Chenouda swallowed slowly, though he waited a moment more for the footsteps crunching on snow to fully recede before he pressed stop. His eyes were still fixed keenly on Georges.
‘Quite a boy, your Roman.’
‘He’s not my favourite person either.’ Georges’ voice was slightly hoarse as he struggled to regain composure; his stomach was in knots and his hammering nerves seemed to have robbed his breath. ‘But that still doesn’t mean he was involved with something like this.’ It was a bluff: his doubts about Roman were rising hard and fast, but the last person he wanted to share that with was Chenouda. All he wanted to do was get free and clear from this claustrophobic interview room so that he could marshal some clarity to his wildly churning thoughts. ‘Look. I’ve listened to your tape — as promised. Can I go now?’
Michel didn’t answer, he just continued staring straight through Donatiens, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, as if he could read the bluff. After a second he stood up, started pacing. ‘There was a specific reason why Savard was there that night to meet with Roman. You see, we could have gone with what we already had: Savard claiming that Roman shot Leduc, with you there beside him at the time. But Savard wasn’t actually in the car when it happened, and then too we’d have had the problem of winning over Roman’s likely plea of self- defence. Chances were we wouldn’t have been able to nail him. Roman claimed that Leduc had a gun, you see. It was there on the car floor by the time Savard reached the car.’ Michel looked back hard at Donatiens from the end of the table ‘But then you’d know all about that — you were right there with him when it happened.’
Georges shook his head. ‘You know I’m not saying anything without a lawyer present — that was our arrangement.’ Georges glanced towards Maury for support. Maury had stopped doodling and started making notes. Not that there’d be much to note: Georges had no intention of saying anything.
They were sat at a bare pine table with six chairs around. Minimalist Ikea to match the modern, Spartan lines of Dorchester Boulevard. An informal interview, so it had been agreed at the outset that it wouldn’t be taped. Georges was relieved also that there were no wall mirrors; nobody was looking in from another room.
Michel rested his hands on the end of the table. ‘The main purpose of the meeting that night was for Savard to draw Roman out on the issue of the gun, try and break his self-defence cover. You see — Savard was pretty sure Leduc didn’t have a gun that night.’
Georges looked down, hopefully shielding his flinch and the shadow that crossed his eyes in that second. Chenouda’s gaze was penetrating, unsettling; he could feel it searing through, probably reading volumes into his unsettled reaction.
‘Then again, you’d probably know that too,’ Michel aired. ‘Since you were right there beside him.’
Georges was on his feet, his chair grating back abruptly. ‘Lawyer, lawyer, Chenouda — or I’m walking.’
Michel ignored the protest, barrelled on. ‘And you know why Savard was sure Leduc didn’t have a gun? Because as Leduc got into his car for them to go to the meeting, Savard saw what was in his ankle sock: it was a note-book, not a gun. A black note-book.’
Georges wished now he hadn’t stood; his legs felt suddenly weak, unsteady. ‘Is that so?’ he challenged, but his tremulous undertone defeated any intended bravado. Chenouda wasn’t fooled for a minute. Chenouda not only knew, he seemed pretty sure of his ground that Georges knew too; it was unnerving.
‘The other thing is — that gun on the floor?’ Michel’s tone rose questioningly. ‘Smith and Wesson 6900. Savard never remembered Leduc carrying a gun of that type. But it was one of Roman’s favourites for a compact, second gun.’
Georges shook off a faint shudder as Chenouda’s glare burnt through him. He should never have come along; he’d walked into a lion’s den, a trap. He sat back down and let out a tired, worn sigh. ‘I want to leave. This isn’t what we agreed I came here for. I was just to listen to your tape, you apparently had some warning about the danger I was in — and that was it.’
‘Oh yes — your warning.’ Michel waved one hand in a dramatic sweep. ‘Do you really think Roman’s going to let you live after the trouble he’s gone to getting rid of every other witness to that night? And you pose far more of a threat than Tremblay or Savard. They could only put Roman there — you were right beside him.’ Michel stared the message home. ‘You’re the only one to know that it was cold-blooded murder rather than self-defence.’
Georges cradled his head in one hand, massaging his temples. There was a lot of merit in what Chenouda said; in fact, too much merit, adding ballast to the silent demons gripping him since that night with Leduc. But he didn’t want Chenouda to know that he’d hit a nerve and risk falling deeper into his trap. He wanted somewhere at least a few blocks away over fresh coffee, or perhaps a shot of something stronger, to be able to self-examine, alone, what he really thought. He didn’t even trouble to look up this time. ‘You’ve played the tape, you’ve issued your warning — can I go now?’ A worn, flat tone.
‘Can I go now?… Can I go now?’ Michel parodied. ‘You’re a fucking stuck record.’ He waved a hand to one side. ‘Sure, be my guest. Go out there and let Roman kill you.’
Georges looked between Chenouda and Maury, hardly believing he was being let go so soon, before getting uncertainly to his feet. ‘I’m not convinced Roman had anything to do with Savard’s death. So I’m afraid I just don’t see the danger the same way you do.’
‘Not convinced?’ Michel raised an acute eyebrow. ‘I thought you bankers were meant to be sharp guys. Oh, and I forgot-‘ He put one hand up, a stopping motion. ‘Pretty soon we’re going to know for sure whether Roman had anything to do with Savard or not. Which was actually the other reason why I asked you in right now.’ Michel drew fresh breath and explained about Venegas being ID’d from a Jaques Cartier Bridge camera; he was being sought as they spoke. Michel glanced at his watch: almost an hour since they’d gone to Venegas’s apartment, twenty minutes since they pulled up Massenat in Roman’s BMW. Chac and his team were now parked within eyesight of Venegas’s apartment entrance and a province-wide alert was out. How much longer before he showed? ‘We expect him to be pulled in any minute.’
Georges sat slowly back down again. ‘So if you’ve got him — what do you need with me?’
‘What I need is for you to see this as your last opportunity. With Roman fingered by Venegas, he’ll likely go down for Savard
Georges ruffled his hair brusquely before looking back directly at Chenouda. ‘We’re into lawyer territory again. And we agreed at the outset I wouldn’t be answering anything where I might need a lawyer.'
Michel ignored it. He sensed that he was close to breaking Donatiens. Just a turn more on the screw. ‘I might be wrong — but I don’t think you’d have willingly gone along with Roman, knowing that he was about to murder Leduc. That isn’t your role in the Lacaille organization. And witness to self-defence is not even a misdemeanour. But with you staying quiet, it’s starting to look more and more like it was murder.’ Michel held one hand out, an invitation. ‘If you come clean, I’ll make sure you don’t even see a cell door. But if not…’ Michel waved the same hand towards more uncertain, worrying alternatives.
Georges felt the small room closing in on him tighter. His pulse was racing and there was a constriction in his throat making swallowing difficult. He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had been turned around on him. An hour ago he’d been heading to his office, now he was only a step away from a jail cell. Depending on what move he made next.
Michel felt the conflicts tugging at Donatiens like raw electricity in the air; he was hovering close to the brink. Just one more push should do it. ‘You need to share this with someone for another reason, Georges. Every minute you keep this secret to yourself, you pose a threat to Roman. While he can’t breathe easy — how much longer do you think he’s going to let you breathe? With the secret out, that problem goes too. You get rid of the death threat and the jail cell in one.’
Georges had to admit, it was tempting: no more double game with Jean-Paul and wondering what Roman might do next, no more dreams in the middle of the night with Leduc’s blood sticky against his skin, no more… Georges suddenly stopped:
Georges shook his head. ‘If this was just about Roman, fine. But I work for Jean-Paul, not Roman.’ Georges felt the escape rope firmly in his grasp, felt it pull back some of his clawing nerves. ‘I would do nothing to betray the trust Jean-Paul has put in me, and believe me, it’s reciprocated. Even if I did have reason to fear Roman, he
