He was conscious of a lack of resolve earlier, when he’d spoken to Nicole on the old barge. He should have pressed her then for more details. So why hadn’t he? He had no clear answer.

He was wondering what to do next when Claude’s friend, Jean-Michel, appeared in the doorway, accompanied by an officer from the front desk. He looked flustered.

‘Lucas, I’m sorry. She has gone.’

‘Gone?’

‘The young woman, Nicole. The rudder got tangled in some fishing line and I had to clear it. When I got back on the boat, she and the boy had gone. We were close to the road … I’m sorry.’ He almost squirmed with the embarrassment of having allowed her to leave.

Rocco stood up. He thought he knew where she might be. He told Jean-Michel not to worry, that he would deal with it. He asked Alix to follow him out to his car. This was a visit where he might need her presence to allay the fears of any women he met.

He drove quickly to the address Nicole had given him, filling in Alix with any missing details about Nicole’s story on the way. She listened in silence until he had finished.

‘You think she could still be in danger?’

‘No. Not really.’

‘Then why are we here?’

He had to admit that he wasn’t quite sure. Closing doors, perhaps; wrapping up loose ends. He pulled up outside a row of three-storey houses broken up into apartments and they both got out.

It was beginning to get dark. A few children were in the street, oblivious to the cold and stretching out their last moments of play before bedtime. Several women watched from front doors, but there was no sign of men in cars, or anyone who looked out of place.

He knocked on the door of the house where Nicole had been staying. It opened to reveal a tall, elegant woman with smooth, black skin and a pretty face. She frowned when she saw Rocco, and looked surprised to see Alix’s uniform.

Rocco held up his badge. ‘Amina? My name’s Lucas Rocco. Is Nicole in?’

She shook her head. ‘No, sir. She came a short while ago, but she has gone now.’ Her voice was soft, the words carefully enunciated. The word ‘now’ sounded very final.

‘Can you tell me where she went?’

Another shake of her head.

Alix stepped forward and smiled. ‘Can we see her room? It’s very important.’

Amina moved aside, then led them down a passageway to the rear of the building. She opened a door. It revealed a single room with a small cooker, a table and a bed. There were no personal items, no clothing, only the hasty disarray of someone having once been here but now gone.

‘She said nothing to me for my own safety,’ Amina explained. ‘Only that she had to move on for Massi’s sake. I told her that it was all over the community that a man from her home city of Oran had been killed by police, and she said it did not concern her. But I know it did. She was relieved, I think. He was not a nice man.’

‘You knew her real name?’ said Rocco.

‘Yes. Massi told me one day. I said I would keep it as our secret, that I would not tell anyone else.’ She smiled at the memory, but her face was tinged with sadness.

‘We didn’t kill him,’ said Alix. ‘The police, I mean. You must have some idea where she might have gone.’

‘Back home, I think.’ Amina shrugged, adding, ‘She did not come here for the same reasons others do. Here was not where she felt good. It was an escape … a refuge.’

A logical assumption, thought Rocco. Back home she would be safe. No Farek, no threat, no fear. She could take up her life again. He moved around the room, checking the single wardrobe, a small cupboard and underneath the mattress on the bed. Nothing. She had left no more sign of her presence here than a sparrow.

‘She asked me to keep something,’ Amina said, watching him search. ‘I will get it.’ She disappeared along the passageway, returning moments later with something wrapped in cloth and tied with string.

Rocco took it, and knew instinctively what it was by the feel and weight. He untied the string and unwound the cloth. The object inside was black and metal, with a ribbed rubber handle and a needle-sharp point. A faint crust of brown had dried at the top of the blade beneath the guard.

‘She gave you this?’

Amina nodded, her eyes wide. ‘She said that she did not want it near Massi. That I should keep it until she asked for it.’ She gave an elegant lift of her shoulders. ‘She never did.’

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

‘Mr Dziri, I have another question for you.’ Rocco had driven straight back to the station. He didn’t bother trying to intimidate the man; he’d got beyond that and wanted confirmation of what he already suspected.

Dziri nodded, but said nothing.

‘When you made your journey to France, were you carrying a knife?’

Dziri looked up, startled. ‘No. No, I swear.’

‘Just Slimane, then?’

A frown this time. ‘Slimane? No. We were all searched before leaving Oran, and again before getting in the truck. They said anyone carrying weapons or drugs would be sent back.’ He slapped both hands together in a brushing motion. ‘Like that.’

‘What about the woman?’ asked Alix. ‘Did anyone search her?’ Dziri gave it some thought, then shook his head and sighed, the truth dawning. ‘No,’ he replied softly. ‘They did not.’ He shrugged. ‘She was a woman … it would not have been right.’

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Alix was quiet on the way back upstairs, but glanced at Rocco as if expecting a comment. He had nothing to say. He was wondering how far Nicole and her son would travel; whether it would be somewhere new to begin again, or whether, as Amina had suggested, she would return to Oran. He thought maybe the latter.

‘She stabbed him.’ Alix spoke softly. ‘She stabbed Slimane!’ She sounded very sure of herself.

‘It looks that way,’ he agreed neutrally, unable to deny it. ‘But where did the knife come from?’

‘But Slimane was attacking her. You heard what happened. The man confirmed it. Slimane would have raped her, probably killed her to keep her quiet. It’s—’ She stopped as an officer appeared at the end of the corridor. He didn’t appear to notice them.

Rocco stopped walking, too. ‘I know. I know all that. But it wasn’t Slimane’s knife.’ Nicole had lied, about the nature of the threat, the sequence of events – maybe all of it. Some might consider it a minor point, but he wondered what else she had lied about. To him. To everyone.

He should have asked her more questions. But would it have made any difference?

‘What are you going to do?’

He didn’t know. That was the problem. What could he do? ‘Make a report. File it.’

‘Will anyone read it?’

‘I’ve no idea. You know what paperwork is like; it gets lost in the system or overlooked.’ He rubbed his eyes, too tired to think. ‘In the meantime, I’m going home. I’m tired.’

‘Will you issue a warrant for her arrest?’

‘Probably not. There’s no proof. Nobody saw anything, not even our only witness.’ Rocco still wasn’t sure how far he could trust Alix’s discretion. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about his illicit visit to the Ecoboras place, and he hoped she would be as discreet about this as well. ‘You can report it if you wish.’

She didn’t reply, and they turned to go upstairs. Then she said. ‘Why would I do that? You’ve done your duty, and that’s good enough for me.’ She was silent after that, until they entered the main office. There was nobody about. ‘Where is that? Home, I mean.’

He told her and her face lit up. ‘Really? Poissons? I was going there tomorrow. May I come with you? There’s someone I have to visit.’

He shrugged. ‘Of course.’ Everyone and their dog seemed to know Poissons, he thought. Algerian gangsters and their thugs, new police recruits. ‘Anyone I know?’