Menard said, “Madame Helmut, we are looking for a woman who came into the bank two hours ago. We need to know what business she had here.” Nicholas showed her Browning’s photo.
She said, in a formal voice, “Assuming I’ve seen this person, you know I cannot share this information with you. We have the strictest privacy policies to protect our customers. Without the proper papers, I will not be able to speak to you.”
Nicholas took a step toward her, aggressive as a wolf. Helmut immediately recoiled, obviously alarmed.
Mike saw the look on his face and the way he readied himself, but when he spoke, his voice was very quiet. “This is a matter of the utmost urgency, madame. Look again.”
Despite being wary of him, Helmut stared him down. “We need the appropriate paperwork.”
“Hold on.” Menard whipped out his mobile and made a call to the local police. “This is Menard. I am at Bank Horim. We need armed men at the entrances. In case our suspect returns.”
He hung up and smiled pleasantly at Helmut. He handed her a card. “If you change your mind about cooperating, call. Otherwise, it is going to look like a siege in here until the warrants are executed. And you will not get any banking done because we are going to interview everyone who was in the building, all morning long.”
“See here, Monsieur Menard, there is no call to be this way. I am bound by our privacy laws—”
Nicholas shoved the photograph in front of her face. “What did she do while she was here? Tell us now or you’re going to be tied up for weeks with regulatory checks on each of your accounts. Your bank participates in the International Anti-Money Laundering and Terrorism Acts. We have the right to discovery on your clients, the money you move, everything. And we’ll spend all the time we need being very, very thorough.”
She looked like she wanted very much to shoot them but couldn’t. So she said, “She did no business with us. She simply asked for directions.”
Nicholas said, “Stop wasting our time.”
“It is true. She did no banking.”
Mike stepped in. “This is a matter of life and death. This woman is fugitive; she is extremely dangerous. We need to know what she was doing here.”
Helmut closed her eyes for moment. A small frown crossed her face, then her shoulders straightened, her decision made. “The lady in the photograph inquired about the purchase of a safe-deposit box. I informed her there was a waiting list of over two years for the security section.” She looked down her nose. “We don’t do ‘walk-ins,’ as you like to say. She was very upset. I sent her to Sages Fidelité, on Place de Chevaleux. They perform a similar service without the wait. Or the security, but this did not seem to matter. She was quite urgent about it.”
She gestured toward the door. “This is all I know. Please, I must return to my work.”
Nicholas was vibrating with anger. “After all that, you mean to say you’ve been stalling us over a matter of directions?”
Helmut crossed her arms over her chest. “I am protecting my bank and my clients. I would prefer for you to leave now.”
Menard said, “Not yet, Madame Helmut. My officers are on their way. You will understand we cannot take your word for it. We will need your video feeds for the day.”
Mike’s phone dinged with a new text message. She looked at it and breathed in hard. Nicholas looked over at her.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Menard, Ms. Helmut, please excuse us for a moment.”
Menard nodded at them and stayed to face off with Marie-Louise Helmut. Mike walked out onto the street, Nicholas behind her.
“What is so important that you’d pull me away from a suspect in the middle of an interrogation?”
She merely showed him the message from Ben.
Nicholas read it aloud. “Andrei Anatoly and two of his sons are dead. Call me when you can. Savich has news for you, too.”
Menard joined them.