Perez nodded.
‘One for Feraud and one for Charles Ducane… because these people were ultimately responsible for the deaths of your wife and your daughter.’
Perez said nothing; he merely reached for a cigarette and lit it. There was an air of satisfaction about his manner, perhaps a sense of completeness, as if now he had said all he intended to say and his business was closed.
‘It is some life you have had,’ Hartmann said.
‘It is not over yet,’ Perez replied.
‘You understand that you will spend the rest of your years in some high-security penitentiary facility.’
‘I imagine so.’
Hartmann was quiet for a moment, and then he looked across at Perez. ‘I have a question.’
Perez nodded.
‘Your son.’
‘What about him?’
‘Where he is, what he’s doing… does he have any real idea of what has happened here?’
Perez shrugged.
‘Does Victor know where you are, that you kidnapped the daughter of the governor of Louisiana?’
Perez shook his head.
‘But he knows enough of the life you have led-’
‘Victor knows that I was not prepared to kill Emilie Devereau’s father,’ Perez interjected, ‘and though he believed his love for her was strong enough to have carried the guilt of such a thing, he is still in some ways naive. He knew enough of who I was to understand that I would have been capable of such a thing, but when he finally realized that I would not commit this murder for him he decided that he would have no more to do with me.’ Perez paused and shook his head. ‘In his mind he managed to convince himself that somehow I had betrayed him.’
‘Do you know where he is now?’
Perez shook his head. ‘He is out there somewhere, Mr Hartmann, and though I love him, love him more than any other person in the world, I am able to let him go. He will find his own way, I am sure of that, and though I will never see him again I know also that he will never become the man that I became.’
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘Yes, I am sure of it.’
‘You said something to me about Shakespeare, the two families that could never be together.’
‘I did.’
‘And this was what you meant… Victor, and Emilie Devereau?’
Perez nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And when you could not give your son what he wanted you decided to seek revenge for the murders of your wife and your daughter.’
‘I did.’
‘Understanding that in closing that particular chapter of your life you would also see your own life come to an end?’
A hint of a smile from Perez, and then he closed his eyes for just a moment. He leaned forward, ground out his cigarette, and reached for another.
‘They will seek the death penalty, you know.’
‘I know they will,’ Perez said, ‘but I am sure there will be many years of appeals and wrangling between the lawyers, and before they ever get to preparing my lethal injection I will die of old age.’ He drew on his cigarette; tendrils of smoke crept from his nostrils.
‘And now?’ Hartmann asked.
‘Now I tell you where she is, right?’
Hartmann nodded.
‘And as for me?’
‘There are two men here from Quantico. They are going to take you to the FBI Behavioral Science facility where there are at least three dozen criminal profilers who want to pick your brains.’
‘The food will be good down there?’
Hartmann shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’
Perez smiled. ‘Perhaps I will order take-out.’
‘Perhaps you will. And now, please, tell us where we find Catherine Ducane.’
‘You remember where you found the car?’
‘Gravier.’
‘Just a little way from there you will find a place called the Shell Beach Motel.’
Hartmann’s eyes widened. ‘The Shell Beach Motel… that’s no more than two or three miles from here.’
‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, that’s what I was told,’ Perez said. ‘Cabin number eleven, the Shell Beach Motel. Go find Catherine Ducane and tell her this thing of ours is done.’
Hartmann rose from his chair. He crossed to the door, opened it, and beyond it found Stanley Schaeffer waiting in the hallway.
Schaeffer nodded at Perez.
Ernesto Perez rose slowly. He took one more drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. There was an air of finality to this action, as if he understood that everything had now come to its own natural conclusion. He walked towards Hartmann, and then paused in the doorway. He reached out his hand. Hartmann took it and they shook. Perez then leaned forward and – with his hands on Hartmann’s shoulders – he kissed each of his cheeks in turn.
‘Live your life well, Ray Hartmann… go back to New York and make believe this thing never happened. Fix whatever differences you may have with your wife and make it work, if only for the sake of your child.’
Hartmann nodded.
‘So long, Ray Hartmann,’ Perez said quietly, and then he turned to Schaeffer and smiled. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said, and when Schaeffer started down the hallway, Ernesto Cabrera Perez followed him slowly and never once looked back.
The FBI unit assigned to recover Catherine Ducane had already left by the time Schaeffer and Perez reached the street. Parked against the curb was the Humvee, beside it the two agents from Quantico, McCormack and Van Buren. Van Buren made his way around the back of the vehicle and handcuffed Perez. He escorted him to the side of the Humvee and McCormack opened the door. Van Buren climbed in beside Perez and used a second set of cuffs to manacle him to the arm of the seat. McCormack took the driver’s side and Schaeffer sat up front beside him. By the time the engine had started both Hartmann and Woodroffe had reached the street outside the hotel. They watched as the Humvee pulled away, and as it passed the junction Hartmann saw Perez turn and look at him. His expression was implacable and emotionless.
Hartmann lowered his head and looked at his shoes. He felt as if the center of his life had been pulled out and everything inside him was spiraling silently into the vacuum it had left behind.
‘The son,’ Woodroffe said. ‘I still can’t get my mind off the son.’
‘You were listening across the hall?’ Hartmann asked.
‘I was,’ Woodroffe said. ‘I know what Perez said, this thing about the son being pissed off because he wouldn’t kill the girl’s father, but I still feel there’s something else. I’m gonna go inside and call Quantico… get them to run this Emilie Devereau through the database. If we can find her, we might be a step closer to finding where Victor Perez has been while his father has been with us.’
‘You still think he was involved, don’t you?’ Hartmann turned and looked at Woodroffe. Truth was he didn’t care what Woodroffe thought; he didn’t care what anyone thought in that moment. His mind was on Carol and Jess, how he would go right back into the Royal Sonesta and call them, tell them he was coming home, that he would meet them any time they wanted, any place they chose, and there were so many things he wanted to say.
‘I think
