Kate Mosse by Labyrinth

Author:Labyrinth [Labyrinth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-12-23T11:17:21+00:00

Ariege

Paul Authie had expected Marie-Cecile to use the journey into the Ariege to continue last night’s discussion or else ask him about the report. But apart from the occasional comment, she said nothing.

In the confined space of the car, he was very physically aware of her.

Her perfume caught in his nose, the scent of her skin. Today she was K wearing a pale brown sleeveless shirt and matching trousers. Sunglasses concealed her eyes and her lips and nails were the same, burned red.

Authie shot the cuffs on his shirt, glancing discreetly at his watch. Allowing a couple of hours at the site, then the journey back, they were unlikely to be back in Carcassonne much before the end of the afternoon. lit was very frustrating.

“Any news of O’Donnell?” she said.

Authie was startled to hear his thoughts voiced aloud. “Not so far.”

“And the policeman?” she said, turning to face him.

There’s no longer a problem.“

“Since when?”

“Early this morning.”

“Did you learn anything more from him?”

Authie shook his head.

“So long as nothing can be traced back to you, Paul.”

It won’t be.“

She was silent for a moment, then asked: “And the English woman?”

“She arrived in Carcassonne last night. I’ve got someone tailing her.”

“You don’t think she went to Toulouse in order to deposit the ring or the book there?”

“Unless she handed it over to someone inside the hotel, then no. She had no visitors. She talked to no one, either in the street or in the library.” arrived at the Pic de Soularac just after one o’clock. A wooden palisade had been erected around the car park. The gate was padlocked shut. As arranged, there was no one on duty to witness their arrival.

Authie opened the gate and drove through. The site was unnaturally quiet after the activity of Monday afternoon. An air of abandonment hung about everything. The sides of the tents battened down, the pots and pans and rows of tools neatly labelled.

“Where’s the entrance?”

Authie pointed up to where the scene of crime tape still flapped in the breeze.

He took a torch from the glove compartment. They climbed up the lower slopes in silence, the oppressive afternoon heat weighing down on them. Authie pointed to the boulder, still lying on its side, like the head of a fallen idol, then led her the final few metres to the cave itself.

“I would like to go in alone,” she said as they reached the top.

He was irritated, but didn’t show it. He was confident there was nothing in the chamber for her to find. He’d combed every last centimetre of the cave himself. He handed her the torch.

“As you wish,” he said.

Authie watched as she disappeared into the tunnel, the beam of light getting weaker and more distant until it vanished altogether.

He wandered away from the entrance, until he was out of earshot.

Even being close to the chamber made him angry. His hand went to the crucifix at his neck, like a talisman to ward off the evil of the place.

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost,” he said, crossing himself.

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