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Cora had to be satisfied with that, she guessed. They had a promise and a timeframe. In twenty minutes, back at the hotel again, they'd be looking at a list. And it would hopefully have the killer's name on it.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
This time, she’d scared Pierre enough that he kept his word. By the time Cora arrived back at the hotel, rushing in with Gabe behind her, the list was already in her inbox. She opened it and scanned through it eagerly.
There were a total of sixteen people who'd left within the past year up to the time the killings began. Eleven of them were men. Two, who they'd already been to see, had a star next to them, indicating that the parting had been acrimonious.
And there was one other name that had a star next to it, showing the same, with a brief note below it.
"Tolmay Gois," Cora said. "He was rejected and left a couple of months ago. I see here he had an injury, and he was asked to leave as he couldn't advance and wasn't able to work in the fields anymore."
"So he didn't choose to leave," Gabe said.
"Nope. He was kicked out. And he was mad about it. It says here he sent threatening letters to the foundation."
"Does it give the details? Gabe asked. "Does it mention anywhere what was in those letters?"
"No. The actual threats are not listed here. All it says is that threats were made. But clearly, he was really angry about it. Although, that was two and a half months ago?" She glanced questioningly at Gabe. "Too long? Do you think we should look for someone who left more recently?"
"Anger might take time to build," Gabe said. And then he shook his head, sighing. "Or else, that injury took time to heal. That's something we didn't think about."
"That could be it," Cora said. "He was injured, he got mad, he left. As soon as his injury was better, he decided to get payback, and that fits the timeframe."
"Now for the next question," Gabe said. "Is he local?"
"Let's see here," Cora opened the folder attached to his name, glad that they had address details to refer to. "Yes, he is local. He lives about an hour's drive from here, on the other side of Paris. I guess we take the ring road round the city and head north."
They rushed to the car, with Cora feeling more positive that this might bring them results. A man who'd been forced to leave because he was injured. They'd harbored bitterness in his heart and who'd then started a killing spree, making sure that if he couldn't achieve status at the foundation, then nor would others.
It all made sense, and she hoped that when they got face-to-face with Tolmay, they would get the answers they needed.
***
The drive to Tolmay Gois's house in a suburb of northern Paris took them over an hour, with traffic snarl-ups and a crash on the ring road. Cora tried to make up the time as soon as they were past the crash, flattening her foot, taking the exit and speeding down the main road, and then finally turning down a side street of double-story houses, packed together like dominos, with their front doors just a couple of yards from the road, and street trees in lieu of a garden.
Tolmay lived in number twelve. The place looked well maintained, Cora saw as she pulled up outside. The walls were freshly painted, the windows were clean, and the door was painted a shiny red.
They parked on the side of the road and walked a short distance to the front door.
Cora rang the bell, and they waited.
After a few moments, they heard a strange noise.
Thump-slide. Thump-slide.
She exchanged a dubious glance with Gabe as the door rattled and then opened.
To her surprise, she found herself face to face with a tall, tawny-haired man of about thirty-five, who was leaning on crutches. His right leg was in a brace, and he also wore a neck brace. He stared at them, equally surprised by their presence on his doorstep, his bright green eyes widening.
"What is this about?" he asked guardedly. He spoke in French.
"We're investigators," Cora introduced herself, also in French. "Are you Tolmay Gois?"
"I am." He switched to English, obviously picking up on Cora's accent and preferring to use her language. His English was better than her French, that was for sure. When had he gotten these injuries? Were they still from his accident at the foundation? Cora's mind was thronging with questions.
"We need to ask you a few questions about your time at the foundation," Cora said, cutting straight to the point. "May we come in?"
Tolmay hesitated for a moment before stepping aside and gesturing for them to enter. They walked into a small but tidy living room with a black couch, two armchairs, a coffee table, and a TV in the corner.
