The Last Witness

on concrete, quickly joined by two or three more sets. Michel pulled his attention sharply back. ‘Ah… I don’t think this is something we could do here. Some of it’s quite sensitive information that I don’t think you’d like your staff overhearing. And it also involves me playing a tape for you — which is all set up back at the station.’ Michel held one arm out towards the elevators.

Donatiens’ eyebrows knitted. ‘Am I under arrest?’

‘No, no. Not at all,’ Michel assured. The hum of an elevator rising, faint shuffling. Chac’s voice: “I’ll knock, and me and Phil will stand to one side, our guns with safety’s off but still holstered. You three stand a yard behind but face-on with guns drawn and pointed with a clear bead on the opening door.” ‘It’s just some information that we need to pass on, but we believe it could be vitally important.’ Michel paused, looking down for a second as if to add suitable gravity to his next words. ‘We’re concerned about your future welfare and safety. We believe you could be in danger.’

‘Concerned about my safety?’ Donatiens shook his head and smiled crookedly; but Michel picked up the underlying strain in Donatiens’ voice, the tone slightly higher. He’d hit a nerve. ‘That’s very gratifying, Inspect-’

‘-Staff-Sergeant.’

‘… Staff-Sergeant Chenouda. But I think you know the rules. Before I can even think of speaking to you, I’d have to have my lawyer present.’

Elevator door opening. Muted, rapid footsteps along a carpeted corridor. Chac’s breathing heavier, expectant. But the only thing Michel had control over now was Donatiens, and it was fast slipping away. His mouth was suddenly dry; he moistened his lips with his tongue.

‘That’s your prerogative, sir. But I only have clearance to play the tape concerned to you. It’s considered privileged information, and we’d have to seriously review how playing it to a lawyer — particularly an organization lawyer — might later effect our case.’ Doorbell ringing, then three sharp raps. Michel’s palms were sweating, his nerves as taut as piano wire. Handling the two at the same time was a nightmare. ‘You might also consider how letting an organization lawyer overhear the tape might effect your own position. And safety.'

It was all there between the lines, thought Georges. ‘And this tape concerns Roman Lacaille, you say?’

‘Yes… that’s correct.’ Brief pause and then another buzz and sharp rapping. Michel bit at his bottom lip. But at least Donatiens was starting to sway.

Georges weighed his options: if he called Perreault, the Lacaille family lawyer, Roman would know about it in seconds flat. If he called an independent lawyer, that in itself would look suspicious, as if he had something to hide. The Lacaille family tentacles reached too far for comfort with city law firms; he couldn’t be sure of using one that would go undiscovered. He could just say no to Chenouda, but then he’d never find out about the tape or the supposed danger he was in. Chenouda had played him well; he had his interest piqued about both, and knew it. The only thing that struck a strange chord was Chenouda’s radio headset complete with earpiece. It was obvious from Chenouda’s eye contact flickering away at moments and his split-second delay with some responses, that he was at the same time listening in to something.

Georges chuckled lightly, partly a release of tension. ‘What is this?’ He pointed to the headset. ‘You auditioning as one of Madonna’s backing singers?’

Michel forced a wry smile. ‘Something like that.’ He had Donatiens hooked, and they both knew it. He didn’t feel inclined to ease off the pressure by slipping into weak banter.

Door opening. Chac announcing himself and asking for Enrique Venegas. ‘I have a warrant here for his arrest.’

‘He’s not here.’ A woman’s voice. ‘You just missed him.’

‘How long ago did he leave?’

‘Ten or twelve minutes ago.’

Georges watched Chenouda’s eyes flicker as he listened in. What was it? Was somebody at HQ instructing him? If he mentions a lawyer, say this. If he’s obstructive, say that. He noticed Chenouda’s eyes cloud after a moment, look worried.

‘I don’t know,’ Georges said. ‘I think if I’m going to come in with you, it’s something I’ve got to think over for a while.’

Michel was gripped with panic. His stomach had sunk upon hearing that they’d missed Venegas, and now it was sky-diving again. Shit. Now he could lose Donatiens as well. But he knew that pressing harder would be the wrong play. Nothing left but to ease off, take a step back.

Michel shrugged. ‘That’s up to you. Our information has it that Roman wants to move fast on this. But if you want to delay and run the risk, fine. You probably know Roman better than me.’ Michel turned to look at the elevator lights.

Maury, who had stayed silent throughout, forced an apologetic smile and shrugged as Donatiens’ eyes fell on him.

‘… We still have to check and see, you understand…’

‘Yeah… okay… okay.’ The woman sounded hesitant, uncertain for a second. Then the jostling and rustling of them moving around the apartment. Michel’s heart pounded hard. Please God, find Venegas hidden in a back room! And now he was playing Russian roulette with Donatiens as well. His legs felt weak, unsteady. He could feel Donatiens’ eyes on him, almost feel his mind frantically hammering: Savard dead, but just how far was Roman prepared to go? And what exactly was on that tape?

‘… What’s that sound from behind the door at the end?’

‘That’s nothing… nothing…’

But the woman sounded nervous, her voice tremulous, and Michel’s heart pounded almost in time with Chac’s laboured breathing as Chac moved towards the door, opening it…

‘…Only my daughter.’

Sound of a radio playing. ‘Yeah, I see… okay.’ A young girl’s mumbled response which Michel couldn’t discern. Michel’s nerves eased back.

The elevator to the far left was the first to arrive. Four people got out, gave the assembled group a cursory glance, then moved off three in one direction, one in the other. The back of Michel’s neck ached with tension. Come on Donatiens, don’t slip away from me as well. And he was about to turn and add something to try and retrieve the situation when Donatiens finally spoke.

‘…If I come down to you without a lawyer, you appreciate I’m not going to answer any questions.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Michel assured. ‘We’ll simply play you the tape and tell you why we think you’re in danger. If you have any comment on that, fine.’

Maury leapt across as the elevator doors started closing and they sprang quickly open again.

They stood as an awkward tableau for a moment with Maury half-in, half-out of the elevator. Then finally Donatiens nodded.

‘Okay, okay… how long will we be?’

‘An hour or so, no more.’ Michel held Donatiens’ gaze steady, trying to keep any flinch from his eyes. He knew it was a lie: once Donatiens was in his grasp, he’d be lucky to get out this side of nightfall.

After a moment a resigned nod and another ‘Okay,’ from Donatiens, and Michel held one arm out like a bell-boy.

‘She’s telling the truth, Michel. He’s not here.’

It was the first time Chac had addressed him directly. Michel felt any last vestiges of hope slip away, his stomach sinking again, this time in tune with the elevator’s fall.

Michel pressed the receiver’s button. ‘How long does she think he’s gone for?’

Chac asked, and Michel heard the woman reply that he hadn’t said. ‘But he packed and took with him a large kit bag — if that’s any clue.’

‘You hear that?’ Chac confirmed.

‘Yeah.’

‘Any suggestions?’

‘Probably. But let me come back to you in a couple of minutes.’ He had an idea forming, but he’d prefer to air it out of earshot of Donatiens. He’d wait for Maury to put Donatiens inside the car and hold back outside a