opened he lunged at her.
It was Antoine.
‘Help—’ she started to shout, but he clamped a hand over her mouth.
As Cathy found herself pushed back from the door, Antoine hissed, ‘Tais-toi!’ He pressed his other hand on to the back of her neck, and pinched the tendons there until she nodded obediently. Anything to stop the pain.
He half-propelled, half-dragged her into the small sitting room, kicking the door closed behind him as they entered. ‘I will take my hand off your mouth if you promise not to scream. If you do, I will hurt you. Compris?’
Cathy nodded, and he took his hand from her mouth, though the other one stayed gripping the back of her neck, keeping her close to him. His breath was a nauseating mix of cigarette smoke and hamburger. She turned her face to the side and breathed in, trying to calm her nerves.
‘Now, first things first. Where is your boy?’
‘He’s not here,’ she said, keeping her eyes averted. Just then a boyish yelp came from the garden. Antoine tightened his hand on the nape of her neck. ‘Do not lie to me again. So, he is in the garden?’
Cathy nodded weakly.
‘Good, then we both know what can happen if you do not cooperate. I am here for the money. Do you have it?’
Cathy was too terrified to say no, but saying yes would be equally dangerous – she had six pounds in her purse and that was all. ‘I have to give you a cheque.’
Surprisingly, Antoine did not seem disconcerted by this. ‘I did not expect you to have ten thousand in cash. So let’s get your cheque book.’
‘It’s in my bedroom,’ she lied, thinking that might give her an opportunity to shout to her father.
‘No, it’s not,’ Antoine said firmly. ‘René told me it’s in the desk over there.’ He pointed to a corner of the room where her mother’s small bureau stood. Cathy kept the bills there, and her cheque book. René must have sniffed around during his last visit while she was making tea.
She tried again. ‘It’s not there now. I was paying bills last night.’
Antoine moved his hand upwards and suddenly gripped the loose ends of her hair. He pulled them hard and she flinched with sudden pain as her head jerked back. ‘Do you think I am a fool?’ he said angrily, then released his grip. She lowered her chin in relief, and the pain stopped.
He turned her around until she was facing him and suddenly slapped her hard across the cheek. Cathy struggled not to cry out in pain. ‘If you don’t write the cheque in the next thirty seconds,’ Antoine threatened, ‘I will do it again. And then I will fetch your boy.’
Outside Edward was doing his best to play football with Teddy. He’d bought him a junior-sized goal a month before, one with a string net so you didn’t have to chase the ball each time a goal was scored. But Teddy couldn’t decide if he wanted to be goalkeeper or striker, and finally they compromised on passing the ball back and forth. Each successful pass elicited a happy laugh from the little boy, and Edward was pleased to see him so carefree – recently Teddy had often seemed subdued, especially when relations between Edward and Cathy had been at their most tense.
It was when Teddy had kicked the ball towards the back door, and Edward had gone to retrieve it, that he heard the short sharp noise from inside. He paused, listening hard, but nothing followed. He stood there until Teddy cried impatiently, ‘Get the ball, Grandpa. Get the ball.’
‘Just a minute,’ he said, still listening hard. Nothing. In two quick bounds he climbed the steps to the kitchen door and opened it. ‘Cathy,’ he called.
There was no reply.
Could she have gone out? It didn’t seem likely – he’d only been in the garden for a few minutes with the boy. Perhaps she was talking on the phone. But then what had that noise been?
He walked through the kitchen, stopping for a second to look at the rack on the wall with its neat line of knives. Should he grab a weapon? It seemed needlessly melodramatic – Cathy was probably in the loo.
Nonetheless, he walked quietly down the corridor towards the front of the house. He didn’t call out again.
The door to the sitting room was closed. He slowly opened it. ‘Cathy?’ he said.
Then he saw her, and the stranger in the room. The man was standing behind Cathy, with one arm drawn across her throat. He was shorter than Edward, a little under six foot tall, but heavily muscled, wearing a T-shirt that showed off biceps that could only have been created by hard work in a gym.
Cathy looked at Edward with fear in her eyes.
‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded. ‘And what are you doing to my daughter?’
Cathy tried to speak, but the man’s arm tightened on her throat and her attempt spluttered into silence.
Then the man spoke. ‘My name is not your concern. I have business with your daughter.’ His accent was French, but his English was excellent. ‘If you don’t interfere, she won’t get hurt. Neither will you or the boy.’