AL07 - Murder on the Ile Saint-Louis

trickled down Rene’s shoulders.

“Let me see your ID,” the guard said.

Rene held up the extra laminated badge Aimee had given him. “I’m a network system administrator. Get it? If I can’t deliver, it’s your job on the line.”

“Cool your heels, petit.”

Several men and women in blue work smocks had lined up behind Rene, grumbling. “What’s the holdup? We’ve clocked out.”

Behind him, he saw the orange light of the descending elevator.

Rene reached for a pen. “Where do I sign?”

HIS UPPER LIP still beaded with perspiration, Rene walked toward the budding trees in front of the Faculte des Sciences. He nodded to Saj, who was waiting under a lamppost, light gleaming on his bleached-blond dreadlocks, and opened the door of his parked Citroen, putting the laptop case on the leather seat.

“Namaste,” Saj said, placing the palms of his hands together in greeting.

“Namaste.” Rene returned the gesture. “Thanks for meeting me. Let’s go.”

“What’s with the slash on your bumper?” Saj asked.

“A big rig near the Peripherique got too close for comfort.” Rene’s hands were shaking so much he didn’t think he could drive. He opened the car door, leaned down, and somehow adjusted the seat controls and pedals for someone Saj’s height. “Do you mind driving?”

“To what do I owe the honor?” Saj said. “You’ve never even let me touch the steering wheel before.”

Rene climbed into the passenger seat. Lampposts shone on the bridge. He touched the floppy discs in his pocket for reassurance.

“Move it, Saj. Get us out of here.”

“Rene, you just missed big fireworks downstream on the Seine.” Saj gunned the engine. “You look nervous. What’s up?”

The Citroen shot over the Pont de Sully.

“It’s not every day I steal a laptop and a dead man’s hard drive.”

SEATED IN FRONT of his terminal in Leduc Detective’s office, Rene tugged at his goatee anxiously. He and Saj had copied Vavin’s hard drive to a backup disc. Now for the tough part—cracking Vavin’s password so they could get into the Alstrom files if the Alstrom system hadn’t already shut down his access.

He lowered his orthopedic chair and checked the mail piled in front of the frosted-glass door of Leduc Detective. Bills and more bills.

Saj asked, “Got the software installed?”

Rene nodded.

Saj sat cross-legged in a white flowing shirt and drawstring muslin pants, bent over the Alstrom laptop’s screen.

Breaking into systems was Saj’s specialty and he was a master at it.

Pain pulsed in Rene’s leg. There was still no word from Aimee. He’d left several messages. He wondered if she’d spoken with de Laumain. Or, worst-case scenario, if she was keeping vigil at the hospital by the side of a feverish Stella.

“I’m running the password program. Brute-force attack, as usual. When it hits, we’ll be in business. If we’re lucky.” Saj reached over and ran his fingers over Rene’s neck, down the lumbar curve of his spine.

“Full of tension.” Saj nodded with a knowing look. “Your chi’s blocked.”

Rene’s biggest concern at the moment was if Vavin’s access to Alstrom was blocked.

Saj sat on the wooden floor. “Time to center, Rene; it will clear your mind and do wonders for your spine.”

Might as well; he’d do anything that might help. Rene spread his raincoat on the floor and joined Saj.

“Deep breaths. Think of the tip of your nose. Good, now notice the air entering your nostrils.”

Rene tried to concentrate. He wished his hip didn’t ache.

“Feel the in breath. Good. Now let the air out, let your breath go. Exhale.”

Rene focused on breathing.

“Ommm.” Saj’s mantra mingled with Rene’s exhalations. And then Rene grew aware of a buzzing. Deep and monotonous, at the edge of his consciousness. The creaking of the floorboards broke into his reverie.

“Got it on the 11,034th hit!” Saj was saying, rubbing his palms together in front of Alstrom’s laptop. “Juliette. Probably his wife’s name. Or what do you think, Rene, his mistress?”

Rene’s mouth set in a tight line. “Or his daughter,” he said, thinking back to the child’s photo on Vavin’s desk that Aimee had stared at.

Saj caught Rene’s look and shrugged. “Anyway, you know what that means. We’re in business. Now if the stars are shining on us, Alstrom won’t have denied Vavin’s access yet. I’ll start the dial-up system for remote access and log on to their corporate account,” he continued. “But when I do, we’ve only got twelve hours—maybe, at most, eighteen—before Alstrom finds out and traces the phone number.” Saj rolled his swivel chair back and looked at Rene. “You’re prepared for that?”

Should they take the chance? But what other options did they have right now? He only had a few hours.

Saj stood up and stretched. “Has the travel agency next door moved out yet? You know, I’m thinking—”

“Brilliant, Saj!” Rene stood up, excited.

Saj grinned. “It’s worth a shot.”

Rene looked around in Aimee’s desk drawer, found what he was looking for, and motioned to Saj. “Not only did I steal, now I’m breaking and entering,” he said. He held up a lock-picking kit. “Pray the stars still shine, Saj.”

SAJ PICKED UP the phone in the deserted, shadowed travel-agent office. The desks were littered with travel brochures for Istanbul and Tunisia. He winked. “Dial tone! Let’s hook up.”

In five minutes, Rene heard the welcome series of high-pitched beeps as they attempted to dial up via remote access. The question now . . . had Vavin been blocked yet? Two long minutes later, the PC with Vavin’s password was logged on to the corporate account.

“Now we’re in,” Saj said, “but it still could take a day.”

“That we don’t have,” Rene interrupted. He glanced at his watch, calculated the time. “Four hours. Tops.”

Saj shook his head. “The system is immense. Of course, you’ve got a file name or word string?”

Another obstacle; why hadn’t Aimee told him more? This was going to be like looking for a blade of grass at Versailles.

“Look under pollution, oil spills, toxic percentages, Ministry meeting reports,” Rene said. “But they could have camouflaged it under something else.”

Saj’s fingers clicked over the keyboard. He shook his head as files filled the screen. A whole screenload of files to comb through; their long search had just begun.

“More than hours, this will take . . .”

“Time we don’t have. Go to Vavin’s home directory.” Rene thought fast. It would be dawn in a few hours and he had to return the PC. “We’ll try Vavin’s recent files, say those created within the last two weeks.” With that, and the info they’d copied from his hard drive, they should get somewhere. It was the best they could do.

Wednesday Night

“OPEN WIDER, MON CHERI,” Jadwiga Radziwill said, putting the foie gras–coated cracker into Bibo’s waiting mouth.

Panic-stricken guests rushed past her down the Hotel Lambert’s wide stairway. Candles flickered, their melting wax dripping onto the linen tablecloths. But it was a shame to waste the trays of caviar-dotted blini and the endive shoots filled with creme fraiche, she thought.

“Madame, please allow me.” A waiter offered her his arm. “It is time to evacuate.”