The Circle by Bernard Minier Read Free Book Online Page A

had been solved. Servaz had no more questions. He looked at a small table where three books lay open: a Torah, a Koran and the Bible.
    â€˜Are you interested in religion?’ he asked.
    Winshaw smiled. He took a sip of his whisky, his eyes twinkling mischievously above his glass.
    â€˜It’s fascinating, don’t you think? Religion, I mean. How these lies can blind so many people. You know what I call this table?’
    Servaz raised an eyebrow.
    â€˜â€œThe stupid bastards’ corner”.’

6
    Amicus Plato sed major amicus veritas
    Servaz dropped a coin into the coffee machine and pressed the button for an Americano with sugar. He had read somewhere that, contrary to popular belief, there was more caffeine in ‘long’ coffees than in espressos. The cup fell sideways from the dispenser, half the liquid spilled to one side and he waited in vain for the sugar and the stir stick.
    He drank it down all the same, to the last drop.
    Then he crumpled the cup and tossed it in the bin.
    Finally, he went through the door.
    The gendarmerie in Marsac did not have an interview room, so they had set aside a little meeting room on the first floor. Servaz immediately noticed the location of the window and frowned. The prime danger in this sort of situation was not so much that the suspect might attempt to escape, but rather commit suicide, if he felt driven to it. Even if it seemed highly unlikely that he would throw himself from the first-floor window, Servaz didn’t want to take any chances.
    â€˜Close the shutters,’ he said to Vincent.
    Samira had opened her laptop and was preparing the statement, noting the time they had begun. Then she swivelled it so she’d be able to film the suspect. Once again, Servaz felt behind the times. Every day his young assistants reminded him how quickly the world was changing and how maladjusted he was. He reflected that some day soon the Koreans or the Chinese would invent robot-investigators and he would be put out to pasture. The robots would be equipped with lie detectors and lasers that could detect the slightest inflection in the voice or movement of the eye. They would be infallible and emotionless. But lawyers would probably find a way to ban them.
    â€˜What the fuck are they doing?’ he asked, annoyed.
    Just then the door opened and Bécker came in with Hugo. The boy wasn’t wearing handcuffs. Servaz observed him. He seemed absent. And tired. He wondered whether the gendarmes had already tried to interrogate him.
    â€˜Have a seat,’ said the captain.
    â€˜Has he seen a lawyer?’
    Bécker shook his head.
    â€˜He hasn’t said a word since we took him in.’
    â€˜But you did remind him that he had the right to see one?’
    The gendarme shot him a nasty look and handed him a typed sheet of paper without bothering to reply. Servaz read, ‘Has not requested a lawyer.’ He sat down at the table opposite the boy. Bécker went to stand near the door. Servaz told himself that since Hugo’s mother already knew he was here, there was no one else he needed to inform.
    â€˜Your name is Hugo Bokhanowsky,’ he began, ‘and you were born on 20 July 1992, in Marsac.’
    No reaction. Servaz read the next line. And gave a start.
    â€˜You are in the second year of literary preparatory classes at the lycée in Marsac …’
    Hugo would be eighteen in one month. And he was already taking the advanced preparatory classes. A very intelligent boy … He wasn’t in the same class as Margot – who was in the first year – but he was nevertheless at the same school. Which meant there was a good chance that Margot had also had Claire Diemar as a teacher. He made a note to ask her.
    â€˜Would you like a coffee?’
    No reaction. Servaz turned to Vincent.
    â€˜Go and get him a coffee and a glass of water.’
    Espérandieu stood up. Servaz looked closely at the young man. He was