Dominique Manotti: Dead Horsemeat

‘Meaning?’

‘He smoked ice.’ She sees the scene in her mind’s eye. ‘Special cigarettes which he kept in a packet of beedies, you know, those stinky Indian cigarettes. Maybe that’s what it was that made him lose it? Poor grade stuff… Otherwise, no worse than any of the others.’

‘Poor quality ice, OK, and we’re not asking you who his dealer was. But behind the mirror in the room, there was a video camera, and that must have come as a bit of a shock to him, don’t you think?’

Well informed, these cops. Careful. Emphatic wave of the hand.

‘Absolutely. I was going to tell you about it. I found out about it at the same time as he did.’

Daquin smiles.

‘We’re not trying to make things difficult for you.’

Romero changes the subject:

‘Do you think that after that fight he could have gone off in search of homosexual relations?’

Evita stares at him for a moment in silence.

‘What planet are you on, lover-boy? What my clients want is a beautiful woman with big breasts and a penis. Some of them come as soon as they touch my cock. And they all dream of being screwed. So you see, homosexual relations or not, it’s hard to say.’

‘Let’s go back to Deluc. And your departure for Munich, last Wednesday.’

‘Perrot calls at about five or six, I’m not dressed yet. He tells me he’s sending his chauffeur to collect me to take me to Munich for a month, for my protection. Initially, I refuse. I’ve always been self-employed. He insists.’ She pauses for a while. ‘Do you know him? He’s not someone you really want to argue with.’ Another pause. ‘To be honest, he scares me. When he sees that I’m going to say yes, he talks about money. Enough for me to go partying in the Caribbean for three months. Three months partying in exchange for one month in prison, I’ll take it. And he agrees to pay up front.’

‘He didn’t say why he needed to keep you out of Paris?’

‘No, and I didn’t ask. In my profession, the less I know the better. But I did think Deluc must have done something stupid, and that Perrot was keen that nobody should find out about his little sexual habits, his cigarettes or his outbursts.’ She carries on with an enticing smile. ‘As I know nothing, I’m not in great danger. But by the time the gorgeous Latino turned up with his Saudi Arabia story, I was sick of being locked up. I told myself, since Perrot paid in advance, three months’ partying in exchange for one week of misery is even better. And the journey was great fun. Thank you, all of you.’

Daquin arrives at Boulevard Maillot in a taxi before the sun has even risen. It takes Annick a while to come to the door. Her features seem indistinct, lost in the mass of golden hair tumbling over her shoulders. She’s wearing a midnight-blue towelling bathrobe that is too big for her. Michel’s probably. Wants to caress her shoulder with his fingertips. Absolutely out of the question.

‘Come in. I’ll try and make some coffee.’

When she comes back into the big living room, Daquin, comfortably settled in a wing chair, starts talking straight away while she pours the coffee.

‘I’ve come to settle the score with you. But first of all, I’ve got a few questions to ask you.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Have you known Deluc long?’

She sits on the sofa, cup in hand, and gazes at him for a moment intrigued.

‘I imagine you already know the answer?’

‘Of course. Otherwise I wouldn’t ask the question.’

‘We were at high school together in Rennes, then in the same political group in May ’68. We fought alongside each other, attacking the foremen with iron bars at the factory gates.’ The sirens, the cops, the chase through the woods, falling… she smiles at him. ‘Are you shocked?’

‘Not really.’

‘He played the charismatic leader, and I do believe I was in love with him.’

He runs over to her, she falls, not a hand out to help her, he carries on running. It was important to salvage the hard core of the revolution, he would tell her later. The hard core of the revolution. At nineteen. Until he let me down…Teenage heartbreak.

‘I left Rennes, and I lost touch with him.’ A silence. ‘When we met up again in Paris, years later, we needed each other to extend our networks, him in business, and me among the socialists who had just come into power, and we became close friends again.’ She falls silent, stares at him. He hasn’t moved, tense, attentive. ‘You know, I’m just like everybody else. I have memories. I live with them. That’s all.’

‘No, it’s not all. My job is to listen to people. And when I listen to you telling the story of your provincial background, I’m struck by the emotional intensity that lies behind it. I want to know what there really is between you and Deluc.’

Annick lets herself go, her eyes closed, lost alone on the sofa.

‘During a clash with the cops, Christian left me alone and I was raped at the police station.’

Daquin flexes his hands. This is the chink.

‘I blamed him for what happened.’ Her voice remains neutral. ‘Then I pragmatically decided to put it all behind me, so that I could get on with my life, I papered over the cracks as best I could and I’ve survived.’

Daquin lets the minutes tick by without saying a word, without moving. Annick suddenly opens her eyes.

‘For years, I refused to face up to the facts. And now, I admit to myself that ever since that night, I’ve hated Deluc, with every fibre of my being. And that makes me feel good.’ Another lapse into silence. ‘You’re a very unusual man.’

Daquin rises, picks up the coffee pot, fills their two cups and sits down again in the wing chair.

‘My turn now. For about twelve years, Deluc has been receiving large sums of cash from Perrot. ‘Annick flashes back to the hard core of the revolution. ‘In exchange for information and contacts. He probably didn’t feel he was being bribed, at least at first, just that he was clever, powerful and resourceful. Then Transitex goes under and Perrot, who runs the whole business behind the scenes, is worried. Naturally, he goes to Deluc and asks him to have the investigation stopped. That was probably last Friday. That must have shaken Deluc, who thought Perrot was a risk-taking property developer, not a drugs smuggler. He discovers that it’s not he who’s using Perrot, but vice versa. A heavy blow to his puffed-up ego.’

‘You seem to know him extremely well.’

‘He consoles himself by smoking vast quantities of ice, which he’s always got in plentiful supply in his famous cigarette case…’ Annick shudders, ‘…and by fucking the transvestite he regularly puts through a routine at Perrot’s.’ Annick sits up, her elbows pressed to her body, without a word. Daquin smiles at her. A very charming person.

‘Spare me your sarcasm.’

‘Shall I continue?’

‘Go on.’

‘First violent outburst – that evening he nearly kills the transvestite. Then, between Sunday and Wednesday, Deluc has the photos of Michel and me having a good time in front of him. You can imagine how that shakes him up. He comes here, we’ve had confirmation that he was in Boulevard Maillot in the afternoon. To get Michel to talk to him about me so he can create trouble for me? To fuck him? I can imagine Michel’s domestic slave side would excite him.’

‘You can’t talk about Michel like that.’

‘I’m not talking about Michel, I’m talking about Deluc. In living room, he takes out his cigarette case and smokes a cigarette stuffed with ice to boost his courage. Result, he gets a hard-on. According to the transvestite, he couldn’t get it up without a smoke. They probably began to have sex together. I expect Michel found the situation very amusing until things turned nasty. Deluc panics, bad trip, like with the transvestite. He kills Michel and goes and hides at Perrot’s in a state of shock. He probably told him that he’d just killed Michel and Perrot took a certain number of precautions to protect him because they have very close ties and he needs him. There you are.’