Central Park by Guillaume Musso (ebook reader macos .TXT) 📕

his expression much more worried. It was like meeting him for the first time.

“All right, I’ll go with you,” she agreed. “But on one condition: I want to be part of the investigation.”

“That’s not up to me.”

“Officially or unofficially, we work as a team: you give me your information and I give you mine. Otherwise, we go our separate ways now—and you can kiss the blood sample goodbye. Take it or leave it.”

Gabriel removed a cigarette from the pack he’d found in the Honda. He lit it and took a few nervous drags, giving himself time to think.

Alice watched him from the corner of her eye. She recognized him now as one of her own kind: a monomaniacal cop prepared to do anything to stay on the case. The kind of cop who stayed up nights trying to get into the heads of criminals in order to understand their motives. The kind of cop who considered catching murderers an almost sacred duty.

He took out the keys to the Mustang and dropped them on the table. “All right, it’s a deal,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray. “Let’s go.”

15Prepare for War

THE HEMATOLOGY LABORATORY occupied the top floor of an ultramodern building with a crystalline façade located on Fifth Avenue between Mount Sinai Hospital and the Museum of the City of New York.

It didn’t take Gabriel and Alice long to reach the border of the Upper East Side and Spanish Harlem. Luckily, it was midafternoon, so there were plenty of parking spaces. They found a spot on one of the streets surrounding the immense medical complex.

“Wait for me in the car, okay?” Gabriel said.

“Are you kidding? No way—I’m coming with you.”

“All right.” Gabriel sighed. “But let me do the talking. I’m leading this investigation. Understood?”

“Got it, Chief,” she mocked, opening her door.

Gabriel got out of the car too. “And let’s not waste any time, okay?” he said.

Alice nodded and followed him into the lobby and then the elevator. At this time of day, the lab reception area was practically empty. Behind the desk, an employee was eating a salad from a plastic container.

Gabriel introduced himself and asked to see Eliane Pelletier, the lab’s deputy director.

“She’s French?” said Alice, surprised.

“No, she’s from Quebec. And I’d better warn you, she’s kind of strange,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Meaning?”

“I’ll let you figure it out for yourself.”

Eliane Pelletier appeared almost immediately at the end of the corridor.

“Gabe, my boy,” she called to him from down the hall. “Have you brought your fiancée to see me?”

She was a small, sturdy woman with short gray hair. She wore square-framed glasses and a white lab coat open over a baggy black tunic. Her face, round and soft, was like a Russian doll’s.

“I’m so happy you finally settled down!” she teased, giving him a hug.

He took care not to prolong the joke.

“Eliane, this is Captain Schafer, from the Paris Criminal Division.”

“Bonjour, ma jolie,” she said, embracing Alice. “A Frenchie, eh?”

They followed her into her office.

“We don’t have much time, Eliane. Can you do a DNA test based on this blood sample? Our labs are overwhelmed.”

Alice took the evidence bag with the scrap of blouse in it from her satchel and handed it to the scientist.

“I’ll give it to one of my biologists,” she promised, taking the bag. “What are you looking for, exactly?”

“A usable genetic profile. How quickly can you do it?”

“Is six hours okay?” she asked, adjusting her glasses.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I could reduce the DNA extraction and amplification time by using miniature probes, but it’s more expensive.”

“Just do it as fast as you can. As soon as you have the results, send them to Agent Thomas Krieg, along with your invoice. I’d like to call him so he knows to expect it. Can I use your phone?”

“Make yourself at home, Gabe. I’ll get right to work.”

And she walked out, leaving them alone in the office.

“What’s your cell phone number?” he asked. “If you don’t mind, I’ll give it to Thomas so he can get hold of us easily.”

Alice nodded and wrote her new number on a Post-It that was lying on the desk.

While Gabriel called his colleague, she went out into the hallway. She switched on her phone and called her father’s number, but it went straight to his terse voice-mail greeting: “Alain Schafer. Not here right now. Leave a message,” growled a grumpy voice.

“Papa, it’s Alice. Call me when you can. It’s urgent. Very urgent.”

She hung up. After a few seconds of reflection, she decided to call Seymour.

“It’s me again.”

“Thank God. I was getting worried. Have you spoken to Keyne?”

“Yes, he claims to be an FBI agent based in Boston.”

“Seriously? This guy is taking you for a ride, Alice!”

“You can try checking it, but I think he’s telling the truth this time. He’s investigating a murder similar to the Erik Vaughn killings.”

“I’ll call Sharman, that guy in Washington who we helped on the Petreus case.”

“Thanks, Seymour. Are you still at work? I’ve got another favor to ask.”

He couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Alice, favors for you is all I’ve done today!”

“I want you to take your car and—”

“Now? I can’t. My shift doesn’t end till eleven.”

She ignored his objections. “Take the highway to Metz, then continue on to Sarreguemines.”

“Alice, that’s over two hundred miles!”

She went on as if he hadn’t said anything. “There’s an old, abandoned sugar factory between Sarreguemines and Sarrebourg. I don’t know exactly where it is, but ask Castelli to find it for you—there can’t be that many sugar factories in the area.”

“I said no, Alice!”

“Take a flashlight with you, a large pair of pliers, and some glow sticks. Call me when you get there. I want you to check something.”

“Alice, we’re talking about an eight-hour round trip!”

“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important. Please, if you’re my friend, do this!” she begged. “Damn it, you’re the only person I can trust right now!”

Sensing her distress, Seymour yielded. “At least tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for.”