Wanted: A Leopold Blake Thriller by Nick Stephenson Read Free Book Online Page B

come to a very sudden end.

Chapter 12
   

       
    THE PARIS POLICE Commisariat Central headquarters were located south of the river, opposite the imposing Fontaine Saint-Sulpice, a dominating stone fountain incorporating four ornate statues depicting famous religious figures from history. The impressive monument rested upon four thick octagonal basins, concentric pedestals ringed with intricately carved stone lions who glared menacingly out over the city as cascades of water fell across their backs. In the shade of the great fountain, tourists and office workers sat and enjoyed the view, soaking up a little oasis of calm in the otherwise bustling neighborhood.
    With a reluctant groan from the Citroen’s rusty brake pads, Sophie rolled the car into an empty loading bay and killed the engine, which Leopold presumed was to prevent it from committing suicide. The heat inside the vehicle was unbearable thanks to the steel chassis and lack of air conditioning, and Leopold could feel the sweat on his brow.
    “You’re parking here?” asked Jerome from the back seat. “This is a loading zone. Won’t you get a ticket?”
    Sophie opened the driver’s side door. “The worst they can do if I don’t pay the ticket is impound the car, and this particular model is worth less than it would cost me to pay the fine. I can always get a new car.”
    The bodyguard shrugged and wrenched his own door open. “Suit yourself.”
    Without bothering to lock the car, Sophie led the way to the front of the building where a tall archway announced the main entrance. Feeling a wave of relief as the air conditioning blew a cold draft of air over his face, Leopold followed Sophie toward the reception area where the art restorer mumbled something to the middle aged woman manning the desk.
    “She says to wait here,” said Sophie, taking a seat close to the doors. “ Capitaine Rousseau will come and collect us soon.”
    Obliging, Leopold sat down in silence next to her, catching the faint murmurs of some Europop chart-topper playing in the background. Sophie’s eyes were focused on the far wall, deliberately avoiding him, and her legs were crossed – the body language alternative to “screw you.”
    “I didn’t get a chance to say this before,” said Leopold, trying to catch Sophie’s attention, “but I’m sorry about how this turned out. We approached you as a suspect, and that was the wrong thing to do. If there’s anything either of us can do…”
    She turned to look at him. “You’ve done enough. Tell the police everything you know so that they can get to the bottom of this and find Jean’s killer. Jean was a good man, but desperation can make people do very stupid things. Things that can get them killed.” She bit her lip. “Let’s just get out of here as soon as we can.”
    Leopold heard a door open and turned to see a tall, middle-aged man step into the room. He wore plain clothes, a dark shirt and jeans, and his silver hair was closely cropped in defiance of a receding hairline.
    “ Bonjour , I am Capitaine Rousseau,” he announced in a thick accent. “Please, come with me.” He waved them forward.
    “Time to get this over with,” said Leopold, getting to his feet. The others followed suit.
    “Wait, who are you?” he aimed the question at Sophie.
    “Sophie Bardot,” she replied. “Old family friend of Jean Dubois.”
    “You are with these two?”
    “I was with them when you called, oui. ”
    “Then you can probably answer some questions, too. Follow me please.”
    Leopold struggled to keep pace with the policeman’s long strides as he led them down a long, windowless corridor that smelled like cheap furniture polish.
    “I recognize him,” Sophie whispered, leaning in to Leopold’s ear. “He’s been on television. Something about a string of murders. They call him Le Loup – The Wolf – because he always tracks down his prey.”
    “That’s a little melodramatic,” Leopold whispered back.  
    Sophie