The Roubaud Connection (Genevieve Lenard, #12)

“He rushes over there.” Vinnie leaned forward, nodded at Colin. “When he gets there, he finds the locker empty. Maybe he goes through the limited outside security footage and sees Jace taking away the crates. He finds Jace and tortures him to force him to reveal where he hid the crates.”

“But Jace can’t tell him because Jace doesn’t talk.” Caelan swallowed and scratched his leg.

“We need to find the crates that Jace took.” I didn’t know how correct their hypothesis was, but it fitted the information we had so far. “That will bring us closer to finding the killer.”

“Who most likely is the distributor.” Daniel looked at Manny. “We find him and we might stop the influx of drugs from the East.”

Manny nodded. “We need to be careful. Politically, this is a minefield.”

“Could this minefield wait until tomorrow?” Phillip moved to the edge of the sofa and studied us. “You are all tired. It’s quarter to seven and I’m sure you haven’t had dinner yet.”

I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow. I wanted to continue studying the chart we got from Adèle’s house. I was sure there was information that could help us find the killer. But from experience, I knew that Phillip was right. My desire to find an answer usually turned into a state of hyperfocus that didn’t allow me to eat or sleep.

It took Francine’s outrageous flirting to convince Caelan that it would be prudent to continue investigating this with a rested and fresh mind. Twenty minutes later, I was sitting next to Colin in his SUV, looking out of the window as we made our way to our flat. I wondered if Nikki had already bathed Eric and whether she had remembered to use the sponge alphabet letters to teach him while playing.

I felt conflicted. On the one hand, I was looking forward to sitting on the sofa and having that little body snuggle up to me after dinner. On the other hand, my mind kept returning to the chart, the mystery of Adèle’s business and the person who had tortured and killed her and Jace.





Chapter EIGHT






“Fabien says they’re ready.” Daniel walked into my viewing room and stopped behind my chair. Colin was sitting at his desk behind me and looked up when Manny, Vinnie and Francine followed Daniel into my room. Daniel continued reading the message on his phone. “He says Claire is not coping well, but she wants to help.”

I felt rested after an evening and morning that allowed me to go through my routines. I had come to accept that as much solace as I found in every day being exactly the same, life simply didn’t afford me that luxury. Yet it was still extremely hard for me to overcome the discombobulation when my routine was interrupted. When I had mornings like this one though, my mind was at ease and I felt better equipped to deal with investigating Jace and Adèle’s deaths. I also felt less disturbed by the people interrupting me.

I closed the images of Adèle’s business chart on the monitor in the centre of the fifteen monitors in front of me and clicked on the video conferencing link. Francine had discovered that Adèle’s twin sister lived in Paris. It was noteworthy how well hidden that connection was. Daniel had wasted no time contacting Fabien Leveaux, his counterpart in Paris.

It had taken the Paris GIPN team less than an hour to find Claire Pichet, but Fabien had then needed another two hours to calm her down after they’d given her the news that her sister had died. I entered the contact information and was about to put the call through when Daniel cleared his throat. “Hold on a sec. I think it’s best if only you and I are visible on the camera. I don’t know how Claire will react to facing a room full of people interrogating her.”

“I agree.” I would never presume to know how a neurotypical person processed such intense grief, but an interrogation such as this would certainly not be easy.

“Okey-dokey.” Francine stopped next to me, turned around and joined Vinnie at the door. Colin got up and stood next to Manny by the wall opposite the door. Manny hadn’t said much when he’d entered my room. He was leaning against the wall, his hands in his trouser pockets and his expression a clear warning not to engage.

Daniel sat down next to me. “Please make sure the camera is only focused on us, then put the call through.”

I adjusted the camera and clicked on the call button. We connected immediately. On the monitor in front of us were three people. I assumed the man in the uniform was Fabien and the woman sitting next to him Claire. A man was standing behind her, both his hands resting on her shoulders.

Claire and Adèle had obviously not been identical twins. Claire’s nose was slightly broader and her cheekbones not as high and pronounced as her sister’s. Her brown hair was much longer than Adèle’s and was currently in a ponytail. Either she never wore makeup or all the makeup she’d put on this morning had been cried off. Her eyes were red-rimmed and the tissue she clutched in her hand confirmed her deep sadness.

“Daniel, this is Claire Pichet.” Fabien’s French had the hints of some areas in the south of France where the endings of words were often dropped. He turned to the man standing behind Claire. “This is her husband, Arnaud.”

“I’m so sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances.” When Daniel spoke French, his voice dropped a tone, his pronunciation softer. He sounded even more empathetic than when he spoke English. “Please accept my most sincere condolences.”

“Thank you.” Claire’s chin quivered and she swallowed.

“This is Doctor Genevieve Lenard.” Daniel turned to me. “She’s helping us find out what happened to your sister.”

She nodded. “I don’t know how I can help, but I’ll do anything I can. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Tell us about your relationship with your sister.” Daniel’s tone was gentle as he asked a question that would not have been my first. I’d observed her micro-expressions and wanted to know what it was she knew and seemed eager to tell us. But experience had taught me that Daniel’s way of starting with less invasive questioning would be more effective in getting the most information.

“We were close.” Her voice broke on the last word and she took a few seconds to regain control over her emotions. “You know we are twins, right?”

“Fraternal twins.” Daniel smiled. “Who was the oldest?”

“Adèle. She was born six minutes before me.” She grabbed her husband’s hand on her shoulder and held onto it as if it was a lifeline. “We talked every day, sometimes three times a day. Even though I live in Paris and she lives... lived in Strasbourg, we didn’t feel the distance.”

“We didn’t find a lot to connect you guys online.”

She nodded. “It was on purpose. Adèle insisted on it. She knew her life could put me in danger, so we never posted anything online to connect us. Only my closest friends know about Adèle. She told me that she made sure no one knew about me, not from her side anyway.”

“What about school friends?”

“We went to school in Paulhan. Most of those people are still in town, working in the local shops.”

“Ah, the beautiful south of France. Picturesque villages and countryside.” Daniel’s smile was reassuring. “But you and Adèle escaped to the big city.”

She paused and narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to be polite.” She took a shaky breath. “I know Adèle was dealing drugs. I will tell you exactly how it happened. But I don’t know the details you will want.”

“Okay.” Daniel sat back in his chair. “I’m listening.”

Her expression grew hard, the corners of her mouth turned down. “You know the kind of people who have bad luck following them everywhere? Well, those are my parents. Everything that could possibly go wrong in their lives has gone wrong. At the moment, they’re living on my uncle’s farm in a small cottage. My dad is helping my uncle on the farm and my mom is cleaning a few people’s houses to get by. Adèle and I stopped helping them a long time ago.”

Estelle Ryan's books