Past Imperfect

'He should do. Since one of the main aims was to make the police look bad, I made things pretty clear on that front.' Flat tone, as if: stupid question. 'Besides, I understand he has a tape. That should be the main thing to swing it.'

Tape? Dominic went ice cold. 'Yes, yes. Of course.' Fought to keep his voice nonchalant. 'So, from your point of view, nothing particular that we should know.'

'No, not really.

'Thanks for your time anyway. Just thought it was safest to check.' Dominic rang off. A juggernaut went close by, its air rush buffeting the car. He shook off a faint shiver and phoned Bennacer back.

'It's a set up,' Dominic said. 'I don't know how yet, but whatever you do don't let Aurillet go into the hearing. Find Corbeix straightaway and get him to arrange a half hour postponement and a private room for Aurillet. I'll be there as soon as I can.'

'You've already been told. You're not our main interest — Duclos is.'

'Well. I've only got your word for that. I'd rather wait until I can be represented by my lawyer.'

'We can do this a couple of ways. To start with, I can bounce you off every wall in this room. I'll claim that you became hysterical, started throwing yourself and furniture around — so I had to restrain you.

Silence. No response from Aurillet.

Dominic sat with Corbeix, Bennacer and Aurillet listening to the tape. It was a small flat memo tape, the type that slots neatly into a wallet. Aurillet had taped the time he was left in the questioning room with Moudeux.

'… Then we can start contacting your clients. Inform them you're under police surveillance.'

'You can't do that!'

'I don't know — public duty, I would have thought. They wouldn't want to get caught up in your mess. We've got five days of clients on tape. Then we can spread the word through our milieu contacts…'

'You bastard!'

'By the time we're finished, whether you want to talk to us or not will be immaterial — you'll be out of business.'

The few minutes remaining on the tape were in a similar vein: threats, intimidation, protests from Aurillet before reluctant agreement to co-operate. Not far different from what they'd had to employ in the first ten minutes with Aurillet now to get him to come clean, Dominic thought sourly. The fact that they already knew from Vacharet that a tape existed gave the initial vantage. Threat of prosecution for deception and perjury on one hand with virtual immunity on the other, tipped the remaining balance.

'So what was the plan?' Dominic asked. 'Getting a strike against the police for intimidation?'

'Not only that,' Aurillet said flatly. 'The voice you have on tape that you think is Duclos — it's not him. Close, but not his voice. His lawyer was going to contest that evidence too, call in a voice analyst. It wouldn't have passed the test.'

Dominic was incredulous as the full details of the plan unravelled: Duclos was desperately afraid of his background with young children emerging. Vacharet was also concerned about being implicated, so agreed to help. Aurillet had a gambling debt of 180,000 Francs which was troubling him, and in the end that was the fee agreed for his part in the plan. They knew that the police had been trying to unearth child pimp background on Duclos through milieu informants — so it wouldn't come as a surprise when an anonymous tip-off came through about Aurillet.

With that, they knew that it was likely that Aurillet's line would be tapped, though made sure by having their own sound engineer check. A decent gap of a few days, and then someone posing as Duclos phones. Aurillet is hauled in for questioning, but doesn't admit anything until unduly pressured.

'When the case comes to court,' Aurillet concluded, 'I deny everything and produce the tape. Duclos' lawyer has already been claiming that the case against his client is falsified — and all of this then ties in perfectly.'

Dominic was breathless at the audacity of the scheme. It would have appeared that the police had manufactured the tip-off and the taped call from Duclos, with a curtain call of intimidation of Aurillet. False tip-off, false tape, intimidation. Game, set and match. They'd only just scraped through the recent hearings with claims of bias — there would have been no possibility of surviving this last onslaught.

Last minute reprieve. Dominic let out a long breath and looked up at the ceiling. 'Jesus!' He looked back sharply at Aurillet. 'Was Thibault in on this?'

'I don't know…'

Stupid question, thought Dominic. Certainly, Thibault had to have been aware before the hearing now. Dominic stormed out into the corridor. He looked its length: three or four people milling, Thibault beyond them at the corridor's end on a wall pay phone.

Dominic felt his anger boil over as he paced towards Thibault. They'd been in the small room with Aurillet for over twenty minutes, and now Thibault was on the phone — no doubt warning Duclos that something had gone wrong.

Seething anger at Duclos' manipulation through the years. Manipulating the evidence and his timing in the cafe thirty years ago, fooling Poullain and Perrimond that he was straight-laced and squeaky clean, manipulating an electorate through all the years since. And now Aurillet and Thibault. Good, upright Duclos. Champion of the people! It was the police and all around him that were manipulative, dishonest...

Thibault didn't see him approach until the last minute. All Dominic overheard was: '…Good question, but I really don't know. It could be that…' Thibault glanced around, saw Dominic, muttered, 'I've got to go now,' and went to put the phone down.

Dominic grabbed it before it hit the cradle. 'Who were you speaking to… Was it Duclos?' Thibault shuffled nervously, looked down, didn't answer. Dominic spoke into the mouthpiece. 'Duclos? Duclos… is that you?

Faint sound of breathing. Some background noises. Then the line went dead.

Dominic slammed down the receiver and pushed Thibault back against the wall. 'You were in on this seedy little scheme, weren't you?' Dominic grabbed Thibault's jacket by the shoulder, balled it tight so that it pulled against his neck. 'And now you were on the phone to Duclos, warning him it might have all gone wrong!'

'Haven't you heard of client-lawyer privilege,' Thibault spluttered. Mixture of fear and outrage.

Pathetic. Just like Duclos: clinging to moral high ground to the last. Dominic thought of Thibault's assault on Calvan, the attack on both his own and Corbeix' credibility. And it was suddenly tempting to bury his fist in Thibault's face, wipe away his self-satisfied smile once and for all. But in the end he just gave Thibault a last push against the wall and let him go. He wasn't worth it.

Bennacer had followed out only seconds later, was now behind him, looking concerned. Corbeix had stayed in the room with Aurillet.

Dominic's main worry was that Thibault had managed to warn Duclos. They had Aurillet, but now they also knew that Vacharet was the main link to Duclos and young boys. Something Duclos would be eager to remove at all costs. If he'd been desperate enough to take out Eynard, then…

Suddenly it hit Dominic that even if Duclos hadn't already been warned by Thibault's call — he'd have guessed something was wrong by him suddenly snatching the phone and calling out his name.

Dominic turned to Bennacer. 'Call your station. Get a squad car out to Vacharet's. And fast.'

'Duclos? Duclos… is that you?'

Duclos recognized the voice immediately. A cold shiver spread through his body. Something had gone wrong. Desperately wrong.

Duclos went over to the window and looked out. Joel was in the garden, kicking a football. The view from the front was probably much the same as it had been twenty minutes ago: gendarme by the front door and thirty metres beyond two reporters by the gate. Life chez Duclos. Less reporters than a few weeks back, but no doubt the rat pack would increase again closer to the full trial.