Jacquot and the Waterman (71 page)

'I don't want to waste any time here,' continued Jacquot, pulling a tape from his pocket, sliding it into the cassette machine and pressing the
record
button. 'So let me begin by telling you what we know. Since you were taken into custody, Monsieur Carnot, a number of calls have been received on your mobile phone. All of them from a certain Alexandre Raissac. So I'm sure you'll agree that it's pointless your trying to persuade me that you don't know him.'

Maître
Denis was about to say something.

'Wrong number?' Jacquot asked. 'I don't think so. According to phone records,
Maître
Denis, your client and Monsieur Raissac have spoken together on numerous occasions in the last three months.'

Which wasn't exactly accurate. Muzon was still chasing down the phone company for information, but Jacquot was certain he wouldn't be too far off the mark.

Carnot swallowed.

'So. Let's begin again, shall we? Alexandre Raissac.'

'Okay. I know him. I do the odd job for the guy.'

'What lands of jobs?'

'Personal security. That kind of thing.'

'So why didn't you say so?'

'It's just. . . well, in the protection business you need to be discreet.'

'So you protect him?' Jacquot leant back in his chair, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.

'That's right.'

'From what, may I ask?'

'He's rich. Needs to look after himself. Needs someone like me around. Just in case.'

'Just in case?'

'You know how it is with these guys. Marseilles's no playground.'

'So how long ago was this? How long have you been working for Monsieur Raissac?'

'Must be . . . six, eight months.'

'Not longer?'

Carnot shook his head.

'And it's just protection?'

'That's right.'

'So what about girls? Does he get you to provide those kinds of services? Or is it boys?' Jacquot remembered his visit to Cassis and the way Raissac had eyed him up over their beers. He'd recognised the look for what it was.

Carnot sighed. 'Sometimes Monsieur Raissac has business colleagues need setting up, entertaining, you know? With girls.'

'Girls like Vicki?'

Carnot nodded. 'Yes. She was one.'

'And Grez?'

'No. That was just. . . you know, personal, a fling. Couple of times was all. I can't hardly remember. It was just. . . nothing. Nothing to do with business.'

'And Ballarde? Was she one of your girls?'

Carnot frowned. The name clearly meant nothing to him. He shook his head.

'And Raissac? Did Raissac know these girls? Maybe use them himself?'

'Sure.'

Jacquot took this in. 'Monel? Did Raissac know Monel?'

'I suppose

'Yes or no?'

'Yeah, I guess.'

'How?'

'I took her round to his place a couple of times.'

'Here, or in Cassis?'

'Usually here.'

' "Usually"? So sometimes to Cassis as well?'

'That's right. A few times.'

'So he knew her? Knew her name?'

'Yeah. Course.'

Which was not what Raissac had said. Inconsistencies - Jacquot loved them. For a moment he wondered whether Raissac was the Waterman? It was an intriguing possibility, but Jacquot wasn't convinced. Not yet.

And then there was his old friend Doisneau. What about him? Did Raissac kill Doisneau? Or have Carnot kill him? To keep him quiet. Maybe Raissac found out that Doisneau was talking to the cops. Or maybe Doisneau tried a little blackmail on Raissac. A foolish thing to try, by all accounts.

'And Grez? Did he know Grez?'

Carnot shook his head. 'No, he didn't. Like I told you . . .'

'You're sure about that?'

'Yeah, I'm sure. She was just a girlfriend of mine. A couple of times and that was it. I told you.'

'And what about Cours Lieutaud? Vicki Monel's apartment. Did Raissac ever visit there?'

'No.'

Jacquot nodded. 'But you knew he owned the apartment?'

Carnot looked surprised. 'Yes,' he replied.

'He told you that?'

Carnot looked uncomfortable. How much to say? How to say it? After a pause, not seeing how he was giving anything away, Carnot nodded. 'Yeah. He told me. Said if I knew anyone who wanted to earn a bit of money

'They could stay in the apartment in exchange for . . . ?'

'That they could maybe do some work for him.'

'And what work was that, Monsieur?'

'Like I said, entertaining. Clients and things. Business people.'

'And he cut you in?'

'No. That was between me and the girl. He didn't charge no rent, just expected us to do what he asked. Arrange things. Be available.'

'So it wasn't just personal security. He set you up with the apartment. And you supplied the talent. Girls like Vicki. And Alina, Nathalie, Rose.'

The names that Madame Piganiol had given him. Somehow Jacquot had remembered them.

Carnot's eyes widened. He couldn't help himself.

Jacquot slipped his hands behind his head; he was starting to enjoy himself. He'd found the end of a piece of string and was pulling it in for all he was worth, confirming everything he'd suspected - and a few things he hadn't.

'Well?'

Across the table Carnot nodded. 'That's right.'

'So it's a little more than six months you've known Monsieur Raissac? Would that be correct?'

'I suppose 'So lets talk about these "business colleagues". The ones Monsieur Raissac sent to the apartment. You know any of them?'

Carnot shook his head. 'No. I didn't.'

'You're certain?'

'I told you - no.'

'And how many of these "colleagues" do you suppose you filmed?'

Carnot sighed. The cop seemed to know everything. 'Five. Maybe six,' he replied, picking at his fingernails.

'So what happened to the films?' continued Jacquot.

'Just gave 'em to Raissac.'

'That's all?'

'That's it. That's the truth.'

'You know what he did with those films, our Monsieur Raissac?'

Carnot held out his hands. 'Look, in my line of work you don't ask too many questions.'

'Well, I'll tell you. He used those films, those indiscretions you recorded, to put pressure on people. Not "colleagues", as I'm sure you already know, but people he wanted to control. Important people, people in positions of authority. To get them to do whatever it was that he wanted doing. A little bit of leverage.'

Carnot gave a shrug.

'Which, Monsieur Carnot, is very much against the law. Is that not so?'

'If you say so,' replied Carnot, trying to be flippant, trying to distance himself.

'And you helped him. Helped him break the law. The word we're looking at here is "accomplice". In case you didn't know . . .'

'It was just a job. I didn't know why he wanted the films. I didn't ask. Not my business.'

Jacquot nodded. 'You ever hear the name Basquet? Paul Basquet?'

Carnot gave the name some thought, shook his head. Another name, another line. This was getting complicated. 'No. Never heard of him.' Then he turned to
Maître
Denis with a threatening look - get me out of this, now. Which Jacquot had been expecting. The lawyer took the cue. 'Chief Inspector, I really must—'

Jacquot pulled in his legs and leant forward. 'At this moment,
Maître
Denis, your client is helping us with our inquiries. Depending on the level of that assistance, then certain arrangements might be put in place to help Monsieur Carnot here out of a very nasty situation. Conspiracy, aiding and abetting, blackmail

'Look, this is a load of bull,' said Carnot, finally losing patience. 'So I lay on some girls for him. So what? And maybe I take a few films. So what? That's it. It's nothing. This is just a crock.'

'You know someone called Paul Doisneau?' 'No. I don't,' replied Carnot, far too quickly. And Jacquot knew he was lying. Just like he'd lied when Jacquot had asked about Raissac. The same shift in the eyes.

'You mind telling me what you were doing Friday night?'

'Out clubbing,' replied Carnot. 'Maras, Dugong, Chai. Gotta dozen people saw me.' 'So why did you run?'

'You mean, your guys coming to my place? They could have been anyone, man. I didn't know.'