Rough Cut (27 page)

   Henri muttered under his breath as he recovered his composure and made his way to the saloon where Jacques was trying to get to his feet, a task made all the more difficult by the lurching motion of the boat.

   “What’s going on?” shouted Henri above the sound of the Esprit’s engines which were still racing at full throttle.

   “It’s Philippe,” shouted back Gilles. “He was hanging onto the gangway. He’s in the sea now.”

   Henri stood close beside Gilles. They both stared intently through the front window as Gilles brought the boat round on a course aimed directly at Philippe who was floundering in the water. When Jacques saw that Gilles and Henri were engrossed in the act of running Philippe down, he slipped quietly down the steps into the stateroom. He went over to Eloise and quickly lifted her to her feet, motioning to her to be quiet. Silently they crept back up the steps and ran past Gilles and Henri, towards the stern of the boat.

   “Stop them!” shouted Gilles at Henri as he saw them go, but it was too late. Henri reached the aft deck just in time to see Jacques and Eloise jump off the transom into the sea.

   Almost at the same time, Henri heard the sirens and spotted the police launch from Sainte Maxime heading towards them.

   “Merde!” Henri hurried back to the saloon. “Gilles, look!” He pointed to the launch. “Forget Philippe and head out to sea. It is our only chance.”

   Gilles turned the wheel sharply again and the Esprit groaned under the strain as she turned away from Philippe and headed out to sea. The Esprit was fast for a boat of her size but she was no match for the police launch. It was soon alongside and a gendarme spoke to them through a megaphone.

   “Mettez en panne! Mettez en panne!”

   “Keep going,” pleaded Henri in desperation, but Gilles knew it was no use. He knew they couldn’t outrun the police launch and that before long a coastguard vessel would join in the chase and threaten them with its twin four-centimetre machine cannons. They might as well give up now. Reluctantly, he pulled back the throttles. The Esprit settled back into the water and Gilles turned off the engines.

   By this time, a second police launch was on the scene and was picking up Jacques and Eloise from the sea.

   Once in the police boat, Jacques remembered Philippe. “Monsieur Lacoste, he tried to help us,” he told the gendarme sitting next to him. Jacques coughed to clear his throat of sea water. “He’s in the water too. You must find him.”

   The gendarme spoke to the pilot of the launch and before long they had located Philippe. Jacques watched as they lifted him from the sea. His body seemed limp and lifeless.

   “What’s wrong with him?” he asked, “Is he OK?”

   One of the Gendarmes touched his fingers to Philippe’s neck. “Il est mort,” he said.

   Jacques looked stunned and Eloise put her arm round his shoulders.

_________________________

   When the Esprit, piloted by a policeman and followed by the two police boats, arrived back at the Capitainerie, quite a crowd had gathered, drawn by the sound of the police sirens.

   In amongst the crowd was Carter, who had hurried from Sainte Maxime when Conrad had called to tell him what was going on. He turned to Conrad and said, “We’ve got to find out what’s happened.” Then he saw the stretcher; the body it was bearing was completely covered with a blanket.

   “Who’s that?” he asked one of the gendarmes who were carrying the stretcher.

   “Je ne sais pas,” answered the gendarme, “Mais il est mort.”

   Carter stepped forward and before they could stop him, he pulled back the blanket. Philippe’s blank eyes stared up at him and he quickly covered the body again as the gendarme he had spoken to gave him a withering look. He fell back into the crowd and quickly found Conrad.

   “It’s Philippe,” he told him.

   “I thought it must be,” said Conrad. “You should have seen him; it was something else, the way he ran and jumped and grabbed onto the gangway. You wouldn’t have thought he was in his seventies.”

   Jacques and Eloise, wrapped in blankets and holding mugs of coffee, were still sitting in the police launch when one of the gendarmes touched Jacques on the arm and indicated for them to get out of the boat.

   Carter watched as Jacques and Eloise, shepherded by the gendarme, left the launch. He turned to Conrad.

   “Thank God, she’s safe!” he said, relieved. He already had enough bad news to tell Nicole.

   When Eloise saw Carter, she stopped and went up to him, leaving Jacques with the gendarme. As she spoke, she indicated Philippe’s body with her hand.

   “He never meant any harm, you know. It was just a money making opportunity that came along, one that he couldn’t resist.”

   Carter nodded as Eloise returned to Jacques and they watched Philippe’s body being loaded into an ambulance and driven off.  The gendarme guided them towards a police car but before they could get into the car, Carter approached the gendarme and spoke to him.

   “Where are you taking them?” he asked.

   “To the Gendarmerie in Sainte Maxime,” answered the gendarme.

   “I need to speak to them,” said Carter.

   “You will have to talk to the Inspecteur about that.”

   “At the Gendarmerie?”

   “Oui.”

   Jacques and Eloise were ushered into the back of the police car which then drove away and Carter turned back to look at the Esprit. He was sure he recognised one of the men now being escorted off the boat in handcuffs. The more he watched, the more certain he became that it was the one who had got away from them at the farmhouse.

   “I don’t know what’s been going on out there,” said Carter, “But I think I’d like to find out.”

_________________________

   By the time Carter and Conrad arrived at the Gendarmerie, Jacques and Eloise had got out of their wet clothes and were sitting in an interview room wearing dressing gowns provided by the police. The room was small and windowless but, protected from the direct rays of the sun, it was cool. The only furniture in the room was a plain oblong table and four equally plain chairs, two at each side of the table. The walls were colour washed in a drab yellow colour and, on the floor were light brown carpet squares, most of which showed signs of having had coffee spilt on them. Sitting across the table from Jacques and Eloise were a gendarme and Inspecteur Le Grande.

   “Has my mother been told that I’m here?” asked Jacques.

   “She’s on her way with some clothes for you,” replied Le Grande, “And she’s bringing something of her own for you too,” he said to Eloise. Then he turned back to Jacques and said, “Carter Jefferson, I think you know him, he is asking to speak to you but first, I need to interview you about what has been happening.”

   Jacques nodded as Le Grande continued. “I know that Monsieur Jefferson works for a diamond traders’ organisation in New York,” he said. “And that he has been on the trail of some people who have been making fake diamonds. I have spoken to him about this case before, when he informed me about the events at the farmhouse where your sister was killed.” Eloise relaxed visibly on hearing that Carter had spoken to the police. “I am not sure that he has told us all he knows about this case but I have checked him out with the authorities in New York and he appears to be who he says he is.” He looked searchingly at the two of them. “You should have come to us and told us what was going on right at the beginning. Maybe then we could have helped.” Le Grande eyed Jacques and Eloise closely. “I believe that you are both innocent in all of this but until I can establish beyond any doubt that you are, you must stay here. I will talk to you both again later.”

   Le Grande got up and left the room. When he had gone, Jacques looked at Eloise and put his arm around her. She leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder.

   A few minutes later, the door of the interview room burst open and Claudine came in. “Jacques!” she cried, “What has happened? The police rang to tell me you were here and to bring some clothes for you and for Eloise but they wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

   Jacques looked up at his mother and shook his head sadly as he spoke. “It was terrible. They were going to kill us. Monsieur Lacoste tried to help us… but he fell into the sea and was killed.”

   “I know. They told me Philippe was dead.” Claudine’s face blanked and she walked round behind Jacques and Eloise. She stared absently at a picture on the wall for several seconds and then closed her eyes for a few moments before turning to look at Jacques. “So who was it that did this? Was it the same people who killed Yvonne?”

   “Yes, one of them,” Jacques said. “But Gilles Renard too.
Gilles
is one of them.”

   “No!” said Claudine, a look of amazement on her face. “I have known Gilles for many years and although it is true that I do not like him much, I would never have suspected him of anything like this.”

   She reached over them and put the clothes she had brought onto the table. “I brought these for you,” she said as she put her arms round the two of them and hugged them both. “I am so glad you’re both safe.”

   The gendarme went to the door, opened it and called to one of his colleagues. A moment later a woman police officer arrived and took Eloise to another room to get dressed. Meanwhile Jacques dressed himself in the shirt and jeans his mother had brought for him. When he had finished, Claudine spoke to the gendarme.

   “Can I take him home now?” she asked.

   “I am sorry,” he answered, “but that will not be possible. The Inspecteur wishes to question him some more. You must leave now.”

   Claudine protested briefly and then left the room, but not before she had given Jacques a kiss and a hug.

CHAPTER 19

The day after Philippe’s gallant and desperate attempt to save the lives of his son and his granddaughter had resulted in his own death, Claudine telephoned Jacques. He had been released by the police the night before and had been keeping busy cleaning the Esprit. He did not welcome the interruption but Claudine left him in no doubt that she wanted to see him as soon as possible. When he asked why, all she would say was that she had something important to tell him. As he washed and pulled on a fresh tee-shirt, he tried to think what news she could possibly have that was so vital. Perhaps it was to do with Philippe’s death. Maybe his father had left him something in his will. Philippe was a wealthy man but he had a legitimate family; surely they would be the main beneficiaries. He really wasn’t very interested in whatever it was that she wanted to tell him so he dragged out his preparations and delayed the walk to his mother’s apartment for as long as he could.

   Eventually, as Jacques approached the apartment, unable to postpone his arrival any longer, he dragged his lethargic body up the stairs and opened the door.

   “Jacques! You are here at last,” Claudine said as she walked past him and closed the door. He smiled a weak smile as she turned to face him, her back to the door. “There is something I have to tell you. Something I have kept to myself for a very long time.”

   A serious look darkened Claudine’s face and she took Jacques’ hands in hers as she looked into his eyes.

   “Jacques,” she said, “what I have to tell you is this. Eloise is not related to you. She is not your niece, and you are not her uncle.”

   Jacques looked at his mother uncomprehendingly.

   “What are you talking about?” he said, “You know that isn’t true.”

   “What I know, Jacques, is that Philippe Lacoste was not your father.”

   Jacques looked at her unbelievingly. “But when I asked you, you said he was,” he challenged, a note of anger creeping into his voice.

   “I know.” A frown appeared on Claudine’s face and she let go of Jacques’ hands. “I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry. I thought it best that you should believe, as he did, that Philippe was your father. But I didn’t know about Eloise then. When I found out about Philippe being Eloise’s grandfather, that changed everything. I wanted to tell you straight away but it was complicated. Now that Philippe is… well, now I can tell you the truth, at last.”

   “And what exactly is the truth, Maman?” Jacques was both disappointed that his mother had lied to him and angry because of the consequences of her deceit. He stared back at her as he continued. “Do you actually know who my father is?”

   Claudine winced at Jacques’ gibe. She took a deep breath and pressed on. “The truth, Jacques, is that your father was a man called Emile du Pont, a fisherman. He was a man of no consequence, not like Philippe, but he was a good man and he loved me very much. We broke up over something quite trivial and I took up with Philippe. But, by then… by then, I was already pregnant with you.”

   “You said ‘was’. Is my father dead?”

   “He was killed in an accident at sea, before you were born.” Claudine took Jacques’ hands in hers again and looked into his eyes. “Please tell me you don’t hate me because of this, Jacques,” she pleaded. “Please tell me this.”

   “Of course I don’t hate you. And I’m sorry for what I said.”

   Slowly Jacques’ mood changed as hope again took hold of him and lifted his spirits.

   “Do you think Eloise will still want me when she knows the truth?”

   “If she loves you half as much as I know you love her, then I am sure she will.”

   Claudine was smiling now and she looked past Jacques as Eloise emerged from the bedroom.

   “How could you ever doubt it?”

   Jacques whipped round at the sound of Eloise’s voice behind him and saw her standing there, a slight smile lighting her face. He ran the few steps it took to reach her and took her in his arms, lifting her off her feet and wheeling her round. As he let her regain her feet, he smothered her with kisses and hugged her.

   Still clutching on to Eloise with one arm round her shoulders, Jacques turned to face his mother and put his other arm around her, drawing her close to him. “Thank you for telling me. I know how hard it was for you,” he said in a soft voice and kissed her on the cheek.