“Menard, here. Is this Agent Caine?”
“Yes, and Nicholas Drummond from New Scotland Yard.”
“Drummond, I’ve heard of you. You used to be Foreign Office, oui? You may know a friend of mine, Jacques Bouton.”
Nicholas laughed. “I know him well. What’s the old bugger up to these days?”
“Retired, but you never can leave, can you? Even though he’s up in his chalet in Chamonix, he still manages to butt in to our cases. He spoke for you, said you could be trusted.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Bona fides established, he asked, “Do you know where our target is now?”
“We’re searching. The Geneva police have been cooperative, but there is nothing yet. When will you arrive?”
“Two hours.”
“I will meet you at the airport. Good-bye.”
Nicholas said, “He should be a help, which is good news. If he and Bouton are friends, he’ll know how to bend the rules. You know, I think he likes me better than you.”
She went silent for a moment, then said, “Who’s this Bouton character?”
“He’s a friend, one of my old contacts. We worked together on a nasty case about five years ago, in Algiers. And if Menard knows him, we’re in luck.” He paused a moment. “To catch the Fox, we might have to jump over the line.”
Mike kicked off her boots and drew her feet up on the leather seat. “We aren’t flying to Europe to bend the rules, Nicholas.”
“The only rules that matter right now are the Fox’s.”
Mike was already shaking her head. “Come on, you know the FBI doesn’t play fast and loose with the law.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, of course you know. But you also think the Fox was involved in Elaine York’s murder, and you want revenge. I can see it on your face, Nicholas. But our job is to solve this case without breaking laws and compromising ourselves.”
His voice went cold. “If you think I’m going to allow my grief for Elaine to influence me in this investigation, you’re dead wrong. Apparently I know a lot more about you than you know about me.”
“You absolutely don’t know anything about me.”
He shifted in his chair, eyebrow raised. “You told me about your dad, the chief of police in Omaha, quite the achievement for the son of a farmer. I also know he did two tours in Vietnam and received a Purple Heart and a Silver Star. Your parents are still married—happily, by the looks of it. You have a younger brother, Timothy. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to check him out. He called you in the middle of the night last night. I guess there’s a problem with your brother, since you said he was your Afghanistan, sort of—”
She cut him off. “Stop right now. This is all Google stuff any moron could find out about my family. It has nothing to do with how I choose to do my job. I don’t wave my wand and decide what’s appropriate for the given situation. My rules, as you call them, separate me from the people I hunt. It should be the same for you.”
His face remained expressionless, and his voice was light, but she wasn’t fooled, not for an instant. “Believe it or not, the Elaine I knew was a lot like you. And you know what? I could always count on her to have my back, no matter what I asked. I do hope I can count on you.”
She fingered the Glock on her hip and said, her voice as light as his, “You’re a lamebrain, you know that? Don’t worry about me. I’ve never backed down from a fight in my life. But we won’t break laws, Nicholas. We won’t become criminals to catch criminals.”
54
Nicholas didn’t reply. He picked up the phone and called Savich again.
“Sorry, I don’t have anything for you yet.”
“I have one more thing to add into the search. Our suspect walked into a Deutsche Bank in Geneva half an hour ago.”