AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She met them at the gate, got them signed in, and brought them to the entrance of the infamous prison. She stopped before they entered the first door.
“May I ask why you desire a meeting with Henri Couverel?”
Nicholas shook his head. “It’s a matter of national security. We must speak with him in private, with no one listening. If he knows he’s on camera or tape, he may not be frank with us, and we don’t have time to sort out lies.”
“Is it pertaining to the Koh-i-Noor diamond? I understand it was stolen from the Metropolitan Museum of Art Thursday evening. It’s all over the news.” She turned to Mike. “Forgive my curiosity. Your boss, Milo Zachery, arranged this meeting. He told me a bit about what was happening.”
Mike said, “I’m sure he did, Madame Badour, but we are not at liberty to discuss the matter. May we see Monsieur Couverel now?”
Badour gave them a beautiful Gallic shrug. “You can see him, but whether he will speak to you is another matter. He is not a cooperative inmate.”
Mike had been in her share of prisons. La Santé had a reputation as one of the worst in the world. The suicide rates were enormous, inmates battled infestations, overcrowding, lice and rats, and one another. She had to admit, the long, gray corridors weren’t cheerful. They would go for twenty to thirty feet and meet another gate, which was opened only after the gate behind them was shut, locked, and cleared. It took a solid twenty minutes to weave their way inside the dank concrete walls.
Nicholas said, “Madame Badour, has Couverel made any requests which you’ve denied?”
“Hundreds. He knows most of the drug pushers in Paris. Many officials want information from him, but it always comes at a price. Cigarettes, privileges, television. His most fervent demand, however, is beyond my control.”
“What does he want?”
“A transfer to Clairvaux Prison. Out of Paris, out of this—” She broke off, swinging her hand around, and finished with a short “muck.”
“And if I could make this happen? Would he be more cooperative?”
She studied him for a moment. “You must have sway with the French authorities.”
Nicholas said, “Enough.”
Mike remembered his Foreign Office ties, and realized that yes, he did have the pull for such a move.
Madame Badour realized he was serious as well. “Then I will not stop you from making the offer as leverage. We will wait here for Couverel. It won’t be long. He isn’t dangerous; we keep him in the mixed cells. Four men to a cell, they are confined twenty hours out of the day. He’s been in isolation a few times, but he’s been well behaved for the past two years, so he’s been given work privileges. He folds pamphlets for a company we do business with. Oh, here is Couverel now.”
Even as bad as the prison was, Mike was still shocked at the man’s appearance. His dark hair was lank and greasy, and heavily streaked with white. His clothes were torn and dirty. He hadn’t seen a razor in at least a week, nor water for bathing, it seemed. French prisoners didn’t wear uniforms as they did in American prisons. They depended on the kindness of family and friends to provide fresh clothes. Couverel was obviously on his own.
She didn’t think Couverel looked well enough to stand the interview, much less many more years.
He sat down hard at the chipped Formica table and stared at them. Mike and Nicholas sat themselves opposite him.
Nicholas turned to Madame Badour. “You’ll excuse us?” It wasn’t a request.
She pursed her lips and walked out. The steel door shut behind her with a loud clang, and they were alone with the prisoner.
Nicholas asked, “Parlez-vous anglais?”
Couverel shrugged. “Non.”
In fluid French, Nicholas continued to speak, and Mike struggled to keep up with his fast, idiomatic speech. Couverel was paying attention, and when Nicholas switched to English mid-sentence, he followed along.
Liar. He did speak English.
“The lady does not have enough French to follow. We will continue in English.”
He shrugged again, a spark of humor in his eyes. “Oui, cochon.”
Nicholas ignored the insult. “You look a bit like your sister.”
Couverel’s eyes narrowed. “I have no sister.”
“Of course you do. We have DNA matching her to you. Where is she?”
