Deadly Jewels Read Online Free PDF Page B

weren’t wearing them.
    â€œWell, this is all very interesting,” I said, keeping my voice as level and uninterested as I could. “Mademoiselle Mason, if you could return with me and Monsieur Rousseau to our office, we can talk more about how far your research has gone, and how specifically we can be of assistance to you.”
    Jean-Luc was nodding. If someone else wanted to do the work, that was just fine with him, as long as he got the credit. And any errant crown jewels that happened to be lying around as well, of course. “You will keep me informed, naturellement , Madame LeDuc?”
    I exchanged another glance with Richard. My initial thought had been right: this thing was going to get very out of control very quickly if we didn’t do something. Jean-Luc might be enjoying the attention he was getting now, but this was going to turn into an interagency pissing match that he didn’t have the ability or intelligence to foresee—and that he didn’t have a chance of winning, though he’d gladly bleed the residents of his city dry in the attempt.
    â€œThis meeting is perhaps premature,” I suggested. “ Messieurs , gentlemen, my office will be happy to work with Mademoiselle Mason and McGill University on this matter. If I understand the situation correctly, no current crime is under investigation, yes? And as this is Montréal, even if there is a cold case to be reviewed, that surely falls to our own police force?” I looked hard at Jean-Luc and, miracle of miracles, he picked up on what I was talking about. “But of course it is our own police force that will do any investigation!” His voice was explosive, outraged. “That is a given.”
    â€œShould it lead to issues of interest to the national or international community, then of course monsieur le maire will be quick to inform you,” I went on, and then turned to Patricia. “Mademoiselle Mason? Perhaps you would like to accompany us to our office now so that we can discuss specifics?”
    She was still looking a little dazed, which was surprising: institutions of higher learning practice cutthroat politics, and she should have been accustomed to territorial disputes. “Well, yes, of course,” she said uncertainly, looking back at Jean-Luc as though for direction.
    He nodded, his fingers tapping a quick tattoo of sound on the edge of the conference table. “Please go ahead, mademoiselle,” he said generously. “These gentlemen and I will continue our conversation.” He’d found my path of navigation through the quicksand and was ready to follow it enthusiastically. Jean-Luc might have started out liking the federal attention, but once he realized how much they outweighed him—and how little they were impressed with his office—his survival instincts came to the fore. I could usually count on that.
    Manipulation of my boss? Mais oui .
    Once in the corridor, though, I rethought my invitation to go chat chez moi . The reality is that my office is located in a public building, and either of the gentlemen we’d left—or a host of other people—were liable to walk in on us at any moment. Interrupt us. Overhear us.
    And this was something I’d rather keep control of, at least for as long as I could.
    There were plenty of places in City Hall that, one could argue, were private, but I’d had a thought. Getting Patricia out of the building altogether seemed like the best possible solution to keeping the lid on her information, and there were only two other places in the city that I was absolutely, positively guaranteed were private. One of them was my apartment, and both Ivan and I have always been clear that it constitutes neutral territory. It’s a place of refuge: he doesn’t bring his work there, and neither do I. That left only one option.
    â€œHave you ever,” I asked Patricia Mason, “been to the Montréal