Death at the Clos du Lac by Adrian Magson

Author:Adrian Magson [Magson, Adrian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery & Crime
Published: 2013-08-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

‘Not losing your touch, are you?’ Levignier addressed his remark to Jacqueline Roget as she stepped inside his apartment a stone’s throw from the Jardin du Luxembourg in central Paris. His tone was only mildly accusatory in spite of his frustration at the failure of his plan to hobble the inspector. It was a small setback, and one he had not anticipated. But he had no desire for a fight with this woman, who was not as fully trained in security-related duties as other more direct-action members of the department, but infinitely better connected. The truth was, although she fulfilled certain assignments for his department, and he had a clear and definite authority over her, she was no lackey. Yet that knowledge alone, quite apart from her attractiveness, filled him with excitement. ‘I thought this one would be easy for you.’

Her eyes flashed momentarily at the implied dig, but she shrugged fatalistically. ‘Maybe your Inspector Rocco doesn’t like women,’ she commented.

‘You think?’ The thought actually hadn’t occurred to him, and he made a mental note; it might be an angle worth investigation. People with what society regarded as peccadilloes were always more vulnerable to pressure than others. Maybe this would be Rocco’s.

His hope was short-lived.

‘Actually, I don’t. Quite the opposite, in fact.’ She was holding a broken shoe, the heel hanging off at an angle. She was now wearing a pair of flat pumps. ‘I broke my shoe. These were my favourites.’

‘That’s not a problem, my dear. Send the bill to me personally.’

She dropped her purse on a Louis Quatorze table in the hallway and lifted carefully tended eyebrows. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured coolly, ‘but I do this work because I want to – not for the money. I also enjoy what I do … but I would like to do more.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’ Levignier interpreted that to mean much more than real work, and decided to call a truce. Now was not the time for business talk, anyway. He took her arm, leading her through into the front salon. Like the rest of the apartment, it was elegantly furnished with antiques and fine glassware, a legacy from an uncle in the Foreign Service who had loathed the countryside and preferred to stay in the city where he was assured of every luxury money could buy. Levignier didn’t have quite the same level of finances, but the apartment was his for free, which gained him certain advantages, such as the attentions of certain young women. Like Jacqueline, he hoped. He had never tried to push beyond their professional relationship before, but he was sure there would be little resistance from her. As he knew well, power carries its own aphrodisiac.

He poured drinks and shrugged off his jacket. It had been a long day. He had been waiting for news of Rocco’s potential downfall. Accused of assaulting a distraught and very convincing Jacqueline Roget, daughter of a senior member of the French diplomatic corps and therefore above reproach,

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