The Stone Council by Jean-Christophe Grangé

Author:Jean-Christophe Grangé
Language: eng
Format: epub

"They knew them. At the end of August, Thomas had three men brought over from the Federation of Russia. Three former elite soldiers — or spetsnaz — who'd started to work as bodyguards. Officially, he took them on to increase security in his foundation during the Mondrian exhibition. But according to our sources, these men had already worked for the Russian mafia. We don't know how Thomas unearthed them, but we can suppose that he still had contacts in Russia."

Diane thought over the violence of the previous night: the steel-capped boots raining kicks on her face, the figures jolting from the force of their own bullets. How on earth had she survived? Langlois went on:

"So we can assume that Thomas actually took them on to organise the 'accident' on the ring-road. But I think he was also scared of something. Or someone. Such as the murderer who managed to infiltrate the museum yesterday afternoon…"

He turned towards her, carefully articulating his conclusions:

"I mean our murderer, Diane. The one who killed Rolf van Kaen. It's then easy to piece together last night's events. At the end of the day, the three Russians found the body and put it in the bathroom. Then they started arguing, probably about money — they must have been tempted to take a couple of paintings away with them. At that moment, you showed up, which really put the cat among the pigeons.

Then they shot each other right in front of you. That's what you told the police, isn't it?"

"Exactly."

"It just about fits."

Diane peered round at him.

"What do you mean, just about?"

"We still have to reconstruct the scene, to check the positions of the bodies and the trajectory of the bullets. I hope for your sake that it all stands up."

Langlois sounded distinctly incredulous, but Diane pretended not to notice. Her thoughts were becoming increasingly confused. Amid these dark waters, another memory floated up: Philippe Thomas's ghastly pink corpse, covered with a veil of dead skin. She asked:

"Do you know anything about Thomas's illness?"

Langlois looked astonished.

"You saw the body?"

She had blown it. It was too late to go back.

"Yes, after the massacre," she said. "I went into the apartment and…"

"Then you went back into the museum?"

"That's right."

"And did you tell the Saint-Germain police that?"

"No."

"This is a ridiculous game you're playing, Diane."

"But Thomas was ill, wasn't he?"

The lieutenant sighed.

"It's called desquamation. It's a particularly virulent form of eczema, which causes the skin to peel right off. From what I understand, Thomas regularly changed his skin."

Diane suddenly thought that he might have worn that greatcoat to protect his mutating body. But her thoughts started to blur. She was beginning to feel sleepy. She noticed that they'd reached Porte Maillot.

The traffic had got a lot thicker and Langlois promptly placed his magnetic flashing light on the roof.

He then sped up Avenue de la Grande-Armée with his siren blaring. Diane slumped down into the seat and let the feeling of torpor wash over her.

When she woke up, the car was crossing Place du Pantheon.

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