Hands of the Traitor (30 page)

Zoé found a large scale map in
the door pocket of the Peugeot and began to trace the route of
their escape with her finger. "If the 'Einmans are hiding in a
hotel we could phone the national police and hope they are smarter
than Lacoste and his
gendarmes
."

"I could make a citizen's arrest if we
can find them. Can you do such a thing in France?"

Zoé shook her head. "I do not know.
Perhaps Monsieur 'Einman still has a gun. Ah, I can see where we
are on the map. This track has what you call a dead
end."

He leaned across for a look, and could
feel the warmth of her body and detected a slight smell of sweat
from her fear. On the map he could see several houses marked in the
area, but nothing on this track. They should be safe for an hour or
so. "We'll get out of this somehow."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I do
not fancy twenty years in a tiny cell -- without you."

He could see tears in her eyes. Matt
reckoned they were tears of relief. Quickly he returned the kiss,
but right now he had more on his mind than romance. He snatched the
phone from its cradle. "Lacoste owes us a call. If this is working,
I'm going to speak to Ken." He switched it on and punched in the
numbers, including the UK country code.

Within seconds the phone rang at
Habgood Securities.

"Listen, Ken, this is Matt. We're in
trouble."

Ken gave a hollow laugh. "As usual.
What do you want me to do?"

"Can you get over to France with two
blank passports?"

Ken laughed again. "And end up on the
wrong side of the law? You've got to be joking."

"It's serious," said Matt urgently.
"We're wanted for murder. Zoé is convinced she's going to end up
behind bars, and..."

"Zoé behind a bar? She's attractive,
Matt. Good money in pub work."

Matt felt annoyed by the flippant
response. "Ken, you've got to help us."

"Tell me what's happened."

"My grandfather's been murdered.
He..."

"Hey, kiddo, was that your granddad at
the South Memorial? I didn't realize. Hell of a story. All that
blood and..."

"Ken, I
know
what happened. And I think I know who
did it."

"So why aren't you back here sorting
things out?"

"Because the murderer is
over
here
. Or he may be. I'm not sure. It's all to do with Domestic
Chemicals. I need more info on them."

"Louise Grantham dropped something
into the office on her way to work this morning. It's marked
confidential."

"Open it, Ken. Louise may have found
something that will help us dish the dirt on DCI."

"Is that DCI in America, or DCI in
Switzerland?"

"DCI is a New York
company."

"They've got a base in
Geneva."

"Who says so?"

"I've ... read it on their labels.
United States of America and Switzerland."

"Have you been looking at Louise's
notes?" inquired Matt suspiciously.

"Of course not." Ken's denial came
quickly. "It's common knowledge. I'll open the envelope and read it
all out to you."

"You're lying, Ken. You've been
through the lot. Tell me about DCI."

"You remember the man who called on
me? Miller."

"He had a car accident, Ken. Look,
I..."

"I've seen his picture in the DCI
literature Louise downloaded."

"I didn't want her to
register."

"She says she did it through an
American contact."

"That's something. So
who
is
Miller?"

"The chief executive officer. Bit of a
coincidence, I'd say."

"It's no coincidence. Just tell me
what else is in Louise's envelope."

"I'm not sure I should be interfering
with Domestic Chemicals' private business."

"Do it to get your own back on Miller.
He made a fool of you in the office."

"Not exactly a fool." Ken hesitated as
the accusation sunk in. "The way I see it he..."

"He made a complete fool of you, Ken.
You'll never live this one down at your club if you don't settle
the score." He winked at Zoé. "I don't want anyone getting a fix on
this phone. I'll call you back in fifteen minutes."

"Better make it thirty."

Matt replaced the phone in its
cradle.

"Louise?" asked Zoé, raising her
eyebrows. "Again?"

He shrugged and gave a strained
smile.

Zoé seemed to brighten up. "Now what?
I do not think Ken is going to be much help."

"That's because you've only met him
once. He's a pro. I sometimes needle him a bit, but he knows what
he's doing, all right."

"Perhaps." Zoé sounded far from
convinced. "Anyway, the 'Einmans, they could be going back to
England. We need the police to watch the ferry crossings and the
Channel Tunnel."

"They should have started doing that
last night. But if they were driving that white Citroen, they must
still be in the area. Ken says DCI has an office in Geneva. That
changes everything."

"It is important?"

"It's where the Heinmans will run for
safety. They can fly out to the States from
Switzerland."

"They would never be allowed to leave
Geneva." Zoé started to put her lipstick on.

"Never be allowed?" Matt shook his
head. "You don't have a clue about the clout of an international
firm like DCI."

"They are above the law?"

"They can buy enough time to escape
justice."

"So we go to Geneva after
them?"

"Not in Lacoste's car. We'd be picked
up in five minutes. That young man you met at the garage, doesn't
he live near here?"

"Philippe?" Zoé licked her fingers and
smoothed her eyebrows.

"His brother sells second-hand cars.
He offered you a road test."

"
Oui
." Zoé blushed.

"Then take him up on his
offer."

"Not now." Zoé shook her head in
bewilderment. "This is serious, Matt."

"Look in your purse and find the card
he gave you. Please."

Zoé rummaged through the contents. In
her hand she held a small printed card from the Garage de Saint
Somer. On the back was a hand-written address. She studied the
large scale map and gave a little cry of excitement. "It is less
than a kilometer."

"Let's walk there and borrow one of
his cars."

"Stay here," she instructed him. "I am
French so it is better if I go alone. I will not be
long."

"Hold it, Zoé!" He reached out to stop
her leaving but Zoé jumped from the Peugeot and ran along a muddy
path through the trees.

After thirty minutes, Matt picked up
the car phone and pressed the redial button. "How's the reading
going, Ken?"

"I've gone through Louise's papers.
Domestic Chemicals isn't that big a company. More mouth than
manpower, I'd say. The president is Jason B. Heinman, and Frank B.
Heinman is the ex-president who still works for DCI part time.
There's a photo of each of them."

Matt looked anxiously down the
track. Every
gendarme
in France would be hunting for Lacoste's car by now. "I've
got an idea."

"Nice clear line, Matt. Where are
you?"

"It's a high quality mobile phone,
Ken," Matt explained curtly. "In a police car. Do you have the
number for DCI in Geneva?"

"You're going to phone
them?"

"I'll pretend I'm in the New York
office, and tell DCI Geneva I need to know when the Heinmans are
expected in Switzerland."

"What makes you think they'll tell
you?"

"I'm going to ask
when
they're expected,
not if. I can work out if the Heinmans are expected by the answer.
I can do a reasonable job of sounding like an American."

"I remember when you tried that one on
me last Christmas. I can't see them falling for it any more than I
did. Is Zoé with you?"

He laughed at Ken's denial. He had
fallen for it one hundred percent. "Zoé's gone to see a
friend."

"What sort of a friend? You sound in a
panic, kiddo."

"Dead right I sound in a
panic," agreed Matt. "She went off ages ago to borrow a car, and
for all I know the
gendarmes
have picked her up. Why do you ask about Zoé?"

"Remember the Jackson case? We hired
an actress for that one. She pretended to be a pharmacist and found
out everything."

"Zoé isn't an actress."

"She could learn."

"What, here in the car?"

"It's your problem, kiddo, not mine.
I'm safe and cozy in my little old office. You're the one on the
run."

"I suppose ... Yes, why not? Zoé
pretended to be a reporter when she phoned Sister Ewing at the
South Memorial."

"Don't forget to tell her to act the
bully. People always give things away when they're under
pressure."

"Do me a favor. Tell the Trinity Green
cop shop about the Heinmans, and show them the photo of Frank
Heinman in the package Louise brought round."

"The ex-president? Are you going
crazy, Matt?"

"Don't argue. Get the police to take
the picture to the South Memorial and see if anyone recognizes him
as the padre. If they do, get the police to set up a border
alert."

"I've got it," said Ken, although he
didn't sound particularly enthusiastic.

"Someone's coming." A dark green
Renault 25 was bouncing its way down the track. The headlights
flashed briefly. "It's Zoé. She's wearing a bright yellow
headscarf. And there's someone with her."

Zoé pulled up alongside the
Peugeot.

"It's Sophie," Matt explained on the
phone. "Sophie Boissant is here with Zoé."

"You certainly attract the women,
Matt. Have you done with me?"

"For the moment. Don't forget to tell
the police what I've just told you. And do it straight away. As
soon as we've dumped Sophie, we're going down to
Geneva."

"You're not doing this on your
own?"

"It's a risk, but it may be our only
chance of catching up with the Heinmans."

"And what are you going to do when you
find them?"

"You tell me."

"See, I told you not to rush into
things without a plan."

"Just help me, will you?"

"Ram their car and make such a fuss
that the police get called. It's your chance to tell them
everything, while the Heinmans are sitting by the side of the road.
With any luck, the British police will have alerted Interpol by
then."

"I like it, Ken. The Heinmans might
have incriminating papers on them, or even some of their poison
gas."

"It's not my best plan ever, kiddo,
but it's something to get you started. Try not to get arrested
again. Once you're in custody, you're powerless. Maybe you'll think
of something better on the way down."

"How do I find DCI in
Geneva?"

"You're in luck. Louise has come up
with a map. Their offices are in the center of the city, on the
edge of some big lake." Ken gave the address and phone number.
"Watch yourself, kiddo."

Matt replaced the phone in its cradle
and examined the old green Renault. "Where on earth did you find
it, Zoé? It's a heap."

"Say thank you," said Zoé. "I smiled
nicely and Philippe's brother gave it to me for a test
drive."

"To Geneva?"

Zoé shrugged. "I did not say how far I
wanted to go. I found Sophie at her sister's house. She is coming
with us."

Matt started to protest.

"No, Matt, Sophie's life is in
danger. We must leave the Peugeot of Captain Lacoste here.
The
gendarmes
they are everywhere."

"Let's hope they don't recognize us,"
said Matt.

"I will do the driving. That is why
Sophie lent me this headscarf."

"It doesn't suit you."

Zoé ignored the observation. "Hurry up
and get in, Matt. You will have to lie on the back seat under the
covers, and Sophie will have to lie with you."

Matt shook his head. "All the way to
Switzerland -- in this? Look at the state it's in. It's even worse
than the Mini. I hope it's got breakdown cover."

"It is a good car," insisted Zoé. "Get
in."

"I want you to make a phone call
before we go." He pointed to the mobile in the Peugeot. "To DCI in
Geneva."

Everything depended on Zoé getting
this call right. He ran through the plan, making sure Zoé
understood exactly what she had to do. He leaned into Lacoste's car
and switched off the police radio. It wouldn't do to have urgent
voices interrupting the call to DCI.