That was her secret pleasure, really-the bubble she could retreat into when she needed to get away. She spent every other day inspecting depressing crime scenes, her nose in the blood, leading her forensics team as they looked for hints of powder and DNA, evidence that revealed each day more macabre secrets. No matter how much Leila loved her work and no matter how perfectly happy she was managing her own team, just for one afternoon a week, she really needed this escape.
She poured herself another cup of red fruit tea, her eyes glued to the flat screen. Fred Astaire was dancing with Audrey Hepburn, doves and swans all around them. It did not get any better than this.
Until the doorbell yanked her from her reverie, spelling the end of her Sunday afternoon.
She had not been expecting anyone. Grumbling, she paused the video and walked to the intercom.
“Yes?”
“Leila, it’s Alexandre. An emergency.”
She pressed the button and waited for her colleague to come up the stairs. Soon his massive figure appeared at the door. He stared at her, speechless. She was wearing nothing but her T-shirt, a pair of men’s boxers, obviously too big for her, and thick pale-pink socks.
“Yes?” Leila asked again.
“Your phone is off,” he said.
“That’s because I’m not on call today.”
“You are now.”
Exactly what she was afraid of. With a gesture, she invited him in. On the flat screen, Fred Astaire was frozen in midair.
“I’m really sorry to bother you like this,” Vauvert said.
“So why don’t you tell me what you want instead?”
“Yes. Here.”
He pulled a transparent plastic bag from his pocket. Inside the bag, she could see two bloody pieces of metal. Leila frowned.
“Oh. Bullets?”
“Yes.”
She took the little bag and examined the contents.
“And these bullets, where do they come from?”
“They’re mine, Leila.”
Okay. She was beginning to understand.
“You got yourself in trouble again, right?”
“Not yet. But I need you to analyze the blood on these bullets as soon as possible.”
“Who did you shoot?”
“Don’t worry. It was only an animal. Not a human being, okay?”
Leila sighed.
“An animal, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And you want me to believe that you actually extracted your own bullets from some creature’s carcass? Who do you take me for?”
“To tell the truth, I didn’t really extract the bullets,” Vauvert said. “It’s, well, it would be too hard to explain. But I absolutely have to know what kind of animal it is.”
She tilted her head.
“Because you don’t know?” She couldn’t help snickering. “I think you really
“And you are the head of the team. You can come and go as you please.”
As usual, trying to argue with Vauvert was no use. The guy was definitely pig-headed. But he was also a friend, and she knew that if she were ever the one in trouble, she wouldn’t have to explain herself to him. Vauvert would send every procedural excuse to hell and come to her rescue.
“This really can’t wait till tomorrow, huh?”
“Leila, would I be here if it weren’t an absolute emergency?”
“I know. That’s what worries me.” She looked down at her bare legs. “Okay. Do I get a minute to put something on, or do you want me to go to the office half naked?”
29
Just as Leila had said, the forensics headquarters were deserted.
Vauvert sat in a chair in her office while she sifted through the cabinet and picked up a vial of serum.
“You still don’t want to tell me what kind of animal it comes from?” she asked again as she opened her sample box. “It would save us some time.”
The giant cleared his throat.
“Truth is, I don’t know. That’s the reason you’ve got to analyze it.”
“Okay then,” she said. “I’m going to do the search step by step. It shouldn’t be too long, though.”
With a cotton swab, she took a small sample of blood from one of the bullets and placed it on a drop of serum.
As the precipitate turned fluorescent red, Leila made a face.
“What?” Vauvert asked.
She turned to him, her face loaded with worry and rising anger.
“Stop screwing with me now. Tell me what you did.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that this is no animal blood, Alex.”
Vauvert looked stunned.
“Not animal blood?”
She stared daggers at him.
“I don’t know what you’ve done, but this is serious. That’s human blood on this bullet. I can’t cover for you on something as serious as this. Who did you shoot?”
“Well, Leila, that’s precisely the problem. I have no idea.”
“Cut the crap, please. You extracted these bullets. You damn well saw the person they came from.”
He bowed his head.
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
He massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Then he looked at the forensic scientist still staring at him.
“How long would it take you do to a DNA sequencing and run it against the central database?”
“With the new equipment I can do it in less than half an hour. You think that the person you shot is on file?”
“We can give it a try, right?”
Deep inside, he hoped that wouldn’t be the case.
He walked to the window in the hallway to smoke while Leila got busy isolating a DNA strand and starting the sequencer.
He had smoked six cigarettes and was lighting the seventh when she came back to see him, her face ashen, to give him the result.
Vauvert felt the weight of the world pressing very, very heavily on his shoulders.
He remained at the window for a while, watching the canal below and the heavy sky above, before he made up his mind, knowing that anything he did now would topple a series of dominoes and that everything would soon be out of his hands. He pushed open the door to the stairwell. One floor below, he emerged in Homicide
