Free The Three Evangelists by Fred Vargas Page B

sorry,’ said Relivaux, ‘but Sophia took it with her, because it had the instructions on it. That’s logical, isn’t it?’
    ‘Ah. That’s a pity, but it doesn’t matter too much. The story sounds convincing.’
    ‘Well, of course it does! Why would anyone think I’d been up to anything?’
    ‘You know perfectly well what is the first thing the police think of when a wife disappears.’
    ‘That’s ridiculous.’
    ‘Yes, it’s ridiculous.’
    ‘The police wouldn’t dare go to those lengths,’ said Relivaux putting his hand stiffly down on the table. ‘I’m not just anybody.’
    ‘No, indeed,’ said Vandoosler gently. ‘Nobody is.’
    He got up slowly. ‘If the flics do come and see me, I’ll back up your story.’
    ‘There’s no need. Sophia will be back.’
    ‘Let’s hope so.’
    ‘I’m not worried about her.’
    ‘Well, so much the better. And thank you for being so frank.’
    Vandoosler crossed the garden to go home. Relivaux watching him go, thought: ‘What the hell is he up to, the busy body?’

XIV
    IT WASN’T UNTIL THE SUNDAY NIGHT THAT THE EVANGELISTS CAME UP with anything concrete. On Saturday, the only time Pierre Relivaux went out was to buy the newspapers. Marc had said to Lucien that he was sure Relivaux would say he was going to ‘consult the national press’, rather than ‘read the papers’, and that one day he would have to test this, just for the pleasure of it. Anyway, he had not stirred all day, having stayed at home with the national press. Perhaps he was worried about getting a visit from the police.
    Then, maybe since nothing seemed to be happening, he appeared to regain confidence. Marc and Lucien had started tailing him when he left the house at about eleven on Sunday morning. He led them to a little house in the 15th arrondissement in south-west Paris.
    ‘You were bang on target,’ said Marc, summing up their day for Vandoosler. ‘The girl lives in a fourth-floor flat. Nice enough girl, easy going, quiet sort, not fussy.’
    ‘Let’s just say she’s nothing to write home about,’ said Lucien. ‘I have standards, you know, and Marc here will give anyone the benefit of the doubt …’
    ‘You’re on your own, with your standards,’ said Marc.
    ‘Quite so,’ said Lucien. ‘But that’s not what we’re discussing. Carry on with your report, lieutenant.’
    ‘That’s all. The girl has her flat paid for, all found. She doesn’t go out to work, we asked the neighbours.’
    ‘So Relivaux does have a mistress. You guessed right,’ said Lucien to Vandoosler.
    ‘It wasn’t guesswork,’ said Marc. ‘The commissaire has a lot of experience.’
    Godfather and godson exchanged glances.
    ‘Mind your own business, St Mark,’ said Vandoosler. ‘Are you sure she was his mistress? Could she not have been a sister or a cousin?’
    ‘We listened at the door,’ Marc explained. ‘Verdict: it’s not his sister. Relivaux left there at about seven. I think he’s a dangerous creep.’
    ‘Don’t jump to conclusions,’ said Vandoosler.
    ‘Don’t underestimate the enemy,’ said Lucien.
    ‘Has the hunter-gatherer not come back yet?’ asked Marc. ‘Still up at Le Tonneau ?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Vandoosler. ‘And Sophia hasn’t telephoned. If she wanted to keep the whole thing quiet but at the same time reassure her immediate friends, she would have told Juliette. But there’s been nothing, not a peep. It’s four days now. Tomorrow, St Matthew will call Leguennec. Tonight, I’ll go over with him what he’s to say. The tree, the trench, the mistress, the missing wife. Leguennec will go for it. He’ll come and take a look.’
    Mathias telephoned the police. He described the facts in a blank voice.
    Leguennec went for it.
    By mid-afternoon, two policeman were tackling the beech tree, under orders from Leguennec, who was holding Pierre Relivaux. He had not even questioned Sophia’s husband formally, since he knew he was operating at the limits of legality.