“Reduce speed and put us on autopilot.”
Keller did as instructed and followed Gabriel down to the main salon. There they found Lacroix in obvious distress, his chest heaving as he struggled for air through the duct tape helmet. Gabriel rolled him onto his stomach and fed the nylon line through the bindings at his feet and ankles. After securing the line with a tight knot, he dragged Lacroix onto the afterdeck as though he were a freshly harpooned whale. Then, with Keller’s help, he lowered him onto the swim step and rolled him overboard. Lacroix struck the black water with a heavy thud and began to thrash wildly in an attempt to keep his head above the surface. Gabriel watched him for a moment and then scanned the horizon in all directions. Not a single light was visible. It seemed they were the last three men on earth.
“How will you know when he’s had enough?” asked Keller as he watched Lacroix fighting for his life.
“When he starts to sink,” replied Gabriel calmly.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Don’t ever get on my bad side.”
After forty-five seconds in the water, Lacroix went suddenly still. Gabriel and Keller hauled him quickly back on board and removed the duct tape from his mouth. For the next several minutes the Frenchman was unable to speak as he alternately gasped for air and coughed seawater from his lungs. When the retching finally stopped, Gabriel took hold of his broken jaw and squeezed.
“You might not realize it at this moment,” he said, “but this is your lucky day, Marcel. Now, let’s try this again. Tell me where I can find the girl.”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying to me, Marcel.”
“No,” Lacroix said, shaking his head violently from side to side. “I’m telling you the truth. I have no idea where she is.”
“But you know one of the men who’s holding her. In fact, you had drinks with him at a bar in Rognac a week after she disappeared. And you’ve been in contact with him ever since.”
Lacroix was silent. Gabriel squeezed the broken jaw harder.
“His name, Marcel. Tell me his name.”
“Brossard,” Lacroix gasped through the pain. “His name is René Brossard.”
Gabriel looked at Keller, who nodded his head.
“Very good,” he said to Lacroix, releasing his grip. “Now keep talking. And don’t even think about lying to me. If you do, you’ll go back in the water. But the next time it will be forever.”
12
OFF MARSEILLES
There were two opposing swivel chairs on the afterdeck. Gabriel secured Lacroix to the one on the starboard side and then lowered himself into the other. Lacroix remained blindfolded, his tracksuit sodden from his brief swim in the ocean. Shivering violently, he pleaded for a change of clothing or a blanket. Then, after receiving no answer, he recounted a warm evening in mid-August when a man had appeared unannounced on Moondance, just as Gabriel had earlier that afternoon.
“Paul?” asked Gabriel.
“Yes, Paul.”
“Had you ever met him before?”
“No, but I’d seen him around.”
“Where?”
“Cannes.”
“When?”
“The film festival.”
“This year?”
“Yes, in May.”
“You went to the Cannes Film Festival?”
“I wasn’t on the guest list, if that’s what you’re asking. I was working.”
“What kind of work?”
“What do you think?”
“Stealing from the movie stars and the beautiful people?”
“It’s one of our busiest weeks of the year, a real boon to the local economy. The people from Hollywood are total idiots. We rob them blind every time they come here, and they never even seem to notice.”
“What was Paul doing?”
“He was hanging out with the beautiful people. I think I actually saw him going into the hall a couple of times to see the films.”
“You think?”
“He always looks different.”
“He was running scams from the inside at Cannes?”
“You’d have to ask him. We didn’t discuss it when he came to see me. We only talked about the job.”
“He wanted to hire you and your boat to move the girl from Corsica to the mainland.”
“No,” said Lacroix, shaking his head vehemently. “He never said a word about a girl.”
“What did he say?”
“That he wanted me to deliver a package.”
“You didn’t ask what the package was?”
“No.”
“Is that the way you always operate?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On how much money is on the table.”
“How much was there?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Is that good?”
“Very.”
“Did he mention where he got your name?”
“He got it from the don.”
“Who’s the don?”
“Don Orsati, the Corsican.”
“What kind of work does the don do?”